The Hand of Mercy (A Porter Brown Journey) (16 page)

BOOK: The Hand of Mercy (A Porter Brown Journey)
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Chapter
17

Pursuit

 

April 2012

“Bueno,” answered Mario. 


Hola, Mario.  How are you?” 

“I’m well
, Porter. And you?” 

“A little busy right now
," he said without pausing.  “Hey, I’ve been trying to get a hold of Paloma but I haven’t been able to.  Have you heard from her lately?” 

“Actually
, no.  The last time I spoke with her was about a week ago.”  Sensing Porter’s concern, Mario asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“The Zeta mine in West Virginia is up in flames
,” he answered. 

“Th
ere is nothing wrong with that,” said a gleeful Mario. 


You’re right, except that I spoke with Holland as the flames were engulfing the mine, thinking I could pour salt into his wounds.” 

Mario interrupted, “In
stead, he opened up your flesh and set you on fire.  Correct?”

“Right
,” answered Porter confused, “how did you know?” 

“Mr. Holl
and is a brilliant man.  I’ve had him investigated and under surveillance ever since you told me about his involvement with the Zetas.  They have chosen a very good partner, or more likely, he chose them.  Regardless, while the Zetas have achieved criminal success through force and brutality, Holland uses his intellect, probably bordering on insanity that I have not personally encountered.  Why is this?” asked Mario.

“Because you couldn’t link him to any crime
,” said Porter, already knowing the answer. 

“Correct
again,” answered Mario.  “There is nothing on him.  And for a poor boy from the hills to have climbed the political ladder so quickly, there must be a trail of corruption.  And yet there is nothing.  It’s as if he wipes down everything with bleach.  My assumption is that he holds those engaged in his corruption under such threat of terror that they dare not provide any details.”

“I’m sure you’re right
,” said Porter.  “But I can’t worry about going after him for what he has done.  I have to prevent him from what he will do; specifically to Paloma or Jennifer.” 

“Why
them?"

“Because
he painted a complete picture of my involvement in the elimination of all my victims...” Porter corrected himself, “no, not victims.  Those monsters were guilty, and I just sped up the justice they were due.  But Holland knows what kind of guys I go after.  He says he has linked me to just about every incident all the way back to 1994 when I got to Chicago.”  Porter paused, searching his mind to see if he believed what he was going to say next.  “Fortunately he hasn't figured out that Jenny is my sister.  He suspects that I am from West Virginia and that he abused someone close to me, but he hasn’t found the link to tie me there.”

"Yet
," added Mario.

"Right. 
Not yet, but he certainly knows about Paloma and I fear she is who he will target.  He promised to make my mental anguish be the death of me.  The only way he does that is if Jen or Paloma are victimized.  I already have Jen safe and on her way to my bunker in West Virginia, but Paloma,” Porter’s voice trailed off as he considered the horrific possibilities. 


I will talk to her within the hour,” said Mario. “Or I will use every resource I have to locate her.  You have already rescued one of my daughters.  We'll protect Paloma together.”

*****

True to his word, Don Mario called Porter 59 minutes after they hung up.  “I have not been able to reach Paloma, but don’t be alarmed.  You know she leaves her phone when she is exercising or having coffee with friends.  But just to be careful, I have a team in Chicago en route to her apartment and another to yours.” 

“Thank you
, Mario,” said Porter.  “But I am at my apartment, and she is not here.” 

“I am not sending them just to protect her
,” said Mario, his implication understood by Porter.  “As soon as they arrive...” 

Porter interrupted,
“Hold on, Mario, she’s calling in right now.”

Porter frantically answered the other line.  “Paloma?” 

“Yes, my love,” she answered with no hint of concern.  “What is so urgent that both you and my dad have been blowing up my phone?  Can’t a girl go for a run in peace anymore?” she asked jokingly. 

“Oh, thank God
!” said Porter earnestly.  “Listen, we’ve got to get you safe.  Holland is on the war path for you.  So I need you to go to your apartment right now.  Your dad has a team of his men on their way for your protection.” 


I’m in my apartment,” Paloma said, fighting the panic welling up inside of her, “But none of Dad’s guys are here.  When did he send them?” 

“Within the last hour
,” Porter responded.  “When you came in, did you enter the building from the front?” 

“No, I came in the side.

“Then go to your balcony
and look out to see if his men are out front,” he ordered. “But stay low.  If the others are there, I don’t want them to know you’re in the apartment.” 

“Ok
,” said Paloma as she hurried to the balcony's sliding door.  “The door is still locked.  Gracias a Dios,” she as she crouched down and shuffled to the edge to see below.  “Nobody,” she whispered into the phone. 


All right,” started Porter, “Leave the apartment now.  Go through the back and go to the coffee shop on 13
th
and South Prairie.  I’ll call your dad and have him reroute his men there.” 

“Got it
.  I love you,” she said, her words carrying her uncertainty.

“You are my world
, Paloma.  I will not let anything happen to you.  Now go!” he commanded.

Switching back to the other line, Porter reassured Mario that his daughter was fine and instructed him to send his men to the coffee shop. 

“Why?  Are they not at her home?” asked Mario. 

“No
,” answered Porter.

“Hijo de Puta
!” shouted Mario.  “Then they have been compromised.  They called me fifteen minutes ago from her lobby.” 

“It’s fine
.  She came in through the side door and now is going out the back.  Just call your men and send them to the coffee shop.  I’ll wait for your call when you've confirmed that they are okay.”  Mario offered no goodbye but immediately called his men.

Porter ran
from his penthouse to the elevator.  The 57 story descent felt inordinately long to Porter’s heightened awareness.  Adding to his worry, there was no cell signal while in the elevator.  This cocoon of silence and bad lighting allowed his mind to form the images and feelings of indescribable joy he had when with Paloma.  Her soft touch on his face and chest.  The way her head tilted down, ever so slightly, when she smiled at him.  The light behind her eyes every time he gazed into them. 
I will protect you
, he thought.

The bell announcing the elevator had reached the bottom floor broke Porter from his trance.  He looked to his phone
for a signal but none showed.  As the doors opened, he glanced quickly to both sides for signs of Holland’s men waiting on him, or better yet those of Mario's.  Seeing neither, he sprinted out the exit and onto Michigan Avenue while dialing Mario.  Mario answered on the first ring.  “Were your men there?” asked Porter frantically. 


Calm yourself my son,” answered Mario.  “It was as you thought.  They missed her because she went through the side.  They just intercepted her as she was running to the coffee shop.  She is safe.”  Emotion overwhelmed Porter to the point that he could neither speak nor stand. 

“Port
er?” asked a concerned Mario.  “Hello? Are you there?” 


Yes.  I’m just sitting on the sidewalk breathing a sigh of relief,” answered Porter.  “Where are they going to take her now?” 

“They are driving her to Indianapolis where she will board
,” but Mario did not finish his sentence.  “Porter, in the event that either of our phones is being monitored, I will withhold the destination.” 

Porter interjected, “
Mario, passenger records are much easier to monitor than tapping our phones.  Are you sure you want to put her on a plane?” 

“I did not say she would be on a plane
,” answered Mario.  “And even if she were, disguising one’s identity is not that difficult.  As I am certain you are aware.” 

Porter
smiled.  “Of course.  Thanks Mario.  Keep her safe.”

*****

Jennifer picked up Porter's call after only one ring and asked without hesitation, "Did you kill Mitch Frazier?"

"What?"
Porter asked in response.

"Glenn!" she pleaded.  "
I've just had three hours to think about what you've told me and the only murder that has happened in our county in forever just so happened to be when you were there.  So, did you kill Mitch?"

Porter
said nothing.

"
Ok, now I'm freaking out," she said.  "The idea that you killed others was more like it was out of a movie when you said it.  Now that I know a guy, and his poor wife..." her words trailed off as she considered Laura.  "Did you even think about Laura?" she said in disgust.

"Every day for the two weeks I
was in town before Thanksgiving," Porter responded coldly.  "There are no words to diffuse the anger you're feeling.  I know it well.  I'll only say that every single action I have taken was justified.  If a female was being abused and no one knew it, I was the one who freed her from her prison."

"Mitch was beating Laura?" Jennifer asked with surprise.

"Every single person I have helped was being abused."

The siblings again went silent.

More concerned with his sister's safety than her opinion of him, Porter broke the silence.  “So, to my point, Holland is gunning for me and now Paloma and you are both on your way to safety, but you have to follow my instructions to the letter.  Can you do that?”


Fine.  I'll do what you say," answered Jennifer.  "But tell me about Paloma.” 


Ok, but this information won't comfort you about who your brother has become.  You sure you still want me to bare my soul?"

"Without a doubt."

"All right then, but hang on.  Paloma is from Mexico and her family is obscenely wealthy, and very influential.  And it’s very difficult to become influential in Mexico legally.”

“So you’re saying her family is made up of criminals?” asked Jennifer.

“Criminal is not a big enough word for who they are.  If we were living in medieval times, they would be one of the Royal families of Europe; good hearted and decent towards their own, mixed with a ruthlessness devoid of any humanity.  They don't question using whatever measures they have to in order to maintain and expand their power.  I don’t know how much you know about the Mexican legal environment, but life down there is made up of acceptable and unacceptable crimes.  Paloma’s family occupies both spaces.  But because they are so powerful, their unacceptable crimes are overlooked.  That and they pay off just about every federal and local official in Mexico, as well as thousands of peasants.” 

Jennifer stayed silent for a moment before she responded.  “So my little brother is an unpaid, unsolicited hit man who’s dating a member of a Mexican criminal enterprise, and is being pursued by the Attorney General of West Virginia.  Did I get that right?” 

“That’s about it,” Porter laughed. 

“So how does all of this en
d?  Do you or Holland have to be in a body bag for it to be over?” she asked half-jokingly.

“Yes,” Porter answered without emotion.  “Right now
I don't know which is more likely, but your safety is the most important thing.  To insure that, Holland has to die.  As for my safety, I'm not afraid of death.  It's not like I can avoid it."

"And you're not concerned your actions will, well you know,
send you to Hell?" she asked pensively.

"
Oh that.  Well, I know there's a Savior who died for you.  I’m just not sure he did the same for me.  Since there’s nothing I can do about that, I don’t worry about it.  Either I'm granted a longer life to alleviate others’ pain, or I take a bullet trying to alleviate yours...and I would gladly accept the latter.” 

“That's a pretty callous attitude about eternity,” added Jennifer. 

“It is," he said.  "But if God knows everything, then he knows who he will save.  If that’s the case, then I never had a say in it.  It was his call all along.  The choices I'm making in life are to help others, and he knew that to.  So I’m just living out the life he knew I would.  And I’m not trying to earn his favor, because I can't.  If he is the Creator of the universe, then my attempt to gain his approval is like a grain of sand trying to show how important it is to the rest of the ocean.  It probably is valuable, but hardly.  And there are times when I fume over not being one of God's chosen but," he paused for effect, "despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage."

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