BASED ON TRUE EVENTS
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.”
It seemed obvious enough but she figured she’d say it and put everything out in the open. Rayne looked more tired than surprised. He just stood there, seemingly to test her, so Claudia took a step forward and lowered the gun a bit. She kept a square look on Rayne as she addressed the entire room:
“My name is Detective Claudia Dela Cruz of the SFPD vice squad. I’m taking this man into custody.”
“Ain't no business of ours lady,” said the old red looking white man in the corner.
“That’s right sir, none of your business. So everyone, please, remain seated where you are.”
Rayne continued to watch her calmly. He didn’t appear to be worried but she could see a flash of confusion as he eyes moved along her, taking in this woman in the dress and loose fitting rain coat.
“Mr. Rayne, I’m a police officer. I know who you are, I know who you're with, and I’m going to assume you're armed. Why don’t you drop that bag and then place whatever weapons you have on to the floor next to it.”
He didn't hesitate as much as move very slowly. Claudia started thinking about a place she could shoot him. She had her eye on his knee cap when he finally pulled a revolver from his waistband and then leaned down, slowly, placing the gun on the floor. It wasn’t until he was standing straight again with his hands raised that Claudia could see a slight tightening in his face.
“We met at the party," she said.
He didn’t reply, just stared with his hands up. She waved the gun and Rayne walked around her, towards the door.
“Stop,” Claudia warned, and he did. She put the cuffs on him and then reached down and put his gun in the pocket of O’Neil’s rain coat before reaching down for the bag. When she got a grip on the handle and pulled it barely budged. She took a glance around the room, at the red faced man and the Asians with the dice on the bar. They all stared passively, only partly interested.
Claudia steadied the pistol on Rayne, wrapping her hand tighter around the bag’s handle, and heaved. She immediately felt the muscles in her back tighten up and strain. She tried not to grunt as she put her remaining effort into getting the bag off the floor and towards the door.
It was raining again when they got outside. O’Neil had pulled the car around and parked it at the curb. He was standing in front of it, struggling to light a cigarette before throwing it in disgust when Claudia and Rayne approached. He opened the back door of the Pontiac and gestured for Rayne to get in. Neither of the two men said anything, Rayne just lowered his head and got into the back seat.
Claudia motioned towards the trunk with the bag and O’Neil stepped over to unlock it.
“What’s in it?” he asked.
Claudia unzipped the top and glanced inside at the rolls of cash. She had never known money could weigh that much.
“Well that’s intresting,” she said. “Let’s get him back to the office and we can go through it all there.”
They got into the car and pulled away from Gold Duck, heading down Columbus. O’Neil switched on the wipers and the wet squeak filled the car. Claudia knew she should have felt a chill sitting in the seat soaked but the adrenalin had her whole body lit up. She watched the wipers clear the view of the street in front of them for a moment, then she turned in her seat and took a good look at the prisoner in the back. He was staring straight passed her, slightly bent from having his hands cuffed behind his back.
“What happened at the bar earlier? At the party?” she said.
Rayne said nothing, just stared over her shoulder
“Why did they break up the party and drag you out of there? Did you do something?”
Still nothing.
"Were you transporting that money from Gold Duck? Or were you stealing it? Depending what went down, we can probably help you. When we get to my office we can take a statement, figure out a way forward. What were you doing at Gold Duck?"
He stared off through the windshield, unconcerned. Claudia knew this one would take a little longer to break down than Rollins, it was good to get a head start.
“Once we have you processed we’re going back to that place and searching it top to bottom. What’s in that bag will get me a warrant. It’s time to decide if you're going down with the ship or if you’re going to let us throw you a life preserver.”
He seemed to break from his trance, his eyes shifting towards her.
"Where are we going?" he said.
"I told you, my office."
Rayne turned his gaze towards the driver. "Where we going Bobby?"
"Keep your mouth shut shit bird," the fat man bellowed. "You keep it shut or I'll come back there and teach you about respect!"
O'Neil was spitting up at the rear view, looking at Rayne like he was crazed.
"You know Detective O'Neil?" Claudia asked.
O'Neil turned in his seat, shifting his gaze from Claudia to the street in front of them, back and forth.
"He remembers me from our investigation. I told you, we were all over these guys. He's a fuck’n shit bird!"
"Where are we going Bobby?" Rayne said again. "I know it's not the cop shop."
"I told you -shut your fucking mouth!"
Claudia watched O'Neil's face go dark red with rage, she watched the spittal shoot from his lips. A terrible feeling spread up her gut and she could finally feel the cold.
"I’m going to call my partner now," she said.
O’Neil turned towards her, shaking his head in frustration.
"Hon, the batteries dead. Relax now. Let's head over and meet the van, they should be scoping out that paint store by-”
"Detective O'Neil, pull the car over."
He blinked stupidly, trying to gain his composure.
"Take it easy, the guy’s a shit bird,” O’Neil forced a grin as he spoke. “We can keep him cuffed and put him on ice. We'll meet up with our people in the van and square this all-"
"I said pull over!"
The only sound in the car was the squeak of the the wipers. Claudia was still turned awkwardly in her seat, watching the fat man steer the car, watching his face change from crimson anger to scorn. She could see his mind change, she could see him sigh with acceptance. She saw the decision being made as O'Neil reached with his right hand into his suit coat for the .45 cradled in it's leather holster.
"Don't-" Claudia heard herself say.
She pushed out from the seat belt and grasped the man's thick arm and O'Neil snatched her by the wrist with his other hand, trying to force her back. For a moment, no one steered the Pontiac. A car honked outside and brakes screeched. Claudia steadied herself by grasping the steering wheel, yanking it towards her, the car cutting sharply. O'Neil was in her face, pushing her away.
Before Claudia has a moment to even wonder about the all the glass showering down outside the windows, her head was slammed against the dashboard, knocking her cold.
****
Oscar had been surprised that the lady cop had even attempted to take O’Neil on, the man was three times her size. One of her elbows had caught Oscar in the eye when she leapt over to the driver side and began to struggle with the fat man. He had been worried the gun would go off and shoot him through the back seat, then he caught a glimpse of the storefront coming towards them at sixty miles an hour.
He dropped down flat on the seat as they drove through the glass windows and door of the bagel shop and he shut his eyes as they crashed through the chairs and tables, turning everything in their path to shards of wood and plastic.
The thick oak counter finally stopped the car's forward motion. Oscar's face was shoved into the back of the driver seat, he could taste blood in his mouth. His shoulder felt bruised and jammed in it's socket but he was alive and not much more worse off than he was before they crashed.
He dragged himself back onto the seat and stared up at the ceiling. There was the blaring of the bagel shop's burglar alarm and a wet snorting sound coming from the front seat that must have been O'Neil.
He figured it would be best to get out while he could and began to kick at the passenger side window of the back door. It took about ten kicks, a good deal of effort, and then it shattered. He dragged his foot along the bottom of the window to clear the jagged glass, then pushed his feet through while awkwardly pulling himself along the seat with his cuffed hands. I took all the strength he had to lift himself up and sea saw through the window.
He had a few small pieces of glass in his knuckles and fingers but he was standing upright and free of the car. He looked over at the carnage the Pontiac had brought to the little bagel shop on Howard Street. Pieces of wood that used to be furniture and glass that used to be windows and doors were all strewn about in a shining horrible mess. He looked through the gaping hole in the front of the shop and saw people crossing from the other side of the street. Soon there would be a crowd and then more cops, there wasn’t much time.
He walked around to the driver side of the car, kicking a piece of shattered counter out of the way so he could turn around and pull open the car door with his bound hands. He turned back and found O'Neil blinking up at him, the fat man's face smeared with blood from a shattered nose.
"Help me," the fat man said.
"Give me the keys."
O'Neil wiped at the blood and blinked, dazed.
"My foot's stuck, you gotta help me," he said weakly.
Oscar saw the cop's .45 was still stuck securely in the shoulder holster.
"Give me the keys and I'll get you out of there. There's people coming right now."
O'Neil nodded dumbly, wiping fruitlessly at the blood pouring from his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. He struggled to dig into his pants pocket with his other hand, grimacing in pain. Oscar peered down and saw that the front of the vehicle had compacted inward and O'Neil's leg was caught behind a broken mass of plastic and metal.
O'Neil dragged a key ring out, a high whimper escaping from his thick bloody lips. Oscar turned backwards again and leaned down so the cop could unlock the handcuffs. The fat man snorted and wheezed as he desperately fumbled with the cuffs until they fell from Oscar's wrists.
Oscar stretched his arms and rubbed the feeling into his hands, glancing back to the front of the store where a people had now gathered as they attempted to get a look into the carnage. He spotted two of them on their cell phones.
"It's alright," Oscar called out to them. "Everybody's alright."
He bent down to one knee and looked passed O'Neil to the passenger side where the lady cop sat slumped over with her head lying against the cracked passenger side window. She appeared to be unconscious and though it was dim inside the car Oscar couldn't detect any serious injuries to her face or head. It was possible she was alive, Oscar didn't have time to find out for sure.
"Get me out of this kid, I got to get the bitch out of here," O'Neil muttered.
Oscar turned his head at an angle, looking at the fat cop's leg, then reached in as if to get a grip on it before smoothly grasping the .45 and yanking it free of the shoulder holster.
"Oh c'mon kid, you don't got to do that,” O’Neil pleaded. “Just get me out of here so I can clean this up. Don't fucking leave me like this."
Oscar ignored him and pulled the lever at O’Neil’s feet that popped the trunk. He walked around and reached deep in to retrieve the bag before making his way back to the driver side.
"I need you to tell Leo that I'm leaving," he said. "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did but that's it pretty much."
O'Neil had stopped wiping at his nose, letting it bleed all over his tie and the front of his suit. He turned away from Oscar and sat back in the wrecked Pontiac, resigning himself to wait for what was coming.
Oscar shoved the gun into his waistband and gingerly stepped through the wreckage to the sidewalk outside of the bagel shop. A middle aged couple was taking it all in wide eyed while a group of young people dressed in their club clothes were taking pictures and shooting video with their phones. Oscar gripped the bag with both hands and pulled it up to cover his face.
"Everybody's alright," he said. "There's an ambulance on its way."
"Jesus, did you see what happened?"
"Yeah. An accident."
He walked passed them and into the street, making his way towards Market. He noticed the handle of the bag was wet and figured the knife wound on his forearm was probably bleeding again.
