Chapter 9
Marfisi pointed his gun alternately between Mike and Steve. He was just as shocked to see his former hostage as Keller was to see them. Bain, still reeling from Steve outsmarting him while he was supposed to be guarding him, angrily dragged the younger man by the elbow from the booth. With a casted wrist on his free arm, Steve could do little to resist.
Mike sized up the assailants, wondering how they ended up in the same diner so many miles from where Steve was found. At the moment, it didn't matter. All he knew was that he needed to save his partner from being taken again. Mike inconspicuously felt the gun occupying his holster. He looked to the back to the kitchen, hoping that their waitress would stay safe out of the main dining area.
"Nice try escaping, kid. The boss isn't going to be so happy to see what you did to the rental car. Knowing Smith, I guess we shouldn't be surprised," Marfisi glowered as Bain jabbed a gun into Steve's temple. "You're coming with us."
"But it's all over," Steve declared calmly. "The money drop already happened."
"How do you know?" Marfisi asked suspiciously.
"My old man called the police station here in Mono Lake afterward."
"How'd he know where you were?"
"I was allowed one call after I got busted and called a friend," Steve said as he shot a quick glance to Mike.
Marfisi raised his eyebrow to which Steve responded. "Yeah, I got arrested. Seems as though driving a car without a taillight and a rear window is frowned upon in this area."
"You expect me to believe you?"
"Well, without a taillight, how can someone tell when I'm trying to slow down?" he deadpanned.
"That's not what I meant, smart ass." Marfisi rammed his fist into Steve's gut. Bain maintained hold of the pistol.
Mike eyes grew wide in surprise at Steve's impertinence. His partner hadn't been acting right since he was released from police custody, and Mike knew this attitude may prove harmful if he wasn't careful.
"You know, if I were you two," Steve continued as he straightened himself up, "I wouldn't waste your time with me. The cops here have your full description. I'd get the hell out of Dodge and go somewhere else."
"Well, you're not us. We're heading back to Vegas, and you are coming along. Our instructions were to hang on to you until directed otherwise. I don't feel like we can say we've accomplished our objective."
Marfisi turned to Mike, "Hey old man, is that your Ford tank out there? You wouldn't mind if we borrowed it, now would you?" He pushed the gun closer to Mike's face. The senior detective slowly shook his head. "I didn't think you would."
Mike looked at Steve, and then placed a hand on his left side where his gun was. Without any doubt in his mind, he silently conveyed the message that he would not allow his partner to be abducted a second time. Steve gave a slight nod.
"The keys!" Marfisi demanded.
"They're in my pocket," Mike said as he rose from the booth. He twisted his side around only enough to block the view of his pistol from the two assailants. "Here they are," Mike said as he instead grabbed his gun and drew.
At that instance, Steve lifted up his casted wrist and deflected Bain's gun away from his head. The plaster cast proved painful to Bain's hand and the gun fell and slid partway across the room under another dining table.
Now a party to an apparent stand-off between Marfisi and himself, Mike stood stock still while Marfisi did the same. In the meantime, both Steve and Bain scrambled for Bain's free gun. Steve nearly reached it first, but Bain tackled him and delivered a blow to the young man's left jaw, reawakening the injury he had received from the initial abduction.
Instead of admitting defeat, Steve became angry, put his opponent in a scissor hold and opted for a left hook to right side of Bain's face. The punch made his cast reverberate, but adrenalin saved him from feeling the damage he had just done. Steve untangled his legs, kicked Bain away, turned and once again made a grab for the gun.
Bain watched for only a split second and then grabbed a dinner knife from a nearby table.
"Steve! Watch out!" Mike yelled. He kept his composure while maintaining a fix on Marfisi. The last thing he needed was Marfisi to gain the upper hand.
Steve turned around and for the third time in a few seconds, hit Bain with his casted wrist. This punch landed in Bain's mouth, knocking several teeth loose and bloodying his lip. He fell and Steve took the opportunity to kick the man in the side. Steve made a final and successful play for the gun.
Marfisi, out of reflex, swung his gun toward Steve. By Marfisi breaking from Mike's stare, the older detective knew he had an opportunity. He struck Marfisi's arm with his own weapon, knocking the gun from his hand.
"All right, enough!" Mike bellowed, reaffirming his authority. "You, in the kitchen, call the police."
"Already did," came the female voice. And as the waitress declared her actions, Deputy Perkins and another officer entered the diner.
"Police, freeze!"
Two hours later…
"You look exhausted," Deputy Perkins declared as he handed Steve a cup of coffee. "And you look like you took quite a beating. Are you sure we shouldn't be taking you back to the hospital?"
Since the arrest of Marfisi and Bain, both Stone and Keller made their statements. Mike wanted to be thorough enough not to cause either man a need to return to Mono Lake anytime soon. He also hoped that their statements would mean that both kidnappers would be put away for several years to come.
"I'll live," Steve responded quietly as he shuffled paperwork he had finished several minutes earlier. "Are we about done? I'd like to get back to San Francisco if we could."
"The Sheriff is in with your partner and they are swapping war stories right now. I'll see if I can drop a subtle hint."
"Sometimes subtle hints don't work with Mike. Do you have a bullhorn handy?" Steve joked without smiling. He was indeed exhausted and even more so, he was bothered.
Steve watched the Deputy go into the Sheriff's office. He leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath and reflected on the earlier conversation he'd had with his father while he was waiting on Mike get down to Mono Lake…
The officer had told Steve that he had a call and led him to a desk which was just outside the holding cell area.
"You know, kiddo, it's going to be all right," Clark had declared. "I made the drop with money. The cops had my back and we caught Petit John, the bastard. He's going to sing like a canary and Mr. Bennett of Little Monaco is going down."
"It's all over then?"
"It sure is. And Old Man Olsen…"
"That's Captain Olsen," Steve corrected.
"Yeah, Old Man Olsen and the big cop Norm led the charge. Good guys you know there, kiddo."
"They are good men. Glad you can recognize that," Steve replied coolly.
"Anyway, I'm going to be taking off soon. That Lieutenant you work for is on his way down to bail your ass out of jail. What did you do to get tossed in the slammer anyway?"
"Only escaping from the hostage situation I endured, thanks to you. Anyway, it's just a misunderstanding. They need Mike to affirm my statement and once they do, I'll be out."
"I'm sure you will," Clark commented as he sought to change the subject. "Say Steve, I want you to think about something. I'm going to blow this pop stand and I want you to join me."
Steve was confused by his father's statement. "What? Where are you going?"
"Well, I've been in Mexico for a bit and I like it there. There's something about the culture. They're good to the old man here. I'm thinking if it's that good in Mexico, Brazil has got to be a paradise for someone like me. Think of the money and opportunity there."
"Brazil?"
"Just think about it. With your good looks and my brains, we'll have all the money, chicks and booze we could possibly want. It's about time you and I got to know one another better. What do you say?"
"I'm touched," Steve managed to say while keeping the noticeable sarcasm to a minimum. "But no. I have a life here and San Francisco is home now."
"You think you have a life here, but let me tell you something, kiddo. You won't be there much longer. You might as well know that now, son."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, and it's not fair to you – or to me for that matter – but what happened to you, your cop buddies don't think it's in keeping with the kind of image they need their cops to have."
"What are you saying? That I'm not fit because of something you did?"
"Thems the breaks, kid. It's not fair, but I got the sense they are going to let you go. It was something about being a drain on manpower and wondering what other situations could arise with you."
"What? That's utterly ridiculous. I've had a good record."
"Exemplary, but they're afraid that the apple hasn't fallen too far from the tree with you and me."
Clark finished to silence. He waited a quick moment before he continued. "Kiddo, come on. It will be all right. Let the old man take care you. It's about time we got together. Why don't you give them the jump and come down to Brazil with me?"
With that question, Steve spoke forcefully into the phone. "No way in hell." He slammed the phone back on the receiver and signaled for the officer to take him back to his holding cell.
Steve was rocked back to reality by Mike's booming voice. While he wished this situation never happened to Steve, he was happy that Steve was okay and that perhaps in time could put this situation behind him.
"Hey Buddy boy, you ready to go, huh?"
"Yeah, I've been ready for a bit."
The pair bid their final goodbyes to Deputy Perkins and the staff.
"Well then, let's hit the road," Mike said as he clapped his hands. "I talked to Rudy and he wants to see us when we get back."
Steve nodded his head as he rose from the chair and followed Mike out the door. He couldn't help but wonder what was in store for his near future or if there was any truth to Clark's statements.