Tim Dorsey: Gator A-GO-GO

He was closing fast, walking as briskly as he could without drawing notice. Thirty feet to go. He didn’t count on one thing.

Guillermo and Melvin stepped into an elevator.

“No!” Serge sprinted across the rest of the lobby. The doors closed just before he could stick a hand through the crack and pop them back open.

A thumb mashed the up button.

Coleman arrived. “What’s happening?”

Serge muttered to himself, staring up at ascending numbers.

The next elevator dinged open. “Coleman! Hold that one!”

“I got it.” Coleman stood on the second car’s threshold, its doors repeatedly banging open and closed against his shoulders. “Aren’t you getting in?”

Serge continued staring up. “Just a sec.” The numbers went higher and higher.

Mahoney dashed into the lobby. “Serge!”

Serge watched the elevator numbers pause. “Eighteenth floor!”

He jumped in the second car with Coleman, and the doors closed.

Mahoney ran to the elevators, pressed a button and looked up at numbers.

Agent Ramirez sat on the edge of a bed with eyes closed.

Knock-knock.

Andy flinched. “Who’s that?”

Ramirez didn’t respond, just walked across the room and opened the door.

Guillermo came in with his briefcase and young guest.

“Melvin,” said Andy. “What are you doing here?”

“Not my idea.”

A poke in Melvin’s back. “Over there with your friend.”

He walked toward Andy, revealing the gun behind him.

Guillermo set his briefcase on the dresser. “What’s this business about two Andys?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about,” said Ramirez.

Guillermo flipped latches and raised the top. “It’s all there, two fifty. You can count if you want.”

Andy backed up against a wall. “Serge was right.”

The agent closed the briefcase.

Guillermo cracked an unfriendly smile. “We always did work on trust.”

“That’s not it,” said Ramirez. “I want to make a deal.”

“Deal?”

“You keep the money. Nobody will ever find out, not even Madre.”

“What do you get?”

“The kids.”

Guillermo laughed.

Andy eyed Ramirez’s weapons spread out on the bed.

“I’m serious,” said the agent. “He was just five at the time, never had anything to do with our business.”

Guillermo turned with his.380 automatic. “Little too late to grow a conscience.”

“Serge was right,” said Ramirez.

“Serge!” said Guillermo. “What is it with that guy?”

“Listen to me,” said the agent. “This accomplishes nothing.”

“Accomplishes revenge.”

“You can’t deposit that in a bank.”

“I always do what Madre wants. You did too, until now.”

Guillermo stepped forward.

Ramirez side-stepped to block his path.

“Have any idea what you’re doing?” said Guillermo.

“This needs to end.”

“You’re making a big mistake. If Madre ever found out you-” Guillermo stopped and smiled again, placing a hand on Ramirez’s shoulder. “I understand this isn’t your territory. Like our trip to Battle Creek. Bothers most people…”

“Battle Creek?” said Andy. “What about Battle Creek?”

“… So I’m going to forget about this, okay? Now move aside.”

Ramirez didn’t budge.

An elevator opened at the end of the hall. Serge and Coleman jumped out running.

“Which room is it?” asked Coleman.

“I don’t know,” said Serge. “Andy! Andy! Can you hear me? Just yell!…”

Guillermo stepped chest-to-chest with Ramirez. Half foot taller. He looked down into the agent’s eyes. “This has become tiresome. Last chance to give you a pass.”

In the next split second, events cascaded.

Ramirez’s eyes briefly glanced toward the bed.

Guillermo caught the look and began raising his gun.

Before he could, Ramirez shoved him hard in the chest. Guillermo stumbled as the agent dove for his weapons.

Guillermo’s automatic and Ramirez’s ankle gun came up at the same time.

Standoff.

They stared without blinking. Ramirez carefully walked backward. “Andy and Melvin, get behind me.”

“Put the gun down,” said Guillermo. “Move away from them.”

Serge reached the west end of the floor and turned down another corridor.

“This hotel’s freakin’ huge,” said Coleman. “How many hallways are there?”

“Too many,” said Serge. “Andy!… Andy!… Where are you?”

At the east end of the floor, someone in a fedora ran around a corner. “Serge!… Andy!… Where are you?…”

Andy peeked over Ramirez’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t have to end like this,” said Guillermo.

“I might as well be dead,” said Ramirez. “All those horrible things you got me into. This won’t make up for it, but at least it won’t add to it.”

“There’s more money,” said Guillermo. “We should have talked about that earlier. The kid took a lot of work on your part. It’s only fair.”

“Even if I give him up, you’ll still kill me. Maybe not here, now. But you will.”

Still aiming guns, trigger fingers twitching, getting sweaty.

“Nonsense,” said Guillermo, waiting for the slightest distraction to get off the first shot and not take a slug in return. “Even if you don’t trust me, think about it: We’ve got too much invested in you. How will we replace such a valuable asset?”

“My guess is you already have others,” said Ramirez. “I never should have gotten mixed up with your fucking family.”

Guillermo gritted his teeth. Nostrils flared.

Faintly, from outside: “ … Andy! Andy!… ” The voice trailing off as it went by. “ … Call out if you can hear me!… ”

“In here!” yelled Andy. “I’m in here!”

Serge hit the brakes and ran back a few doors.

Coleman crashed into him. “Is this the room?”

“Don’t know… Andy! You in there?”

“Serge! Quick!”

Serge threw his shoulder into the door.

Ramirez involuntarily glanced toward the sound.

It was a microsecond, but all the time Guillermo needed. He fired, hitting Ramirez in the stomach. The agent shot back, but he was off balance from the gut wound, and the bullet went wide, splintering through the door.

Serge grabbed his ear and looked at his hand. Blood.

Guillermo’s second shot hit Ramirez’s shooting hand. The gun ricocheted off a wall. Guillermo marched forward, continuing to fire at the defenseless agent.

Ramirez’s mind attained clarity. This was why he was born. Anyone else would have gone down long ago, but with whatever strength the agent had left, he willed himself to remain an upright human shield for the two boys.

More shooting, now from two directions: Guillermo riddling Ramirez, and outside the room, where Serge blew the doorknob off.

Guillermo’s next shot struck Ramirez in the forehead, dropping him like an anvil.

No place for Andy and Melvin to hide.

Guillermo pulled the trigger. Click.

“Shit.” He replaced the clip.

Another shot from the hall blew the deadbolt halfway across the room.

Guillermo aimed between Andy’s eyes.

Serge kicked the door open and fired.

The bullet struck Guillermo’s arm from behind, spinning him. He returned fire as Serge ducked out of the doorway.

Serge hit the ground in the hall and poked his gun around the door frame, aiming at an upward angle so if he missed Guillermo, stray lead wouldn’t hit the kids.

He didn’t miss. The second shot hit Guillermo in the same arm. It pissed him off. He switched the gun to his left hand.