Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fix

“I did. I borrowed a phone and called, but no one answered.”

Jamison said, “Okay, for now, we’re going to call the police and they can start looking for your father.”

Decker said, “I can go over to the construction site where he works. You told us where it is. Near the waterfront.”

Danny nodded.

Jamison stopped slicing up a tomato for a salad she was making and said, “Decker, you shouldn’t go alone.”

“I’m not going to do anything dangerous. I’m just going to take a look at the place, that’s all. If I see anything suspicious, I’ll call the cops.” He held out his hand. “I’ll have to take your car, Alex.”

She drew the keys from her jacket pocket but hesitated handing them over. “You promise nothing dangerous?”

“Promise.”

Decker looked at Danny. “What exactly does your father do, Danny, at the construction site?”

“Lots of things. He’s a bricklayer mostly. He’s really good at it.”

“I’ll be back shortly.”

A minute later Decker wedged himself into Jamison’s car and drove off. It only took about fifteen minutes to reach the construction site. It was well dark now and Decker couldn’t see anyone around. The buildings on either side of his destination looked to be in the process of being torn down. This whole area was undergoing a vast renovation.

A chilly wind whistled in between buildings. Decker parked on the street across from the site and drew up the collar of his jacket. He took a minute to look all around. He still didn’t see anyone. And he also didn’t see Amaya’s Sentra parked anywhere.

He jogged across the street and stood in front of the unfinished building. The exterior walls were up and concrete floors had been poured. Decker counted twelve floors. Construction elevators were grafted to the concrete skeleton like tendons on bone.

He maneuvered through some barriers, stepped through an opening, and stared around at the empty first floor. He was very surprised there were no security guards on site here. He put one hand on his pistol and pulled a flashlight from his other pocket. He shone it around but saw nothing except stacks of construction material.

He glimpsed a set of steps leading down to the floors belowground. He debated whether to do this, but decided he had to. For all he knew Amaya might be down there hurt or even dead.

He walked down the steps and reached the lower floor. He pointed his light around and saw that the space here was partially completed. There was a hole in the floor in the far corner, and stacks of bricks set against one wall. When he looked down, he saw that the floor was mortared brick laid over a concrete slab.

The next moment he heard a noise and killed his light. He moved to a corner and listened. He thought he heard voices, but he couldn’t make out any words.

Then came footsteps.

Then came a light.

Decker moved back farther into the shadows.

Four men appeared on the stairs. They were carrying something.

When Decker saw what it was, his hand went to his phone.

It was clearly a body.

They carried it over next to the hole and set it down. Then a light one of the men was holding flicked around the space.

That’s when Decker saw a very nervous-looking Tomas Amaya. His face was bruised and bloody.

Two of the men had guns out. They pointed them at Amaya and he and the fourth man lifted the body and placed it into the hole.

“ Preparar el hormigón .”

Decker’s Spanish wasn’t that good, but he didn’t need it to be.

Amaya lifted up a bag of cement mix, cut it open, and poured it into a portable mixer. He added water and turned the machine on. Meanwhile, the other man had taken the body and dumped it into the hole.

It was now clear what was going to happen.

And why they needed Amaya.

He was going to put the concrete in the hole and then brick it over, seamlessly matching, no doubt, the work he had already done here.

That was why they wanted him.

To hide the body. And Decker didn’t think the bricklayer was going to live to work on another job after this one.

Decker took out his phone and saw with dismay that down here he had no service.

Shit.

And then he realized there was another person down here with him.

Because that person had just stuck a gun muzzle in his back.

Decker was shoved forward, stumbled, nearly lost his balance, and then regained his footing. A light hit him in the face.

“Traerlo aqui.”

Decker was shoved in the back again.

“Move!”

He reached the hole and stared down, saw the body, and then looked over at his captors.

There were five of them, plus Amaya. They were young, tough-looking, and all of them were armed.

Decker did not like these odds at all.

He wondered for a moment about Jamison’s reaction to his being dead.

Told you so, Amos.

But he actually knew it would not be that. She would be devastated. And right now that made him feel worse than the imminent danger he was in.

The little man he had seen at the apartment building was not among the five. Danny had said he had seen the man in a suit with a hard hat. Apparently the actual murder and hiding-the-body part was not within his job description.

And that was probably why no security guards were posted here tonight. They didn’t want anyone around for this little extra task.

But the other men here seemed more than prepared to do the burial honors.

One of the men looked at Amaya and said, “ Espacio para dos .”

Decker didn’t need to be fluent in Spanish to understand that order either. The dos part was all he required. He was the spare and they were going to bury him along with the other guy.

He had something going for him, however long the odds would still be against him. They hadn’t searched him for a weapon. That was a mistake.

Yet there was a guy behind him with a gun. And the guy holding the light had a gun in his other hand. Both were pointed right at Decker.

And there were three others there, all with weapons. He could maybe take out one or two, but after that one of the others would be able to kill him. It was simple math, and he came up short in every scenario that flashed through his mind.

“ Él es un federale ,” said Amaya suddenly, pointing at Decker.

The men turned to stare at him.

“ Es un federale ,” Amaya said again. “FBI!” He pointed feverishly at Decker.

The man holding the flashlight took a step toward Decker. “ Federale ?”

Decker nodded.

The man smiled. “I don’t give a shit. You’re dead.”

Decker had no choice now. He didn’t care if the odds were not in his favor. If he was going to die, he was going to take at least one of the pricks with him.

He lowered his shoulder, dropped into a squat, and exploded out of it. He drilled the guy right in the sternum, maxing out the thrust from his legs. He hit the man so hard he was lifted off his feet, flew backward, and with a scream fell into the hole.

Now Decker’s problem was obvious: There were four other guys to deal with.

The good thing was the only light had just disappeared into the hole.

Darkness was his best friend right now.

Gunfire erupted all around. Fortunately, Decker had dropped to the floor an instant before, pulled his gun, and was about to fire when he saw something flash past him so fast, he couldn’t even tell what it was.

But he did hear the impact as body met body and one of them gave. He next heard the clunk of something hitting the brick floor hard.

He rolled to his right, aimed his gun, and fired.

The man who had jammed his gun into Decker’s back caught the round in his belly. He doubled over screaming, and a few moments later, blood came out of his mouth. He dropped to the floor and out of the fight. Belly wounds were a bitch, Decker knew. The guy would probably bleed out right there, and he could not have cared less.