The Serpent and the Crow

Book 3: Chapter Three

Wade looked behind, and the light from the entrance was fading. They were so deep down that only the outline of features was visible. Hank peered into the blackness.

"Give me your combat knife?"

"What for, Chief?"

"'Cos I am a senior with certain privileges, like asking young lads to lock their trap, listen, and learn. Now, hand that bowie knife."

Wade saw him shank a metallic object in the dark. Liquid trickled down, splashback on their boots. He struck a match. Hank held a makeshift flaming torch with an empty petrol can he must have found scattered along the path. The flickering shadows danced around.

"I don't enjoy having open flames down here, cos the deeper we travel, the more likely it for the gas build-up and that's how Coyote Hills burned," Hank said.

Discarded and rusted tracks lay abundant in the shafts. They came to a junction that was already lit. Hank thought it best to extinguish their torch.

"Old Hank ain't ditching his weapon or Glock, that's for certain."

"Shh" responded Wade.

The detectives heard murmuring voices coming up around the bend. Hank slid the pump action on his shotgun to determine if a round was chambered. Wade did the same, pulling on the slide of his police issue to check. The detectives hugged the corner, peeking around the bend. Wade spotted two men dressed like hooded Gregorian monks. Wade did not recognise the tallest one, but he knew the other one.

Mick Flavell said, "I was told the Great Eye would grant my request upon the completion."

"There was no such agreement made."

Hank whispered to Wade, "That's the CIB director."

Wade put a finger to his lips.

Mick said, "I demand to speak to the Great Eye myself..."

Before Flavell could finish his sentence, the other man lifted him off his feet with a chokehold grip.

"You don't get to make demands here, Flavell."

Hank whispered, "Alright we got to move, you with me?"

"No. Just let it play out."

"Freeze Solemn PD, drop him."

The man tossed Flavell to the side. He quickly fired upon the detectives. Hank pulled the trigger and the shotgun blast reverberated around the tunnels and in their ears.

The assailant escaped in the chaos. Hank stood guard as Wade checked out Mick Flavell. Mick took the brunt of Hank's blast and the shrapnel pattern appeared in blood spots over the CIB director's white shirt. Wade tried to plug his wounds with his shirt he took off earlier.

"Please. Help me."

"You got a lot of nerve, you sorry sack of shit. How deep are you in this, Mick?"

"Hank, shut up. Let him talk."

"What are you going to learn, Wade? You saw what I saw. He's dirtier than Old Hanks drawers."

"I was undercover."

"Oh, horseshit Mick. What the fuck kind of undercover you doing dipshit? You're just the lead investigator in this fucking case."

"What are you doing here, Mick? Make it good. Hank's making some mighty good points here that are hard to deny."

"It wasn't a lie, I infiltrated these guys long ago."

"Guys?"

"I realized what they could do?"

"So, what you're saying is... you stuck your beak in the pie and you were going to report it but you liked the taste of it, is that about right?"

"Yeah, Hank."

"Don't call me that, you fucking turncoat. Let us go, Wade. Let this fucker bleed out."

"He's the Criminal Investigation Bureau Director, Hank."

"Not no more. Should have let the Frankenstein looking motherfucker goosestep over this rat fuck."

"He might appreciate more about what we're against."

"There's more down there. But you can take 'em."

"Are they carrying?"

Flavell nodded as he slipped in and out from the loss of blood pooling on the cave floor.

"How many?" Wade said as he slapped Flavell awake.

"Six or Seven, at least."

"You sure? I don't want to get down and get into a shootout with two dozen swinging dicks."

"I'm sure, ask Hank. He'll know if I'm lying."

Hank looked into Flavell's eyes. He nodded; Flavell was showing all his cards at the table.

Hank said, "Is the girl still alive?"

"Douglas' girl is down there."

"Focus. Is she alive?"

Flavell coughed out copious amounts of blood.

"Stand aside, Wade."

Wade followed orders and laid the Director's head on the cavern floor. Hank stood over him.

"Can Wade and I take these guys on by our lonesome?"

Flavell shook his head. Smirking, a curious and creepy smile overcame him in his dying breath. Hank ejected his spent round and loaded another shell. Pulled the trigger. The sound reverberated and Flavell's head splintered into oblivion. Wade stood back in shock.

"You got a problem with how old Hank dealt with this?"

"No. But was he telling the truth? Can we take these guys?"

Hank racked his pump action.

"Who gives a fuck? We're going down there, regardless."

They were past the point of no return. Schofield would have done it himself, but he was hesitant of having the Chief of Police with him. Hank had enough of him breathing the same air as him.