TEARS OF RAGE

Chapter 36

When Swaylo drove into the cul-de-sac, a feeling of intrusion washed over him. A feeling akin to a person trying to steal lion cubs from a lion's den.

One wrong step and he was food, he knew...

He could hear the sound of gravel and acorns, being crushed beneath his tires, as he drove to the residence.

His gaze surveyed every window and doorway along the line of houses, trying to convince himself that the tingle of intuition was not touching him.

Henry Bibbs had outlined the approach into the house, without considering the possibility that some nosey neighbor may hear the gunshots, get a make on his vehicle, and call the cops to convey that information...

And there was a lot of ground to cover between the house, and their rendezvous, Swaylo thought to himself.

He refused to approach that type of job, without having an escape route out. A person had to enter and leave by one roadway. That did not leave any other options to escape if, for whatever reason, he had to give chase to his target.

That delay could mean crucial moments that he would have had, to put enough distance between himself and the crime scene. And, if a neighbor had called the cops...

It was a disaster waiting to happen if they got a glimpse of what he was driving.

When he drove past the fourth home to his left, he saw a small goldfish pond, made to sit at the center of the circular driveway. A beautifully designed brick porch highlighted the front of the two-story home.

A man was dating death and disaster when he ignored his intuition. There was a quagmire of mixed emotions that were threatening to submerge him...

He had no Intel on how many people would be present in the home, aside from the daughter.

Bibbs had made it clear that she was not to be touched.

There was supposed to be a key beneath a flower pot, at the corner of the rear patio; if someone may have locked the garage door.

A ten-foot wooden fence separated the rear of the house, from its neighbors' back yard.

Swaylo made a slow pass, drove around the loop, and back. He wanted to get a lay of the land...

Give himself a chance to spot the threat, before it could blindside him.

Most of the homes were built upon two or three acres. The expanse of land, around the properties, was broad enough to view the terrain beyond the back yards.

Swaylo saw that there was an adjoining street, behind the house that he was supposed to hit.

The front of the houses was too open, anyone looking would see him approach.

Unless he could slip up from the rear of the house, it could get complicated making his exit, he decided.

A different set of similar homes were located at the rear of the target's residence.

Pulling out of the cul-de-sac, Swaylo decided to make a brief detour, to recon the area.

Every mistake that he could recall hearing from other people in lockdown, began chalking itself upon the blackboard of his mind.

It was time to improvise, he decided.

Once Henry Bibbs drove off, and sped down Fox Creek Drive, he used his car phone to make a quick call.

His associate would be pleased to know that their problems were almost over...

The ring of the call came across the speaker and resonated through the interior of his Porsche.

The patter of rain was the only sound that overwhelmed the monotony of tires, speeding through the wet streets of Augusta, and the sound of traffic moving through the area.

His call was answered with a quick,

"Has it been taken care of?"

Left hand on the steering wheel, right hand resting on the gearshift, Bibbs rolled his eyes in frustration.

"He should be making his way into the house right now."

"And, what about the girl?" The man asked.

"He has been informed about our position, he will not violate the contract. Relax."

"I don't plan to relax until the deed has been done."

"Well, let me make this call... He'll have to drive past the police precinct, on Fox Creek Drive. There is not a chance in hell, for him to make it out of this alive.

Every route of escape has been sealed. One-shot, two kills..."

Henry Bibbs turned right on Five Notch Road and pulled into the service station that he and Swaylo were supposed to meet up. He stopped alongside the building, where the line of payphones was located.

With a glance at his watch, he estimated that it had taken him less than five minutes to make the drive to the rendezvous.

There was a police precinct two blocks away from the location, and he knew that no matter which direction the kid would take, he had to drive past it.

He jumped out of the Porsche and ran over to the phones.

Placing a handkerchief over the receiver, to distort his voice and avoid leaving prints, Henry Bibbs called 911.

He knew that the call would be given to the North Augusta police precinct. They would send units out to the location.

Lemario Mitchell should run right into the first responders, sent out to investigate the crime, Bibbs estimated.

"911, What's your emergency?"

"You've got to send the police," he cried with the sound of someone undergoing a traumatic situation."I just heard shots fired at my neighbor's house! A man in a dark blue Cadillac just ran from their house with blood on his clothes."

"Where do you live, sir?"

"It's not my house!" Bibbs cried with a hysterical ramble of, "Oh my god... Oh my god... He may have killed them I'm going to check on them! The address is 1156 Fox Creek Circle, senator Blakeley lives at that residence."

He hung up and rushed back to his car. The patter of rain beat across his windshield like rocks, shaken up in a tin can. He wiped its wetness from his face as he drove from the rendezvous.

Within less than twenty minutes, after leaving Swaylo to his task, Henry Bibbs was watching the city of Augusta fade into the distance of his rearview mirror.

Everybody had a price, his had been a half-million in cash.