Guns And Roses

Chapter 17

Now that the Chief had declared the case as a rescue operation, it had ceased to remain any sort of an investigation, unless and until either the entire organization or part of it was caught with enough evidence to hold them in prison (Layne being the obvious primary target), or if intelligence was confirmed that the hostages had been killed.

Taking the first case as a working hypothesis for the sake of Walker, the Chief proceeded with the case.

Now as the case wasn’t anymore in New York jurisdiction but in California, technically the Precinct didn’t have any authority over the rescue operation. Fortunately, though, the Chief maintained more than an amiable relationship with the C.P.D. Chief and the Los Angeles Department, so he was able to convey to them the true gravity of the situation and how his team comprising Walker and Thornton, would surely be indispensable.

The L.A.P.D. was willing enough to let in Thornton and Walker on the rescue mission, as they had been informed about what the organisation’s leader, Layne Munford, actually wanted. He was out for blood, and only Sebastian Walker’s blood would do.

Most interestingly however, as the investigation had at least momentarily been abandoned, all the clues were basically useless. Even evidence against any individual wasn’t exactly concrete. This went a long way to show the prowess Walker held over his mental faculties. Based on merely a few complete facts he had constructed an entire case using his personal knowledge of events, and his amazing wit. The entire case was based on Walker’s supposition and conjecture, yet every piece of the puzzle seemed to fit in without much difficulty.

In any case, about 6 hours after Rutt’s statement, Walker and Layne found themselves collecting their luggage at Los Angeles Airport.

As soon as they exited the terminal of the Airport, both men were greeted with a gorgeously clear sky, a spectacularly shiny sun, and a pleasant March air breeze. To top it all off, they were faced with the immensely impassive faces of two Detectives from the L.A.P.D.

“Detective Walker, Detective Thornton,” said the first officer briskly, with some expression on his face which was probably supposed to express a smile. “I’m Senior Detective Marc Taylor from the L.A.P.D, and this is Mr. Sam Darden from our Special Crimes division.” “I’ve been trained for such situations,” started the short and stocky Darden. “We need to strategise our positions perfectly, so as not to alarm the inmates of the cottage at all. My team has already scouted the land, but obviously we haven’t climbed the hill yet, so we can’t say with any surety, where our hostages are exactly located. You are sure, Mr. Walker, that the hostages are present in the cottage?” he asked in his overtly loud voice, looking slightly doubtful.

“There can be no other alternative,” said Walker with finality ringing in his tone.

“Very well,” said Darden, still not sounding too sure.

“So now do we directly head on towards the cottage, or should we first head on back to your base?” asked Thornton, trying to get things back on track desperately. “Despite having an edge, I have no doubt that if we waste too much time, our hostages will be killed and the members of this sinister group will flee,” he said, looking at all three men.

“Your worries have no basis, Shane,” said Walker coolly. “If we can trust these men,” he said gesturing towards the two newcomers into their lives, “and I assure you we can, then our kidnappers cannot escape, from such a high altitude when the ground is completely surrounded. I hope you have eyes on the sea?” he asked, this time addressing Marc.

“Yes, we did think of that. We can’t see any means by which they could possibly make an escape from the sea, there isn’t any transport. But just to cover all our bases, I’ve stationed two men out at sea,” said Marc, sounding quite proud.

“Well, that’s good. For now, we can do nothing else but head on to the L.A.P.D. office, and go in the night. It’s still seven right now,” said Walker checking his Timex.   

“We should leave for the cottage at nine, and prep ourselves till then. We need to be heavily armed, and have at least one back up squad in case we fail to accomplish our mission,” said Walker, who without any opposition, had simply taken up the role of leading troops into enemy territory.

“That’s the least of our worries,” answered Detective Taylor, as they headed on towards his vehicle. “Who will be going up? We surely can’t send a load of people up there, can we?” he asked.

“Well, I think that the four of us plus a couple more members from the rescue team would be more than sufficient, wouldn’t it?” asked Walker, this time addressing Sam Darden.

“More than sufficient, exactly,” said Darden, vigorously nodding his head, resembling an ancient bobble-head.

“Well, that’s done,” said Walker seriously. “Oh for Christ’s sake!” he exclaimed loudly, making the others jump in surprise. Thornton actually reached for his gun as a reflex, but remembered he wasn’t allowed to carry it till here, due to flight regulations.

He looked around cautiously, in any case, “What the hell was that for?!” he asked, not being able to see any threat in sight.

Walker simply pointed towards the car in front of him, with the red siren on top which would start blaring soon enough.

“Yes, Mr. Walker, that’s my official transport,” said Detective Taylor rather hotly. “You have any issue with it?” he asked with a tone of absolute asperity; he wasn’t even trying to hide it!

Walker just sighed and laughed it off with Thornton, who at least got the joke. The other two just stared at them stupidly, having no idea whatsoever had happened. They got into the car in any case; Mr. Taylor slightly more relaxed now, though still sharing some confusion with his colleague, Darden.

As soon as Detective Taylor started the car, the siren came to life and blared with such an unattractive sound, that Walker had to seriously control himself from smashing the thing with his bare hands.  

Taylor gunned the accelerator, and only Thornton could hear Walker’s mutterings under his breath, “Pontiac, Pontiac, Pontiac,” he recited incessantly, as they left for the city.