"Say uncle," Echo yelled, as he repeatedly hit the commando.
"Uncle…" the bleeding man finally said.
Beano could see that Tommy was in deep shock. "Let's get him outta here. He needs a hospital," he said, as Chevy and Cadillac Bates cut the plastic handcuffs with their skinning knives.
Beano and Cadillac lifted Tommy into the rear of the Ram truck. He was delirious now, losing consciousness. Suddenly, there were the sounds of sirens approaching from far away.
"I think we better throw the chairs in the Buick and get rollin'," Cadillac said. "Picnic's over."
The Bates family members ran to their trucks. Beano yanked Joe to his feet and handed him over to Cadillac Bates. "Sit on this movie star till it's time for his curtain call." Cadillac Bates put Joe Rina in the Silverado crew cab, next to him. Echo Bates got in beside the mobster, who now looked over at the huge albino, wondering what planet they'd all come from and who the hell they were.
"You're so gad dum pretty, I might just have ta fuck ya right here, Boy-oh," Echo Bates said and grinned, exposing two empty spaces in his gum line.
Joe feared it actually might happen.
They all left the clearing, going in different directions, not using the road. The four-wheel-drive trucks churned in low gears down the rock-strewn hillside. Beano was holding Tommy as they roared past the burning FBI satellite van. They slowed, but Grady Hunt, Denny Denniston, and the driver were all dead. The remaining FBI men were running toward them, so they didn't stop, but roared on. They had to save Tommy's life in order to save the bubble.
Chapter Thirty-five.
NOBODY KNEW WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO TOMMY OR Joe Rina. They had completely disappeared. Both had been missing for almost two days when Victoria walked into Gil Green's office in Trenton, unannounced and uninvited, and stood across the oak desk from the bland District Attorney.
"Victoria," he said without warmth, "surprised you had the nerve to show up. You're, of course, guilty of half-a-dozen or more crimes… not to mention possible complicity in the death of several Federal Agents in the Presidio."
"I had nothing to do with anybody's death, Gil. If you had me followed, then maybe it's your fault. As I recall, tailing me was not part of our deal."
He sat and looked at her, and then he started to fidget with the pen on his desk. "I suppose we could argue that indefinitely," he finally said softly.
"Sure we could, and I'd win. I wasn't wanted for anything. You can't prove I had prior knowledge of Beano Bates's record, so cut the bullshit."
"I suppose you had some reason to make this visit." His vacant expression was all-consuming.
"Maybe there's a way we can still save a few parts of our original deal, Gil, but it's gonna have to change in a few key areas."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"Because you aren't holding good cards anymore. Matter of fact, your cards are terrible, especially if you factor in the political aspects. You fumbled this investigation badly. You lost three Federal Agents by screwing up your end. You tried to frame your own prosecutor. The list of 'Oh shits' is awesome," she said.
"I see."
"Do you?"
"And what is it you're proposing?" he said, knowing she hadn't come here to spit this furball up on his desk.
"What if you could still have most of it? What if Tommy Rina is still willing to come forth and testify against his brother?"
"You're harboring Tommy Rina?"
"I'm not 'harboring' anyone; he's not wanted for any crimes, Gil, despite the fact that he's been committing them all his life. But he knows his brother won't rest till he's dead. He'd rather do seven years for second-degree murder than an eternity for profound stupidity."
"Okay, so Tommy comes forward. But nobody's seen Joe. He won't be anywhere around if Tommy is gonna testify against him."
"I can have Joe dropped off on your doorstep."
"And what is Tommy going to say?" Gil asked.
She reached into her briefcase and withdrew a sheaf of papers and handed them to Gil. He looked at them quickly, skim-reading the pages. "It says here that Tommy declares under penalty of perjury that Joe gave him direct orders to kill Carol Sesnick, Bobby Manning, and Tony Corollo," he said, laying the papers down on his desk. "But this confession isn't signed."
"I have the signed copy in a safe place."
"I see…"
"I also have Tommy ready to testify, but you're going to have to do a few things to earn all this political good fortune," she said.
He let some time tick off the antique grandfather clock in the corner of his office. It tick-tocked the seconds loudly and Victoria sat and looked out the window, trying not to show any concern for his decision.
"Okay. So what's the price?"
"Three things," she said, reluctantly shifting her gaze back to him. "One: You promise to try Tommy Rina on second-degree murder, not first, and you arrange with the court for him to have a sentence with a seven-year cap."
"He's the one who pulled the trigger."
"I know, but it's the only way I can get him to play."
"He's a murderer."
"He also has an enemies list longer than Qaddafi's. Tommy's killed too many players. He probably won't even survive the seven-year jolt."
"And what's number two?"
"If he lives out his sentence, you guarantee him the Federal Witness Protection Program."
"And the last?"
"You arrange for all of the Federal charges pending against Beano X. Bates to be dropped."
"I see. Of course, I'm only a New Jersey District Attorney. The Federal Government doesn't generally do what I tell them."
"Hey, Gil, stop fooling around. You and I both know the FBI Organized Crime Strike Force is all over the Rinas. How much do you think they spent last year building a case against Joe and Tommy?"
"I haven't a clue."
"Four hundred and fifty-nine thousand dollars, not including expenses and overtime. Let's round it to half a million in surveillance costs per year. They've been swinging at those two curve balls like Little League outfielders and haven't even hit a pop-up. They'll deal, Gil. They'd like to drop both these bad boys and you get to be the hero. You get to take the bows at the press conference. It's your party. All you've gotta do is broker the deal."
"Beano Bates is on the Ten Most Wanted List. They aren't gonna deal on him."
"He's a white-collar criminal. He's not violent, and besides, that's what it's gonna take to get this done." She looked at him for a long moment and he studied her back, without expression.
Finally, Victoria stood and clicked her briefcase closed. She headed to the door.
"You know I've filed a brief with the New Jersey Bar to get your license yanked. I'm surprised you don't want to trade on that."
"I'm through being a lawyer, Gil. It's no fun anymore, because I figured something out…"
"What's that?"
"I always wanted the law to be about right and wrong, but it's not."
"Then what's it about?"
"It's about legal and illegal. That's a whole different concept that deals with fine points of law that get confessions thrown out of court and evidence inadmissible on technicalities, and I'm just not interested in that game anymore. Call me before close of business today. If you don't call, I'm taking this deal to the Feds. Only reason I brought it here first is, I know once you think about it, you'll fight like a son-of-a-bitch to get it for me… because after all, Gil, once you boil it down, it's still just politics."
Victoria left his office, got in her car, and began the three-hour drive to Wallingford.