Chapter Twenty Two - That Ain't Opportunity Knocking

The waves crawling up the beach outside Rudy’s open window lulled him quickly to sleep though he’d needed little help tonight. He was having sweet dreams of swimming in the ocean with Raven when every now and then Elder Sea Nettle would swim by with a smirk on his face. Suddenly this bizarre dream was interrupted by a loud banging on his back door.

He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep but the banging persisted. He was barely conscious and not quite aware of what was intruding on his dreams. When the banging started for the third time he bolted straight up and headed for the door, still in his boxers. It was the loud bang of trouble.

“Who is it?” he yelled from behind the door, clutching his baseball bat.

“Rudy Davis?” The voice was familiar but he couldn’t place it.

“Maybe, who are you?”

“John.”

“John who?”

“John Preston.”

Rudy opened the door and there stood John, looking like he’d been hit by a car. If a brick had fallen from the sky and hit Rudy in the head, he couldn’t have been more surprised. John was dirty, covered in blood and had something that might have once been a white shirt tied around his waist. Rudy was too shocked at the sight of him to speak.

“I know I’m the last person you ever wanted to see,” John began, “but you always struck me as the decent sort and I don’t know where else to go.” It came off sounding remarkably like the way he’d rehearsed it.

“What the hell happened to you?” Rudy asked, still clutching the bat.

“It’s a long story,” John said, “can I tell it to you inside?”

“You must be kidding. Why would I want any part of what ever trouble you’re in?” Rudy asked incredulously.

“I can’t give you a good reason but I’m desperate. Please. It’s a matter of life and death and I know you’re not the type to turn you back on another person in need.”

Oh please! Rudy thought. Skip the transparent flattery. He desperately wanted to send this trouble on down the road and climb back in bed but something told him it wouldn’t go away that easily.

“Okay,” Rudy said, against his better judgment, “come in. You need a Doctor, let me throw some clothes on and I’ll get you to the emergency room.”

“No.” John said sounding panicked. “I can’t go to the Emergency Room. Do you know a Dr. who could just dress my wound without making a report?”

“Oh, sure John, got a whole list of people like that.” Rudy smacked the back of Johns head. “The hell do you think, moron? What kind of trouble are you in, anyway? What happened to you?”

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” Rudy fixed an unamused glare at him. “Suffice it to say,” John continued, “that some very bad people are after me and I need to lay low until I can get off the island. Plus just one other thing…”

“Yeah, what?”

“I need some cola.”

“Cola?”

“Yeah, cola… coke, you know.”

“You need coke.” Rudy repeated in disbelief.

“Big time. Look at me, I’m wounded and I’m crashing hard to boot. I’m desperate. You must know where to score some.”

This was too much. The man shows up on his door step with a bullet hole in his side and his biggest concern is where he’s going to score some coke. Rudy very nearly threw him out of his house and locked the door behind him.

He thought for a moment and he realized there was only one person who would know how to deal with this. He picked up the phone and called Charlie. Not a problem, Charlie told him, one of his golfing buddies was a Doctor. Charlie said he’d arrange for him to look at John. Like most people Charlie knew, the good Doctor owed him a favor, and now, so did Rudy, thanks to the scumbag that was currently bleeding on his furniture.

“OK, here’s the deal,” Rudy said when he hung up. “I’ve got a Doctor on his way, a friend of a friend and he won’t make a police report. After the Doc treats your wounds, my friend is going to fly you over to the Big Island in his Cessna and get you in a rehab program he works with.”

It was the first Rudy had ever heard of Charlie working with any rehab program.

“No one will know you’re there; you’ll be safe from the boogie man, or whoever the hell is after you.”

“Hey, I don’t need rehab, Okay? Just score me some friggin’ coke and let me hang out here for a few days until things cool off and then I’ll be gone and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Not gonna happen like that, Paco. My way or the highway, plain and simple.”

“Fine, I’m outta here.”

Rudy walked to the front door and held it open for him. “Okay, good luck.” he said.

From the look on John’s face, it was obvious that he hadn’t expected this. He got slowly to his feet and walked to the door, trying to decide what to do now.

“Shit.” He said. “I got no where else to go. Shit.” One last try; “Just score me some coke and I’m gone.”

“See ya.” Rudy said, still holding the door. “You’re letting the bugs in, hurry up.” In all honesty, he hoped that John would leave and he could go back to bed and pretend like this had all been a really lame dream.

John stood in the doorway staring at him. “Man, you just don’t understand, I need…”

“Hey,” Rudy cut him off, “I don’t need to understand, brah, what’s it going to be?”

“Shit.” John said again. “When does the Doc get here?”


The morning sun woke Circe and she blinked and shaded her eyes with her hand, then pulled on the lever to raise her seat and sat up behind the steering wheel. Her back ached from her short nap in the rented Nissan and she desperately needed a little wake-me-up. She was parked at a beach park a few miles from Honolulu. The dashboard clock read 6:30, way too early to be up as far as she was concerned.

She had worked it out so carefully, but nothing was going quite like it was supposed to. She was just too damn soft. If only she’d killed Tiny and John like she’d planned, she’d be on the mainland right now, money and drugs in tow. She could easily have done it last night and she was certainly a better shot than that, but when it came right down to it, murder was tougher than she figured. Just too damn soft.

Still, Plan B had gone pretty well. She smiled at the thought of how she’d played both John and Tiny for the fools that they were. Neither had ever suspected that she was up to anything; each had thought that it was they who were using her and in fact, she had needed John to help her cash in the stock certificates.

She really hadn’t planned to mess with Tiny but when he started calling and hitting on her a couple of months ago, it had all made perfect sense. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure that she covered all the bases and her soft spot at the moment of truth last night had proven that to be a wise idea.

She had no idea how Tiny could have gotten out of the handcuffs so quickly but she had recognized one of his associates at the Hawaiian Airlines terminal when she’d showed up for her flight to Seattle last night. She managed to slip away unseen and she knew that she was lucky to be alive.

Now she was going to have to come up with a plan to get off the island with the goods before the goons caught up to her. Either that, or find a place to lay low for a while. Even Tiny’s boss, whoever he was, couldn’t watch the airport forever.

First things first, she thought as she pushed the trunk release to get the cocaine out of the trunk and fix herself a hit.

When she walked to the rear of the car, a silver Buick cruised slowly past and then turned around. She’d been made. She jumped back into the Nissan, fired it up and headed toward the highway. As she sped away, she checked her mirror and saw the Buick stop at a scenic turnoff. A silver haired woman got out of the passenger side, camera in hand and took a picture of the beach.

Tourists... If the goons didn’t get her, the paranoia would.


Once the pain subsided, Tiny got pissed. He was a large man and, although he was seriously overweight, he was still very strong. Back in his days as an offensive lineman at the University of Utah, he could bench press more than any man on the team. That was before he got caught dealing and thrown off the team.

The bed was a wooden-framed piece of Ikea-looking crap and no match for a furious, oversized Hawaiian. It took less than five minutes of thrashing before the bed was demolished and he was free. He was so angry that he didn’t even notice how badly he’d bruised his wrists and ankles in the process.

When Circe had approached him with the gun that last time, he’d been more frightened than he’d been in a long time, certain that she was going to shoot his balls off. That fear was nothing compared to the fear that coursed through his veins now as he dialed his boss’s number.

“This better be good.” Leonardo Azeri said when he finally came on the line.

“We had a little problem with the exchange.” Tiny said, trying to sound as if the whole thing were just some minor misunderstanding.

“What kind of problem?” Leonardo asked warily. He listened intently as Tiny recounted the whole story. It was especially difficult to tell the part about allowing himself to be hand cuffed, be he’d learned long ago never to lie to his boss. Leonardo had a way of finding out the truth and lying was how you ended up dead.

“I’m sorry, boss. I screwed up bad, I know, I’m sorry.” Tiny waited for the explosion that was sure to follow.

“Okay,” Mr. Azeri said calmly, “I’ll send some people to the airport and we’ll start checking all the hotels. They won’t get off the island alive. Meanwhile, you stay right where you are. I’ll send Tony over to your hotel; you do exactly as he says.”

“Yes sir.” Tiny said humbly, and hung up.

He’d expected Mr. Azeri to come uncorked but he’d taken the whole thing rather calmly. Hey, things go wrong sometimes, right? Maybe this wasn’t as bad as it seemed.


“Speak.” Tony answered the phone in his usual way. He wasn’t known for being particularly friendly and he thought it made him seem no-nonsense to answer the phone like that. He was fiercely loyal to his employer and he had a mean streak you could drive a Mack truck through. Most of Leonardo’s men had killed when they had to but Tony was the only one who seemed to like it; and he had a gift for it.

“Tony,” Leonardo began, “Tiny had a little problem with the exchange tonight. I want you to meet him in his room at the Sheraton Waikiki. You two find the girl and her boyfriend and take care of them. Make sure you get the money and the goods before you take them out. When that’s done, take Tiny out. I can’t have this kind of incompetence, you understand?”

“Sure, Mr. Azeri, “I’ll take care of it.” Tony grinned. He could hardly wait to off Tiny. That worthless, overgrown Hawaiian was long overdue as far as Tony was concerned.

“Keep me informed.” Leonardo said, and hung up.