Page 154 of Maddy's Justice

“Okay,” Diggs said. “In that case, it’s okay.”

It took the better part of an hour to get everybody ready and the chopper refueled. Diggs reminded Paxton their careers were over if anything went wrong. Finally, shortly after 9:00, they took off. Because of the usual bureaucratic nonsense, it would be another hour before the SWAT team followed with Casey and Diggs aboard.

The four of them, bending over at the waist, ran for the trees. They watched Kevin fly off then Roy said, “Okay kids, let’s saddle up. Paxton, the point, please.”

Carvelli looked at his watch. Exactly 11:33P.M.

They had barely begun walking when Roy said to Carvelli, “Watch out for snakes.”

“What? Snakes! Nobody said anything about snakes!” Carvelli almost yelled while the others laughed.

“My big, strong, tough man. Relax, Tony. Most of them aren’t poisonous,” Paxton said.

FIFTY

Ty Skylar came on for his 11:00P.M. to 7:00A.M. shift a few minutes early. He was working security at the Cardiff Building and being the new guy, he worked the mid-watch. His main job, especially on the late shift, was watching the dozen TV monitors. It was tedious and boring, but with his background and lack of education, Ty was happy to be employed.

Fifteen minutes into his shift, a camera on one of the parking garage floors came up on a monitor. It was the second floor below ground in a reserve parking area. What caught his eye was a woman wearing a trench coat, a purse over her left shoulder, walking toward the elevators. An unusual sight at this time of night. The monitor next to the one he was watching brought up something on the same garage floor. A man was exiting the elevator area.

Ty watched for no particular reason other than the woman was kind of interesting. He also watched the man hurrying toward one of the few cars still parked there. As the man approached a large, concrete support beam, the camera following him lost him behind the beam. A second later the woman turned right at the same support beam. The woman and the man must be almost on top of one another at this point, he realized.

As he continued to watch, waiting for both to reappear, Ty saw a flash of light, almost like a camera’s lightbulb. A moment later the woman reappeared walking a bit faster toward the elevators. The man did not come back into view.

Ty continued to watch for over a minute. In that time, the woman had entered an elevator and was gone. The man had still not reappeared. Ty picked up his radio and called all of the security patrol guards. Two minutes later, having heard from the guard who checked the scene, Ty broke into a bit of a nervous sweat, but managed to calmly call 911.

Fifteen minutes later there were three MPD squad cars and an EMT on the scene. The size of the hole in the right side of Roger Labelle’s head made when a bullet exploded through it, indicated he needed the medical examiner more than an EMT.

The police did a thorough search for the woman suspect but found nothing. In fact, they never would. The main reason was she was really a slightly built man, perfect for being filmed by security cameras disguised as a woman.

A half-hour later, after blowing holes in Roger’s head, that same man was in a van across the street and one house down from James Labelle’s house. There was one other man in the van, and they were getting anxious.

Labelle had arrived home about the same time that his brother was getting his head blown open. The problem was, his driver, Alan Dale, was still in the house with him. The hit team knew Dale would be armed and knew how to shoot. The last thing these killers wanted was a gun fight. They needed their quarry alone. On top of that, any minute now a cop was going to show up with the news about Roger.

At 11:50, they saw the garage door start to open. Hopefully, the bodyguard was leaving. As Dale was backing the car down the driveway, he pushed the button on the remote to bring the door back down. Dale reached the street and started forward while the door was still three feet from being fully closed. At that moment, a third member of the hit team, hiding in the bushes by the garage door, dove through the door and rolled into the garage.

When they saw this, the men in the van got out and sprinted across the street into Labelle’s yard. They hid in the darkness by a large maple tree waiting for their partner.

Alan Dale heard the news on a police scanner he kept in the car. There was radio chatter coming from downtown Chicago. A patrol officer was requesting a crime scene unit and detectives for, what might be, a professional hit. The on-scene cops had identified the victim as Roger Labelle, of Labelle Commodities. They had his wallet with driver’s license and business cards.

The instant Dale heard the name, he did a quick U-turn in the middle of the street. He had only driven about three blocks and was screeching back into Labelle’s driveway while the men from the van were still waiting by the tree.

Dale pushed the button to open the garage door as he slammed on the brakes. While the door was on its way up, Dale started to open his door only to be met by a hail of bullets. Knowing who this was, the assassins by the tree started shooting as did their partner in the garage. He had been working on the interior door lock and had not finished. Now, he had to run for his life.

The first bullets hit the side-mirror, both side windows and the door. Dale had his gun out then dove over the front seats into the back. Before he could get off even one shot, it was over. Dale exited the passenger side and slowly made his way around. He knew there were at least two and probably three shooters. By now, all of them had vanished.

“Pack what you need for a couple of days. We need to get out of here,” Dale tersely told Labelle.

“Roger is dead? How? What happened…”

“I don’t know and right now it doesn’t matter. Get your ass in gear. We gotta go. They may decide to come back with more firepower. So, unless you want to join your brother, get a move on,” Dale said.

“Where can we go?” Labelle asked while the two of them hurried up the stairs to Labelle’s bedroom.

“I know a place where you’ll be safe. Give me a small bag and I’ll get your stuff out of the bathroom,” Dale answered him.

Two minutes later, they went out the front door and ran to the car. Labelle saw the Mercedes and said, “Holy shit. Look at what they did to my car.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I meant to tell you, the car’s gonna need a little body work. Come on, let’s go.”

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