The More Things Change...(Conclusion)

[Robbie C.]

And we've come to the end of my little 'what if' for the team. I've left some things open, just in case I decide to continue with the little tale. Hope everyone enjoyed it.

 

It was just after noon the next day when Tubbs got the magic page from Moncado. They'd all gathered for the daily roundtable, and Castillo raised his hand to indicate Tubbs should return the call before they got started.

Hitting buttons to make the call look like it was coming from a room in the Grand Hotel, Tubbs waited and then spoke. “Mr. Moncado! Yes, the deal went fine. Your man Jorge was a bit of a surprise, but I understand you had other business....Yes, my people were very happy with the shipment, both in terms of quantity and quality. They're looking to increase their order, and are willing to adjust the price up if the quality remains this high...A meeting? At your house? Of course. And you'd like Burnett to come as well? I'm sure that can be arranged.” Tubbs pretended to write down the address on his pad and then read it back. “Tomorrow around noon? We'll be there. And I expect Burnett will want to bring his two friends as well...I'm sure he means no insult. It's just business down here. Of course. Thank you for understanding.”

“So we're in.” Sonny's eyes lit up.

Trudy smiled. “Mindy and I will let the cat out of the bag, then. We think Maynard's in the country, or is about to come in. There's been no traffic to the Peru number since yesterday, but we did get one call in to Moncado from an airport in Columbia. Another call went to Holmes, the arms dealer, at about the same time. Then we picked up one more to Holmes from one of those sketchy airstrips in the Bahamas. All quiet ever since, but it's a straight line from there to the Keys. And Moncado has his own landing strip. Not big enough to handle a plane, but it can easily accommodate a helicopter. And seaplanes or float planes can use his dock.”

Castillo nodded. “Make one last contact with Moreno. I need to know if he's heard anything about more foreign guns or someone hiring more shooters in the last two days. But that can wait until after this meeting. Trudy, Dave and Randy will want everything you have on Moncado's house. Mindy, please ask the marshal's office if they can hold that tactical team on alert starting tomorrow around 1000. We can't stage close to the house. The Keys don't have room for that.”

“They have choppers. We can get the team from the office to anywhere in the Keys inside of fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you. Let him know it's close hold, but we will be moving on Maynard tomorrow. We'll need arrest warrants and anything else you feel is appropriate.” She nodded, writing on her pad. Castillo's eyes blazed with a focused intensity. “Moncado tried to hurt us. Tomorrow we will take him and his boss down. Once we have those plans, take as much time as you need to plan. Crockett, Tubbs, Randy and Dave will be the first entry group. They'll be expecting you. Trudy, Mindy and I will enter the area a bit before. Not close enough to draw attention, but close enough to react the second things go down. We should be able to look like lost tourists without too much trouble.”

Sonny chuckled, trying to picture Castillo in a bathing suit looking lost. Picturing Mindy in a bikini was another thing entirely, and he pushed that image out of his mind. “So he was cool with Dave and Randy coming in, Rico?”

“Yes and no.”

“If you don't mind, boss, I think Dave and I would rather find an overwatch position. We can go in while it's still dark and get set up.” Randy grinned. “You should know by now that our one useful skill is staying in one place for hours.”

Castillo nodded. “Did Moncado say this was a social call?”

“More or less. He said we were celebrating the start of a great friendship.”

“Then I can go in with Dave and Randy. Mindy and Trudy will be your dates. It wouldn't look right if you showed up at a drug party without women.”

Trudy smiled. “I'll help you pick out a dress, Mindy. I know you've done UC before, but these cartel parties are different.”

Sonny nodded. “I like the idea of overwatch. I always feel better when someone's covering my back. And if they've got any heavy artillery in there you can pick 'em off before they get in the game.”

Castillo looked around the table. “Keep in mind this is a trap, but we're not supposed to know it's a trap. It's no coincidence this call came just after Maynard might have arrived in country. He's the objective of this entire operation. Do not kill him unless there is no other option. We want him alive.”

Randy looked down the table. “What about Moncado?”

“He's secondary.” Castillo looked around. “He would be good to arrest, but the men in that compound are likely his men. If he goes down, they will loose their tactical cohesion and will to fight. That makes Maynard easier to take alive.”

“Roger that.” Randy turned back to his notes.

Sonny blinked. That was as close as he'd ever heard Castillo come to issuing a shoot on sight order. But he couldn't argue with the reasoning behind it. Moncado was dangerous as hell, and it was likely fear of him that kept his men on the same page. Remove that fear, and they were just another collection of thugs with automatic weapons they likely hadn't used in real combat conditions before.

Trudy brought out a set of blueprints and a blow-up of another Metro-Dade aerial photograph and laid them on the table. At that moment the reality of what was happening hit Sonny right between the eyes. He was finally going to get a real shot at Maynard. Not some chase from a distance. Not something where an alphabet soup Federal agency would swoop in to rescue him. This time they were going to be allowed to finish the job. The thought settled warm in his stomach like a good shot of bourbon, spreading out through his entire body. It was a feeling he hadn't know for years, reminding him why he'd become a cop in the first place.

Castillo's voice brought him back to the room. “These are the construction blueprints of the house. There's no guarantee Moncado hasn't made modifications to the interior since then. The photo was taken last week, so everything should be the same. There's a map if you need it, but I think the picture will be enough for planning.”

Randy moved closer, switching to an empty chair near the head of the table. “Looks like he cut back some of the undergrowth near the wall. Got any specs on that?”

Trudy looked at her notes. “According to the permit it's eight feet tall. Brick covered with stucco or plaster. More decorative than anything else.”

“Good. The photo makes it look like there's a bit of a rise over toward the south, with a good view of the front and rear courtyards. Is that accurate?”

“Yes.” Castillo's voice was firm. “According to the topo the rise is about thirty feet with a gentle incline. You'd be about three hundred yards from the furthest part of the courtyard there.”

“Outstanding. We'll try to set up there first, with alternate sites along the incline unless there's no good vision. It looks like he planned his security for a close-in fight and never considered any sniper threat.”

“That's standard drug dealer procedure.” Sonny spoke as his eyes shifted from the plan to the photo and back again. “They like to rush each other with MAC-10s or UZIs. Distance shooting is like going to the moon for them. They see it on TV but never really think to do it themselves.”

“Good. We'll have the ballistic advantage out to three hundred or four hundred yards then. If his boys are anything like those goofs we saw at the warehouse I don't think they can hit anything with those AKs past one hundred years.” Randy nodded. “I'll pack an M-14 to back up Dave on the long gun. We'll be using the same ammo, and I can drop them with iron sights at that range if numbers start to turn on us.” He chuckled. “And if it gets close, we've got our .45s and there will be AKs to pick up if we've had more than a minute to work.”

“And there's just the one road in?” Sonny looked at the photo, narrowing his eyes to block reflections from the fluorescent tubes overhead.

“Yes.” Mindy nodded, letting Trudy sort through some more notes. “He's got the helipad, but there's no helicopter registered in his name or any of his shell companies that we know about. I think it's there more for VIPs. His dock's got a couple of boats, but none of them fast enough to outrun your Scarab. Or the Coast Guard. We'll have one of their drug interception boats on standby just in case someone tries to get away by water. The Navy's got some kind of patrol plane working the coast as part of their narcotics surveillance program, so if anything takes off from the compound we can track it in real time and know where they're going.”

Trudy finished sorting her papers. “We think Moncado's got at least twenty guards in the compound. They're a mix of local help and some of his Columbians, about a fifty-fifty split. At least that's what we think. There's no direct surveillance of the compound, but we do have a functioning tap there and have been monitoring radio transmissions. They use hand radios to communicate, so we have a rough idea of watch patterns. They don't work the area outside the wall much at all, but there's a guy in the cupola on the top of the second floor with binoculars who's supposed to be keeping watch. Radio chatter makes us think it's a popular napping spot, though. The house is far enough out no one really goes near it unless they have business.”

Sonny looked around the table. “We've got less than twenty-four hours to get this right. Let's plan out a few things. See what works and what doesn't. It all goes out the window as soon as we drive down that road, but it's good to have plans. We'll take the Caddy, since even I can't fit four people in the Ferrari. I don't think Trudy and Mindy would appreciate riding on our laps all the way there.” He waited for the chuckles to die down. “There's a gate, so we'll have to stop and wait to be let in. They might frisk us, but it's hard to say. If Maynard's already made me he might let that slide so we come in thinking everything's cool.”

Tubbs nodded. “Yeah. Moncado and Pedrosa never patted us down. If they did it now it would look off. Maynard's a careful bastard. He wouldn't want to tip his hand, and he knows Sonny has good instincts.”

Sonny stared at the photograph. Thinking. Trying to put himself in Maynard's head. Or Burnett's. “I think he'll try to get us in one of the courtyards. Something open where all his men can see him take me down. It sends a better message that way. And he can prove his manhood, his strength, to them with a nice public display. Maynard's all about that.”

Castillo cleared his throat. “I agree. That's why overwatch is so important. I can get close to the wall without them knowing I'm there, and I only need a couple of seconds to get into the compound. Dave, Randy and I will all have radios. You four will not. It's a risk, but we don't have a choice.”

Sonny nodded. “That means we have to plan for what happens after the first shot. I'm guessing Dave will engage first because of the range, but in any case we need to know what we'll do when that first guy dies. We'll have a couple of seconds, because they won't be expecting it. We will. That's vital in this kind of a fight.” He looked around. “We'll only have pistols, so we need to stay close and in cover to hold any advantage. If they pin us down, we're screwed until the tactical team shows up. We also won't have unlimited ammo, so blazing away like a bad Chuck Norris movie won't help a bit. Pick your shots and make them count.”

Tubbs nodded. “I've got less range and firepower than the rest of you, but I have the advantage that Maynard might not want to kill me. He'll be after Sonny, so all his attention will be there.”

Mindy chewed on her lower lip. “We're cutting it close, aren't we?”

“We don't have a choice.” Sonny kept staring at the photo, trying to turn the two-dimensional image into a real world view in his head. “There's no good way to get more people into that compound. And if I take Dave and Randy in we lose the advantage they give us. So we go with what we have.”

Trudy smiled. “You know I qualified Expert last time on the range, Sonny.”

“I know you two can shoot. Don't get me wrong. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather take in there. It's just we can't bring Dave and Randy as well.”

“Take the rest of the day. Work on it. Sonny, see if you can get Moreno on the phone. He's supposed to be checking in. Make him earn his pay.” Castillo pushed back from the table. “I'll make some calls and coordinate with the Coast Guard and Navy. Take some of the load off Mindy.”

Once he left the room, Dave turned to Sonny. “Doesn't he need to be in on the plan?”

“You haven't seen Castillo work yet, have you?” Sonny gestured toward the closed office door. “The man's a ghost. They won't know he's there. Hell, we won't know he's there. Not until he wants us to know. I've never seen a man who's better in the woods than he is.”

“Good to know. So we don't need to worry about him?”

“Not a bit. But we do need to think about what happens when things get close.”

“We'll come to you.” Randy's voice was firm. “I'll have an M-14 like I said, and we can get one for Dave, too. Leave the bolt gun on the hill and come down to your position. That way we don't have to switch ammo and will be in the fight if you need us close-in.” He smiled. “I've got some medic training, too. Just in case.”

“Good to know.” Sonny grinned back. “Hopefully we won't need it.”

“I'll have the aid bag just in case. Being prepared ain't just for Boy Scouts, you know.”

“How do you want us paired off?” Trudy was also looking at the photo.

“Moncado's an old-school racist, right? Let's mess with his head. Trudy, you're with me and Mindy you back up Tubbs. Anything that gets him off his game even a little bit is cool with me.”

Mindy giggled. “I like it. Plus I'm from Boston so I can sound Yankee enough for Tubbs.”

“Solid.” Tubbs grinned. “I'll lay on the New York thick. If he asks, my associates sent you down to coordinate the details. That should really fry his pea-brain.”

“Trudy, you'll be one of Burnett's enforcers.” Sonny smiled. “Just lay on that Miami street act of yours and he won't know any better.”

“I like it. Better than being some high-end hooker any day.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon going over the blueprints and photo, ordering food in just before five. Sonny took a break to call Izzy, and came back shaking his head. “Cuba's gift to Miami says he hasn't heard anything new. There's still a freeze on weapons sales, and someone definitely told the Columbians to lay low. He's confirmed it from two different sources. Or so he says. But I think he's being straight with us. He sounded scared, and any time Moreno's scared he's telling the truth.”

“No one's trying to hire?”

“He says no. But Moncado might think he has enough guys. We counted at least ten at the buy, and they all looked to be Columbians.”

They ate in relative silence. The takeout Chinese was good, even though for Sonny it brought back memories of other briefings in the heat and smell of Da Nang. He suspected it did the same for Randy and Dave. The two snipers got quiet during the meal, looking from time to time at the documents and adding notes to their pads. Outside the sun slowly sank behind buildings, casting long shadows over streets baked hot from the day, and they kept working. The streetlights had kicked on at least an hour before when Sonny finally called a break.

“I think we've stared at this crap long enough,” he said, sighing and pushing back from the table. He could smell the remains of stir-fry coming from the white cardboard container in front of him even though the air was hazy from cigarette smoke. He and Dave both smoked, although Dave preferred Camels. “We got our loadouts picked for tomorrow?”

Trudy and Mindy both nodded. “We'll have our pistols and extra magazines in our purses,” Mindy announced after seeing Trudy nod. “Two mags each in addition to the loaded one. Maybe three depending on the size of the purses.”

“I'll have the old wheel gun. Too late to change now.”

Sonny looked to Dave and Randy, who just nodded. Then he said, “I'll have the two .45s. Three mags total for the 4506 but only one for the Detonics. It's a back-up, so I may not have to use it. I know it ain't great, but it's what we have.”

Castillo came out of his office. “Go home, everyone. Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow. The Coast Guard has been briefed, and the Navy agreed to keep an eye on the Keys for us from 1000 until about 1400. Then they have to pull the plane off station.”

“We should be done by then,” Crockett said, not adding the 'one way or another' that floated around in his head.

 

Stars danced like multi-colored diamonds scattered on a black velvet tabletop. Sonny Crockett sat in the stern of the St Vitus Dance, nursing a single shot of Jack Daniel's over ice and going back though everything that had happed in the last few weeks. Vellamo's spot was still empty, and part of him was glad. He wanted to be alone tonight, to take stock.

His promise to Gina still hung heavy, even though Stan was getting better every day. Tomorrow he'd have his chance to make good on his word, and he had no lingering doubt that he could. He was comfortable with the team, knowing the deputy marshals would more than hold up their end of things. Dave and Randy were scary good, and he had a good feeling about Mindy. She'd watch Tubbs' back, no question. And he'd keep Trudy safe or die trying. He owed Castillo that much. More, maybe.

It had been hard, letting go of his selfish side and trying to see the team first. Kicking the wide receiver ego to the side and falling back on his training as a Marine and learning all those lessons others had tried to teach him over the years. Most of all he remembered Evan's last words. “Now it's your turn, Sonny.” At the time he'd thought Evan was telling him it was his turn to catch a bullet, but now he understood. Evan had been telling him it was his turn to be a man. To get wisdom and learn from his mistakes. He'd thought about it before, but he'd also decided he needed to remember that talk every time a big operation came up.

Going below, he unlocked the small safe in the aft stateroom and took out the necklace with Caitlin's wedding ring. Fastening it around his neck, he went back up to watch the stars. Sonny wasn't much for pre-game rituals or superstitions, but he wanted Caitlin with him tomorrow. To see how it all ended, one way or the other. This time the only way Maynard was getting away was by stepping over Sonny Crockett's dead body.

 

The road to Moncado's estate in the Keys was well-maintained. Sonny had to give the man that. He sat in the back of the big Cadillac with Trudy, listening as Tubbs regaled Mindy with stories of his antics with Armed Robbery back in the Bronx. He could feel his own tension building into a knot in his stomach, knowing it would fade to nothing as soon as the estate gate came into view.

Randy, Dave, and Castillo had left hours before, each man camouflaged to blend into the terrain around the estate. The two snipers had their long guns and pistols, while Castillo strapped on his habitual Smith & Wesson Model 29 .44 Magnum and a long, wicked combat knife. “Good luck,” was all he said before they drove off into the rising dawn light, and Sonny sensed Trudy's worry.

“He'll be fine,” he said to her again in the car as they drove down the hardpacked dirt road. “I've never met a man more at home in this than Marty.”

“I know. I wouldn't have worried before. But now...”

“But now he's got even more reason to be good. And careful.” He patted her thigh gently. “Don't worry about him, Trudy. He'd want you to focus on the operation.”

Tubbs stopped in mid-story. “Heads up. I can see the gate and there's two guys waiting for us.”

“Showtime.” Sonny fought the urge to unsnap his pistol in the shoulder rig. There could be no sudden moves. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to tip Maynard off. It all had to look normal.

They had the top up because of the dust from the road, so Tubbs rolled down his window as the guards walked up. “Mr. Cooper. I'm expected.”

The guard looked in the car, then raised his hand radio and spoke quickly in Spanish. He looked again and spoke. “He say two, but you have four.”

Tubbs grinned. “It's a celebration, man. You think we'd come without dates?”

Mindy giggled and shifted, her top pulling tight. “Mr. Cooper brought me all the way down from New York for this. He's so sweet, isn't he?”

The guard looked confused and spoke into the radio again. He held it to his ear, eyes narrowing as he listened. “Is ok. You go ahead.” Turning, he made a circle over his head to the man at the gate. Nodding, he dragged the gate open and waved Tubbs forward.

Crockett had seen the pictures and the blueprints, but he hadn't been really ready for what they saw looming up out of a curtain of ornamental hedges and shrubs. The house, two stories plus the cupola over the wing with the bedrooms, looked like it had been lifted out of Mexico or Spain. Whitewashed walls with high, narrow windows dominated a sweeping staircase leading to dark oak double doors at the end of the front courtyard, and a walkway framed with more hedges led to the back courtyard. Palm trees marked the edges of the court, their fronds swaying in the ever-present breeze.

Tubbs parked where the inside guards indicated and shut off the big car. “Let's do this,” he muttered before he opened the door and climbed out into the heat. Mindy followed suit, her hair set off nicely by a light blue skintight dress Trudy had helped her pick. Sonny scrambled out of the back seat, putting on his sunglasses and buttoning the bottom button of his dark gray blazer. Trudy got out last, her legs highlighted by a pair of dark jeans and calf boots. Her top was loose, with a tight t-shirt underneath. 'My kick-ass look' was how she'd described it, and Sonny thought it was perfect.

Two men came down the shaded walkway. He recognized the bulk of Jorge, but the other man was taller and thinner, looking more like an officer in aviator sunglasses and a loose white silk shirt. It was the tall one who spoke. “Mr. Moncado awaits, gentlemen and ladies. Please follow me.”

“Nice digs he's got here.” Rico kept his voice light as he followed the two men. Sonny fell in after Mindy, trying to ignore the way she moved in the dress as well as the AK-47s slung over the backs of Moncado's two errand boys.

“It'll do,” Sonny replied, trying to get under Jorge's skin again.

The back courtyard was dominated by a fountain sending rainbows across the manicured lawn as sunlight caught the water droplets scattered by the breeze. The back porch was surrounded by what looked to be a marble railing supported by solid pillars and elevated about six feet above the lawn. A curving staircase led up, but Sonny could see a knot of men at tables set up near the fountain. One of them he recognized right away as Moncado. The others looked to be Columbians of the same kind as the punk in the aviator sunglasses. There was no sign of Maynard, but Sonny hadn't expected to see him this soon.

Moncado raised his arms and walked toward them. “Cooper! I trust your people were pleased with the product!”

“Very! That's why they sent the lovely Miranda down. She's part of our business team and will help set up the details for a longer-term arrangement.”

Moncado smiled, and Sonny could see him undressing Mindy with his eyes. “And Burnett. Who did you bring?”

“My head of security. Peaches.”

Trudy nodded. “But you can call me Miss Peaches. Last fool who tried otherwise is singing soprano now, if you get my meaning.”

Moncado looked at her for a long moment and then laughed. It was a loud thing, echoing off the back wall of the house and startling birds perched in the nearby palms. “I like your attitude, Miss Peaches. You have excellent taste in help, Burnett.”

“Thanks.” Sonny could sense the guards moving in, trying to break them into smaller groups. The little spiders were back and doing a jig up and down his spine. He gave Trudy a quick look and shifted so he stayed close to Rico and Mindy. If they managed to separate the team they'd lose their coordination.

Moncado laughed again and turned back to the tables. “Come! Let us celebrate this deal.” He was about to say something else when one of the guards hurried over and whispered something in his ear. His face changed for an instant, a cloud of anger washing over before it was replaced with the usual synthetic smile. “It seems one of my men has fallen asleep or something and isn't answering his radio. But no worries. Jorge will check it out. Won't you, Jorge?”

Jorge looked like he'd rather submit to a root canal without any painkillers, but nodded like an obedient dog and moved off through a hole in the hedge line, followed by the man with the radio. Sonny exchange a look with Trudy. Must be Castillo's work. We don't have much time.

Tubbs also sensed the change. “Your hospitality is much appreciated, Mr. Moncado.”

“Please, call me Tico. It is better to for friends to use first names, yes?”

Sonny was about to speak when a new voice entered the conversation and the blood froze in his veins. It was the same slightly nasal, conceited twang he remembered from those visits to Pleiku. And two encounters in Miami. “He has a point, doesn't he, Sonny? Or should I say Detective Crockett? Still on the powder patrol?”

William Maynard hadn't changed a bit since the last time Sonny had seen him, climbing onto a surplus C-47 carrying mercenaries bound for Nicaragua. The head was still shaved, the thick mustache still dyed an unnatural shade of black, and the arrogance still poured from the man like water from an artesian well. He stepped out on the back porch, flanked by two of Moncado's men with their AKs at the ready.

Moncado looked up, his face breaking into a genuine smile. “You were right, Colonel. They were foolish enough to come.”

“Don't try for that gun, Crockett. These two will drop you where you stand.” Maynard stood at the rail, resting his hands on the slick marble and trying to look down at them with authority. “That Cooper looks familiar as well, but that might just be because you all look the same.” He grinned, showing capped teeth.

Tubbs twisted his face into an expression of outrage. “Are you telling me Burnett's a cop?”

“He certainly is. One of Metro-Dade's finest, which isn't saying much.” Maynard chuckled. “You inconvenienced me last time we met, Sonny. But I did get to square things with that pest Stone. Never trust a junkie.”

Sonny tried to look downcast. “So kill me already and be done with it.”

“Oh, I will. But not just now.” He looked down at Moncado. “Have your men take them. All of them. We need to make sure this Cooper, if that's his real name, is clean. The girls...well...I understand your men need entertainment.”

Moncado nodded, raising his own radio. “Jorge, get back here. We need...” And then his head exploded in a spray of bone, blood, and brains, chased a second later by the boom of a big rifle.

Now! “Go!” Sonny shouted, drawing his 4506 in a blur of motion, his thumb pushing the safety up as the pistol cleared leather. Spinning, he took a solid two-hand grip and let the front sight settle on the nearest guard and squeezed the trigger, riding the recoil and squeezing again to be sure. The man spun away in a fan of blood, the two hollowpoints tearing holes the size of baseballs in his chest. Then Sonny was sprinting for one of the marble sides of the fountain.

Two more rifle shots crashed out, and two more guards spun away, confused looks on their faces and massive wounds in their chests. From the corner of his eye Sonny could see Trudy settling in next to him, and Mindy and Tubbs sprinting for the shelter of the corner of the porch. Mindy had kicked off her heels to move faster, and as Sonny watched she dropped two guards with well-placed shots from her .45. Then he had to duck as one of the guards on the porch remembered his AK, and the familiar crack-bark filled his ears and shards of marble rained down around his head and shoulders. The other guard knelt next to Maynard and started spraying the distant trees on full auto. More men looked to be coming out of the house, and he knew they were in danger of being pinned.

From somewhere behind them a heavy Magnum boomed twice, its bass bellow drowning out everything but the high-powered rifles used by Randy and Dave. Martin Castillo appeared as if by magic from the hedges, smoke trailing from the long barrel of his revolver. “The rear is clear,” he announced as if he'd just stepped out of his office.

Another burst shattered marble, reminding Sonny they were pinned. “Tubbs and Mindy are by the porch,” he shouted over the assault rifle's stuttering. “And we need to move. You two break for their location. I'll cover.” He waited for Trudy and Castillo to nod before counting down 3-2-1 on his fingers and then popping over the low wall, his 4506 in a solid two-hand grip.

Through the haze of powder smoke he could see four men gathered at the head of the staircase, one point down to where Tubbs and Mindy had taken cover. He squeezed off four rounds in their direction, smiling when he saw one fall clutching at his gut and the other three dive for cover. His last three rounds distracted the man by Maynard, although he couldn't see the man's shining bald head anywhere. That gave Trudy an opening to sprint to her new position. Then his slide locked back and he ducked back into cover, dumping the empty magazine and pulling a fresh one out of the pouch under his right arm. He hit the slide release, feeding a round into the chamber. Then he saw Castillo. “Why didn't you go?”

“We need to flank them.” His voice was flat, eyes without expression. Two more rifle shots boomed out from the hill, and sharp screams announced that someone had been hit by the accurate fire. “Dave and Randy should be moving any time now. I'll position to cover them. If we divide their attention, Maynard can't hit us with overwhelming numbers. The tactical team launched, but they're ten minutes out at best. We're on our own.”

Sonny nodded, knowing Castillo was right. “You want covering fire?”

“Yes. Same count.”

Nodding, Sonny raised three fingers. When he folded his index finger he reared up again, firing four times at the head of the stairs and another four at Maynard's old position. Then his slide locked back and he ducked, repeating the reloading process. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Last mag.” He could hear two .45s booming from by the stairs, and the higher-pitched snaps of Rico's .38. Then a .45 spoke in rapid succession and Trudy reappeared at his side.

“Where's Marty?”

“He wanted to flank them. To cover for Dave and Randy. They're moving down.” Sonny looked into her eyes, seeing the stress. “He didn't ask, Trudy. He just did.”

Over the barking of the AKs he heard Maynard's nasal voice. “Your long range men are dead, Sonny. I can keep throwing people at you all day long. And you don't have any backup. My people are watching the roads.” The voice echoed off the high walls of the house, so Sonny couldn't pin down a location. “Just come out and make this easy.”

“Fuck you, Maynard. You don't get this one easy.”

“Always difficult, aren't you, Crockett?”

Maynard rambled on, but Sonny tried to tune out his voice. Instead he turned to Trudy. “How's your ammo?”

She gave him a thin smile. “Last mag.”

“Same for me. And the Detonics. How are Rico and Mindy?”

“Low, but better than we are.”

“It'll take Dave and Randy a good five minutes to get here. Maybe more if they run into any resistance. I'm pretty sure Moncado had men along the wall, too.” He flinched as the AK opened up again, showering them with marble dust and chips.

“Where's Maynard?”

“I don't know. That damned echo...” He was about to go on when two shots boomed out from behind them. One was the heavy bass of Castillo's .44, the other the familiar blast of a .45.

Trudy looked, and her eyes went wide. “No!” Before Sonny could grab her she jumped up and sprinted down the gravel walkway to a body slumped in the shade of one of the tall hedges. Even at this distance Sonny could see a dark stain spreading from Martin Castillo's midsection.

Leaning around, Sonny emptied his last magazine down the path, still squeezing the trigger uselessly after the slide locked back. Everything seemed to slow down, passing in front of his eyes like a movie set at half-speed. Trudy reaching Castillo and cradling his head in her hands. The sound of the AK stopping, its echoes thundering in the sudden silence. Smoke trailing from the muzzle and chamber of his empty Smith & Wesson. And then Maynard stepped around the hedge.

“A nice try, Sonny. Really.” A custom .45 rested easy in his hand, the pearl grips catching the sunlight. He strode past Trudy, ignoring her sobs but stepping around the pool of Castillo's blood. “And that fool with his wheelgun. Really? That's an insult. And the women? Do you know what they say about a society that sends its women into battle? It's a sign of weakness. Of failure. And you've failed, Sonny.”

They had one chance. Sonny knew it instinctively. Maynard was there for him. All the shooting had stopped. Maybe because Tubbs and Mindy were out of ammo, but most likely because the guards wanted to watch Maynard on stage. Sonny had seen his effect on people before. But he also knew his team had a chance if he offered himself up. He stood, the empty pistol loose in his hand. Willing Tubbs and Mindy to run. Hoping Dave and Randy had the same sense. “Here we are, Maynard. Just you and me.”

“And your friends. But I don't care about them, Sonny.” He motioned behind him. “I just cut off the head. Without it...”

Sonny never heard what Maynard was going to claim next. He braced himself for the impact, watching the .45 come up. But the shot never came. Instead Maynard's face exploded outwards, destroyed by a hollowpoint fired at point-blank range. His body fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut, and Sonny saw Trudy standing behind him, the slide locked back on her Matchmaster. She looked down at the mangled body with unseeing eyes, the front of her shirt dark and soaked with Castillo's blood. “Bastard.” The single word hissed through her lips and then she turned back to Castillo.

The words came to Sonny's lips from somewhere deep in his memory. “Corpsman! Corpsman up!” He ran past the body, scooping up Maynard's .45 just in case. When he reached Trudy she was shaking, tears running down her cheeks as she cradled Castillo's head. Another flurry of shots came from the stairs, random AK blasts from men trying to gather their courage. And then Sonny heard the familiar boom of M-14s at close range. Dave came through the hedge with a roar, triggering off shot after shot at the now-panicked men in the stairs. Beside him was Randy, an aid bag in his hand. “Give me cover!” he shouted, passing his M-14 to Sonny.

Sonny Crockett brought the heavy rifle to his shoulder, hours at the Boot Camp rifle range swimming into tight focus in his mind. He looked through the peep sign, planted the front sight blade on a guard starting to charge down the stairs, and smashed him to the concrete with two 7.62mm bullets. Next to him Dave continued to shout like a man possessed, but every round he fired hit home with devastating impact. Sonny methodically sent round after round into the men clustered by the house's back door, not caring if they were trying to run, surrender, or charge. Then the bolt locked back and he realized he was squeezing the trigger on an empty weapon.

Dave came to the same understanding at the same moment. They looked at each other, and realized there was no return fire. Random moans echoed from the porch, and behind them he could still hear Trudy sobbing.

It took Tubbs to sum it up. He helped Mindy stand, her ankle twisted when she kicked off her heels to run. He looked around, seeing blood running off the porch and staining the once-white stairs red. In the distance the familiar whump of rotors announced the arrival of the tactical team. Then he whistled. “Damn!” One word, nothing more. The smell of gunpowder and death hung heavy in the humid air.

 

Randy looked into the hospital room and shook his head. “That's one tough son of a bitch,” he whispered in admiration. “I've seen wounds like that kill more men than I care to remember.”

Trudy looked up, her eyes still red. “I want to thank you for saving his life, Randy.”

The deputy blushed. “All in a day's work. Actually, you should thank Sonny. We were movin' all careful until he shouted for a corpsman.”

Dave nodded his agreement. “Soon's he said that, we went into high gear. I think I kinda lost it, too. Hearin' a buddy's hurt and needs help always brings that out in me.”

Sonny leaned against the wall, doing his best to stay out of the conversation. “I don't know why I yelled that,” he admitted. “It just came out.”

“Old habits and training.” Dave grinned. “Just like when you got the M-14.”

Tubbs looked at Mindy. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt now, her ankle tightly wrapped. “And you saved my ass with that .45 of yours. I thought they had me at the stairs.”

She smiled. “Part of that was Sonny. He used all his ammo covering us.”

Trudy looked over at him. “Why did you stand up like that, Sonny?”

It was the question he'd hoped to avoid. But there was no helping it now. “Maynard wanted me. Not any of you. I figured if I gave him that, it would buy time for you to escape.”

“That's suicide, partner.”

“No. I did what I thought needed to be done at the time.” He smiled. “But Maynard forgot about Trudy.”

“I...I never expected to do that.”

“We never do. Not until someone we love is in danger.” Or dead. Fucking Hackman. At least Trudy's love is still alive. And we don't have to waste money on a trial for that son of a bitch. Turning, Sonny spotted a passing doctor. “Doc? How long before we can talk to him?”

“At least a day. He lost a lot of blood, but thanks to your friend there he's stable.” The man looked down at his clipboard. “The bullet missed most of his major organs, but he still suffered serious trauma.”

“Thanks.” Sonny waited until the man continued on his rounds. “Trudy, you stay with Marty just in case. I know he'd want to see your face when he wakes up. The rest of you, get some rest. You sure as hell earned it. I'll check on Stan and Lester and get started on the reports.”

“Sonny? Do you think they'll leave the task force together?”

Mindy smiled. “I can answer that. I called the chief deputy before I came down here. We're still a task force, but they're giving us leave until the others are healthy. He was pleased as hell with how this turned out, and thinks he's got a couple more operations for us as soon as we're ready.”

Tubbs looked at Sonny. “Let's check on those knuckleheads together, partner, and then we're going to Casa Cooper. Paperwork can wait.”

 

Sonny sank back on the leather sofa with a sigh, holding the glass of ice and Jack Daniel's to his forehead. “That was one hell of a day.”

“You can say that again.” Rico grinned. “If we keep up like this I might have to rethink the whole revolver thing.” He sipped his scotch and looked out the patio door.

“Just ask whatever you want to ask, Rico. I've know you long enough to know something's on your mind.”

“Were you really going to let Maynard kill you, Sonny.”

“Hell. I don't know. And that's an honest answer, Rico. He'd just shot Marty, and I knew if I was out of ammo you and Mindy would be close. I...I was just trying to buy time is all.” It was a half truth, and he knew Rico would know that.

“Nothing else?”

“Hell, Rico. I don't know. What matters to me is the team. You, Trudy, Mindy, Marty, all of them. I know before I always thought about me first. Look what that cost. I couldn't see any other way out. If I stayed down he could have finished Marty off, killed Trudy, and then done who knows what. But I had to do something to give the rest of you a chance.”

“I get it. Just warn me next time, partner.”

“I will, Rico. I promise.” They raised their glasses to each other and drank. Sonny could feel the bourbon calming his nerves, settling his soul into its normal position. “Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and Jenny will be back.”

“This time find out if she has a sister. A cousin. Hell, any friends even.”

Sonny laughed. “I'll do that, partner.” The laugh felt good, as did the the knowledge Maynard and Moncado were both dead. Without pulling the trigger on either of them he'd squared things. It was a start, at least. And these days he couldn't ask for much more.

[vicegirl85]

What a satisfying ending!

I have to admit I raced through and haven't read every chapter yet, but I really admired how you kept each character true to him(or her) self, and how the action never came out of nowhere.  Great job and I do hope you'll write more (especially with the hints about Tubbs thinking about his son!) 

[mjcmmv]

The ending was terrific!! I'm reading it again!

[mjcmmv]

You did such a great job. I am so impressed and can't wait to see what else you have in store for us.

Thank you, Robbie. You've helped keep Miami Vice alive!!!

Edited June 30, 2019 by mjcmmv

[Robbie C.]

I'm just glad folks enjoyed it. For those who keep score, "The More Things Change..." tops out at a bit over 116,000 words. I'd originally aimed for a short story, then a novella, and then it just grew on its own.

[mjcmmv]

1 minute ago, Robbie C. said:

I'm just glad folks enjoyed it. For those who keep score, "The More Things Change..." tops out at a bit over 116,000 words. I'd originally aimed for a short story, then a novella, and then it just grew on its own.

Good!

[Robbie C.]

2 hours ago, vicegirl85 said:

What a satisfying ending!

I have to admit I raced through and haven't read every chapter yet, but I really admired how you kept each character true to him(or her) self, and how the action never came out of nowhere.  Great job and I do hope you'll write more (especially with the hints about Tubbs thinking about his son!) 

There's all kinds of directions I could take. I intentionally left some things open-ended in case I decide to chronicle the Task Force again.

[Kladdagh]

Thanks for the ride @Robbie C. ... I REALLY enjoyed !!! ... 

Congratulations Pal ... 

[Robbie C.]

Might be more to come.