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"Bringing Down Rodriguez"
a crime caper
by Jake Kilroy
AN EXCERPT:
Kisbee kicked the front door down. Shots greeted them immediately. The brick tapped and cracked as the bullets pelted off the wall with a roar down the hallway. There were more of them than he had initially expected.
He waited for his team to come in through the windows. Kisbee rubbed his eyes. There was smoke everywhere now. Shots were no longer flying by his ear. Instead, they were being fired in all directions inside the loft. There was much more yelling now. He could hear the voices of Ryan, Atterman, Cruz and Nick. They were shouting orders.
The smoked thinned and the count of gunshots slowed down to nothing.
"It's all right, Captain!" Ryan yelled.
Kisbee pushed off his knees and entered the loft. His boots echoed down the hall.
"This all of them?" Kisbee said, looking around at the ten men rolling around in handcuffs.
"Well, of this outfit, yes. There's still Watterton Street and Coosly Drive, sir," Cruz said.
"How many men do we have here after departure?" Kisbee asked, still looking at the men on the floor.
"Well, once we load these guys up into the vans, we'll have 23 men ready to go from here," Cruz said.
"Then get these men-" Kisbee paused as he caught sight of a figure taking a ladder up to the roof in the distance. "Rodriguez!"
Kisbee was out the window and onto the lower roof before his men knew his sentence had ended. He was surprisingly agile in his old age, though he wouldn't admit the latter. Rodriguez was near the top of his ladder, squiting back at Kisbee gaining.
Rodriguez was a fast runner, but his anxiety gets the best of his decisions, Kisbee remembered. Rodriguez was out of sight, two or three stories above Kisbee, who was now at the ladder, already up a few steps when starting.
Kisbee reached the top and popped his head, making sure he wouldn't lose it in a gunfight.
"Rodriguez is unarmed!" Atterman yelled from the bottom, following Kisbee in pursuit, though much farther back.
Kisbee's sour face opened with a grin as he started the uneasy process of jumping rooftop to rooftop, his coat flapping loudly over the alleys several stories below. He watched Rodriguez do the same in the distance.
Every chimney was an obstacle, every jump was a free fall, every rooftop was a slide. But Kisbee moved like a cat, light and quick. Dashing instead of running, lunging instead of jumping, all while using his hands as feet and vice versa. He had never been so balanced.
Rodriguez was slipping. He was showing signs of panic. At least from a rooftop behind, he did.
Kisbee was almost laughing. He felt delusional. He would catch up to Rodriguez and all of this would be over. Finally. He would be able to sleep in for once. The last four months had been blistering to his ego. But no more. Not after today, Kisbee kept thinking. In every jump, he felt he was closer to closing the case. His body ached from a lack of sleep, but his soul was in flames every morning. Today was like therapy.
Rodriguez dodged to the left, prancing between chimneys and rooftop blocks. He was heading up another ladder. The building was mostly isolated, a bad move by Rodriguez because of his notorious panic.
Kisbee laughed an arrogant "ha" before making a final leap to the last rooftop before the ladder. A staircase lead down to the street. Why had Rodriguez not taken it?
Finally at the top of the ladder, Kisbee peaked his head over the final rung to see Rodriguez standing across the rooftop with a sly smile, hands and arms separated.
"You're faster than I thought you were, Harold," Rodriguez yelled, still with a grin.
Kisbee stepped onto the roof and stopped.
"I'm faster than most criminals. You're no different," Kisbee yelled back.
"How so?"
"They don't get away. You don't get away."
"Oh, but I am, you lofty gentleman! Unless you shoot me of course. But alas, you need me alive and I know this."
"How do you know that? Who says I can't just shoot you right now and watch you fall to your death? Watch you sleep there for the night as the rats feed upon you before we pick your body up tomorrow."
"My goodness, that is sick. Especially for what I haven't really done. But to answer your question, I know because my spy told me."
Kisbee felt cold. Could one of his own men really be a spy? The thought iced his body and scratched at his nerves.
"I call bullshit."
"You can call it whatever you want, but at the end of the day, I'll have the information I shouldn't. And you'll be the good cop that couldn't."
"You're going to jail."
"For what?" Rodriguez asked playfully.
"For what? For a long time! For the stealing, the murders! For everything!"
"Oh, I thought it would've slipped out by now. But, well, how do I put this? Ah yes. There were no murders. They were all faked."
"No murders? What are you talking about?"
"They were fake. You had everything to prove them real. But you're going to look pretty stupid for a detective bringing me in on the wrong charges. I don't care how much of a rock star everyone thinks you are, but I'm going to look good. Sure, I've done some stealing. My, how I've done some stealing, but I doubt you could swing an ax on me for it."
"I'll make sure it happens, so help me," Kisbee said with a grit of his teeth.
"How, dear sir, are you to do that?"
"With any luck, I won't have to to tell you. I'll just show you instead."
"Why, my good man, are you ever so lucky?" Rodriguez yelled.
"Just am. You, not so much."
"Me? Really? If I'm so unlucky and no different than any of your other petty criminals, why then, Harold, are you standing all the way across from me on this roof?"
"Because you're unarmed, not shooting and not trying to escape. I figure there's a booty trap between us."
"No, no, no, no, no. I'm not The Joker. I'm actually just waiting for my ride."
Kisbee felt worse. Rodriguez knew something he didn't. Rodriguez wasn't trapped. And there probably was no trap.
"What ride?"
A stealth helicopter appeared at great speed.
"Wow! I didn't know perfect timing could happen like that except for the movies! Did you?"
"No!" Kisbee screamed. His faced ached from anxiety, fear, anger and frustration. "Not this time! Goddammit, no!"
Kisbee sprinted towards Rodriguez. A rope appeared and Rodriguez grabbed on. Kisbee made a final lunge.
"See you around, lucky man!" Rodriguez said with a wave, as he floated over rooftops.
Kisbee cried furiously out of frustration, while Rodriguez and his laughter disappeared into the late afternoon sky.
a crime caper
by Jake Kilroy
AN EXCERPT:
Kisbee kicked the front door down. Shots greeted them immediately. The brick tapped and cracked as the bullets pelted off the wall with a roar down the hallway. There were more of them than he had initially expected.
He waited for his team to come in through the windows. Kisbee rubbed his eyes. There was smoke everywhere now. Shots were no longer flying by his ear. Instead, they were being fired in all directions inside the loft. There was much more yelling now. He could hear the voices of Ryan, Atterman, Cruz and Nick. They were shouting orders.
The smoked thinned and the count of gunshots slowed down to nothing.
"It's all right, Captain!" Ryan yelled.
Kisbee pushed off his knees and entered the loft. His boots echoed down the hall.
"This all of them?" Kisbee said, looking around at the ten men rolling around in handcuffs.
"Well, of this outfit, yes. There's still Watterton Street and Coosly Drive, sir," Cruz said.
"How many men do we have here after departure?" Kisbee asked, still looking at the men on the floor.
"Well, once we load these guys up into the vans, we'll have 23 men ready to go from here," Cruz said.
"Then get these men-" Kisbee paused as he caught sight of a figure taking a ladder up to the roof in the distance. "Rodriguez!"
Kisbee was out the window and onto the lower roof before his men knew his sentence had ended. He was surprisingly agile in his old age, though he wouldn't admit the latter. Rodriguez was near the top of his ladder, squiting back at Kisbee gaining.
Rodriguez was a fast runner, but his anxiety gets the best of his decisions, Kisbee remembered. Rodriguez was out of sight, two or three stories above Kisbee, who was now at the ladder, already up a few steps when starting.
Kisbee reached the top and popped his head, making sure he wouldn't lose it in a gunfight.
"Rodriguez is unarmed!" Atterman yelled from the bottom, following Kisbee in pursuit, though much farther back.
Kisbee's sour face opened with a grin as he started the uneasy process of jumping rooftop to rooftop, his coat flapping loudly over the alleys several stories below. He watched Rodriguez do the same in the distance.
Every chimney was an obstacle, every jump was a free fall, every rooftop was a slide. But Kisbee moved like a cat, light and quick. Dashing instead of running, lunging instead of jumping, all while using his hands as feet and vice versa. He had never been so balanced.
Rodriguez was slipping. He was showing signs of panic. At least from a rooftop behind, he did.
Kisbee was almost laughing. He felt delusional. He would catch up to Rodriguez and all of this would be over. Finally. He would be able to sleep in for once. The last four months had been blistering to his ego. But no more. Not after today, Kisbee kept thinking. In every jump, he felt he was closer to closing the case. His body ached from a lack of sleep, but his soul was in flames every morning. Today was like therapy.
Rodriguez dodged to the left, prancing between chimneys and rooftop blocks. He was heading up another ladder. The building was mostly isolated, a bad move by Rodriguez because of his notorious panic.
Kisbee laughed an arrogant "ha" before making a final leap to the last rooftop before the ladder. A staircase lead down to the street. Why had Rodriguez not taken it?
Finally at the top of the ladder, Kisbee peaked his head over the final rung to see Rodriguez standing across the rooftop with a sly smile, hands and arms separated.
"You're faster than I thought you were, Harold," Rodriguez yelled, still with a grin.
Kisbee stepped onto the roof and stopped.
"I'm faster than most criminals. You're no different," Kisbee yelled back.
"How so?"
"They don't get away. You don't get away."
"Oh, but I am, you lofty gentleman! Unless you shoot me of course. But alas, you need me alive and I know this."
"How do you know that? Who says I can't just shoot you right now and watch you fall to your death? Watch you sleep there for the night as the rats feed upon you before we pick your body up tomorrow."
"My goodness, that is sick. Especially for what I haven't really done. But to answer your question, I know because my spy told me."
Kisbee felt cold. Could one of his own men really be a spy? The thought iced his body and scratched at his nerves.
"I call bullshit."
"You can call it whatever you want, but at the end of the day, I'll have the information I shouldn't. And you'll be the good cop that couldn't."
"You're going to jail."
"For what?" Rodriguez asked playfully.
"For what? For a long time! For the stealing, the murders! For everything!"
"Oh, I thought it would've slipped out by now. But, well, how do I put this? Ah yes. There were no murders. They were all faked."
"No murders? What are you talking about?"
"They were fake. You had everything to prove them real. But you're going to look pretty stupid for a detective bringing me in on the wrong charges. I don't care how much of a rock star everyone thinks you are, but I'm going to look good. Sure, I've done some stealing. My, how I've done some stealing, but I doubt you could swing an ax on me for it."
"I'll make sure it happens, so help me," Kisbee said with a grit of his teeth.
"How, dear sir, are you to do that?"
"With any luck, I won't have to to tell you. I'll just show you instead."
"Why, my good man, are you ever so lucky?" Rodriguez yelled.
"Just am. You, not so much."
"Me? Really? If I'm so unlucky and no different than any of your other petty criminals, why then, Harold, are you standing all the way across from me on this roof?"
"Because you're unarmed, not shooting and not trying to escape. I figure there's a booty trap between us."
"No, no, no, no, no. I'm not The Joker. I'm actually just waiting for my ride."
Kisbee felt worse. Rodriguez knew something he didn't. Rodriguez wasn't trapped. And there probably was no trap.
"What ride?"
A stealth helicopter appeared at great speed.
"Wow! I didn't know perfect timing could happen like that except for the movies! Did you?"
"No!" Kisbee screamed. His faced ached from anxiety, fear, anger and frustration. "Not this time! Goddammit, no!"
Kisbee sprinted towards Rodriguez. A rope appeared and Rodriguez grabbed on. Kisbee made a final lunge.
"See you around, lucky man!" Rodriguez said with a wave, as he floated over rooftops.
Kisbee cried furiously out of frustration, while Rodriguez and his laughter disappeared into the late afternoon sky.
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