Dead Line Read online

  “You want to talk about what happened?” Cal asked.

  Gio gazed out the window.

  “I understand if you don’t. I just thought you might want to.”

  Finally, Gio said something, his voice quivering. “What do you want to know?”

  Cal paused. “What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “Did they try to scare you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you think they were going to kill you?”

  Gio nodded.

  “How old are you? Twelve?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “No thirteen-year-old boy should have to go through what you just went through.”

  Then Gio began sobbing, heaving as he let loose his suppressed emotions.

  “It’s OK, Gio. You’re OK now.”

  Gio continued crying for another minute before he regained his composure.

  “I think what you did today was very brave. Who knows what might have happened had that man stabbed me with a knife.”

  Gio nodded.

  “Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

  “I visit my cousins every summer in Colombia—and you need to know how to defend yourself there. My dad taught me how to shoot a gun. I never thought I would have to shoot another person.”

  Gio then buried his head in his hands. Occasional sniffles broke the otherwise thick silence in the car.

  Cal took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t like the idea of being a vigilante and getting his own justice, but in a way he was relieved. He knew Hernandez would’ve likely hunted him his whole life. But not now. Almost the entire cartel had been wiped out earlier in the day, but it was a 13-year-old kid who unwittingly cut the head off the snake.

  As he stared at the fragile boy sharing the backseat with him, Cal wondered what effect this experience would have on Gio. Would it harden him? Send him into a depression? Hopefully, he would recover from this event in his life and be a better person for it. Cal could only hope for the best.

  In the distance, Cal saw the lights glowing from the stadium. It seemed like he was re-entering some alternate reality after being entrenched in the real world—a hard world—for the past few days.

  Cal’s team had escaped with a Super Bowl victory, but Cal had escaped with something much more important. He had escaped with his life, a fact that helped him put everything back into perspective.

  The car came to a stop and the agent opened the door for the boy. Cal got out and joined them as they all rushed through security and a sea of jubilant Seahawks fans and depressed Dolphin fans exiting the stadium en masse.

  A few pieces of confetti trickled from the upper reaches of the stadium toward the field as Cal walked through the tunnel with Gio. Apparently, no one had notified Gomez of the events over the past hour. Several Seattle players had yet to walk off the field, hoping to hold onto the moment just a little bit longer. But not Gomez. He sat on the end of a bench with his head buried in his hands. His helmet rested between his feet on the ground as he shook and sobbed. Almost anyone else taking in this scene would have assumed they were tears of joy.

  When Gio realized his father was crying, his brisk walking pace turned into a full sprint.

  “Daaaad!” he yelled.

  Gomez looked up, mouth agape. A grin then spread across his face as he ran toward Gio before embracing him. More tears from Gomez. Then Gio broke too. Their hug seemed to last for over a minute, their voices breaking as they shared their joy.

  Cal took it all in from 30 yards away, folding his arms and watching with satisfaction. This beats the winning moment of the Super Bowl. And not a soul was watching them but Cal. He knew he would never know what the Gomez family had been through, but Cal did know what it was like to almost lose someone you care about.

  * * *

  IN THE TUNNEL BENEATH THE STADIUM, reporters crowded around the 30-plus podiums set up for the players to answer questions. A few of the podiums were larger than others with more space for journalists to gather. Noah Larson stood behind one of those podiums.

  “How does it feel to finally get the stigma off your back of being one of the league’s best quarterbacks without a Super Bowl title?” asked one of the reporters.

  “Well, I know you guys all talk about that stuff, but even if we had lost tonight, it wouldn’t have changed how I felt about my career. I’ve worked hard and did my best every time I stepped on the field. And that’s not always good enough. There are plenty of guys in this league who work hard but never win a Super Bowl. That shouldn’t change how they are viewed. It’s hard to get here once, let alone twice.”

  “Was that fake field goal called by the coaches?” another reporter asked.

  “Absolutely not.” Noah laughed. So did the reporters. But Noah knew it wouldn’t have been a laughing matter if he didn’t score on the play.

  “So, what possessed you to take off with the ball like that?” another reporter asked.

  “To be honest, I love Gomez. He’s done a great job all year long for us and if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have won a few close games. But I just had a feeling and I went with it. It’s a play we practice, but one that was never called. Fortunately it worked out for us tonight.”

  “Did any of the coaches say anything to you after that?”

  “Yeah, something like, ‘We’re Super Bowl champions!’”

  More laughs erupted from the reporters.

  “Earlier you said if you lost it wouldn’t have changed how you felt about your career, speaking in the past tense. Are you considering retirement?” one of the reporters questioned.

  “Well, I didn’t want to steal any thunder from our team tonight by announcing this, but yes. That was my last game. I promised my wife before the game, so that was it either way.”

  Noah stared into the blinding camera lights. Photographers’ cameras began flashing. He could feel the pool of reporters swelling as a buzz hummed around the open area near his podium. Noah sipped his bottled water and waited in silence for the next question.

  “Why now?” one of the reporters asked. “You just had one of the best seasons of your career and you just won the Super Bowl. Don’t you feel like you could keep doing this for a few more years?”

  “Sure, I could. But it’s a few more years I would miss out on getting to be there for my family. Look, I’ve had to work hard to get where I am, and it’s only going to require a greater commitment as I get older. But I love my family more than anything in the world, including football. And quite frankly, I’d rather spend my time with them moving forward than studying film.”

  Noah looked off to the side of the podium and saw Jake with Ellen. He motioned for Jake to join him. Without hesitating, Jake scampered over to his dad and plopped into his lap. Suddenly, a new flurry of flashes exploded in the room.

  “You don’t think you’ll reconsider retirement?” one reporter asked.

  “Absolutely not. I gave my wife my word—and you don’t know my wife.” Noah’s remark drew some chuckles. Then he continued. “I love Seattle and the fans here have been great. And tonight was what the past ten years have been about, getting to this point. But this franchise has some great young talent and it’s time for me to get out of the way and let somebody else have the spotlight.”

  An NFL media relations personnel announced that there would be no more questions for Noah. He walked toward Ellen and gave her a big hug.

  “Convinced this is it?” he asked.

  “Well, you’ve convinced me,” she said, smiling. “Do you think you even have a chance of backing out now?”

  “I wouldn’t think about it—besides, I meant every word I said up there.”

  Ellen hugged him again.

  An NFL employee then tapped Noah on the shoulder. “Mr. Larson, a Cal Murphy said he needed to speak with you. Is it OK if you speak with him?”

  “Sure,” Noah said, spinning around and seeing Cal.

 
; Cal approached the Larsons.

  “Cal, how can I ever thank you enough for what you did?” Noah asked.

  “Well, an exclusive would be nice,” Cal said, smiling.

  “Anything you want.”

  “Seriously, I’m glad I could help. I would hope someone else would do that for me one day if necessary.” Cal looked down and rubbed Jake on the head.

  “I just can’t thank you enough.”

  “Well, I’ll call you tomorrow and get your side of the story for this article. But before I go and let you get back with your family here, I need to tell you that Hernandez wasn’t really behind all this.”

  “No? Who was?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I know there was someone else.”

  “Well, are we safe?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to talk to somebody with the FBI about that. But be careful, OK?”

  Noah nodded. He shook Cal’s hand and turned toward Ellen and Jake, pulling them in tightly.

  CHAPTER 49

  CAL WALKED BACK TOWARD THE MEDIA TENT and called Kelly.

  “Are you still here?” Cal asked as she answered.

  “You made it?”

  “Not until it was over, but I’m here now.”

  “Wasn’t that amazing?! I still can’t believe it!”

  “I know. Absolutely incredible. I’ll have to tell you the rest of the story some time.”

  “OK. It’ll have to be tomorrow. I’m sure you have work to do and I’ve got a party to go to.”

  Cal was silent.

  “Cal, are you OK? You’re acting a little funny.”

  “Well, it’s just that I miss you. I can’t thank you enough for what you did in Mexico. I think I’d be dead. And you? You saved a little boy’s life.”

  “I’m no hero, Cal. I just did what needed to be done.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t help but think how things could have gone differently—and gone really wrong.”

  “Yeah, let’s not talk about that, OK? They didn’t, so we’re good. All right?”

  “It’s just that I wouldn’t ever want anything to happen to you, Kelly.”

  “Are you getting all soft on me, Cal Murphy?”

  Cal took a deep breath. “I just really care about you.”

  “I know you do. I care about you, too. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Me too.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tuesday at noon. It was the earliest flight out of here I could get.”

  “Same here.”

  “Want to meet me for breakfast on Tuesday?”

  “Sure. I’ll call you and we can make plans.”

  “Sounds great. Take care.”

  Cal hung up. He immediately began to regret his failing courage. He wanted to tell Kelly how he really felt, that he saw their relationship as more than just friends. But he couldn’t. And he couldn’t figure out why either.

  * * *

  CAL ARRIVED AT THE MEDIA TENT and scanned the area for Josh. He spotted him in the far corner, pecking away on his keyboard. He walked up to Josh, out of his line of sight.

  “What are you writing about, rookie?” Cal asked close to Josh’s ear.

  Josh turned around, startled.

  “I’m writing a sidebar on the fake field goal. How are you? I see you made it back in one piece. What’d the other guy look like?”

  Cal just now realized that his appearance was disheveled, not to mention his face held several visible cuts and bruises. “You don’t want to know. But I’m here and all accounted for.”

  “That’s good. How did your little assignment with the FBI go? I’m assuming that’s where you got your little scratches from.”

  Cal smiled. “It ended well.”

  “That’s good.” Josh pounded away on his laptop for a few more seconds before speaking again. “By the way, were you trying to reach me near the end of the game? What was so important that you couldn’t wait?”

  “Why didn’t you pick up?”

  “I was down on the field and had my phone in my pocket. It was deafening down there. I guess I didn’t hear it ring. What did you want?”

  “Oh, nothing now. It all worked out.”

  “Good. Well, let’s talk later after I’m off of deadline, OK?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Just then Cal’s phone rang.

  It was Agent Anderson.

  CHAPTER 50

  “JARRETT! HOW ARE YOU?” Cal asked as he answered his phone.

  “Fine. And you?”

  “Wonderful. I’m alive.”

  “That’s good news. Well, since you helped us out, you get some privileged information first. We found out there was someone else behind everything.”

  “No kidding?”

  Cal was half joking, half playing coy. He wanted Anderson to feel like he was giving him some information that nobody knew but him. A person feels more comfortable about sharing juicy details if he thinks he’s the only one who knows them. It was a little interviewing trick he learned that always helped him get those extra details that nobody else could get.

  “Nope. And I wish I was, too. This is pretty unbelievable.”

  “Oh? Who was it? Would I know the person?”

  “Probably not, but you’d know his son. A guy by the name of Trent Newton. His son Hunter plays quarterback for the Dolphins. Ever heard of him?”

  “Hunter Newton’s dad? No way! You’ve got to be kidding me! How did you discover this?”

  “Well, it’s crazy, but one of the casino’s security detail had been watching this guy for the past few days. He plunked down 100Gs on the Dolphins to win. Nobody knew who he was at first because he checked in under an alias and was wearing a disguise.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, one of the security guys eventually recognized him but they didn’t say anything to him. Then when Seattle scored at the end, he went crazy. He started destroying some of the Oasis’ black jack tables with a cane. It was crazy.”

  “So, then what happened?”

  “Well, after their security team apprehended him and ushered him off the floor, we entered the scene and are dealing with him now.”

  “Did he happen to make any calls after the game?”

  “As a matter of fact, he did. According to the phone records stored on his phone, it didn’t look like anybody answered—and supposedly that’s when he went crazy.”

  “OK, thanks so much. Can I print this?”

  “Sure, just call me tomorrow to confirm and make sure that everything I said is able to be released to the public.”

  “You got it.”

  * * *

  CAL HAILED A CAB and headed back to his hotel. He had a story to write, one that made the articles being pounded out on deadline by a tent full of serious reporters seem like the Sunday comics in comparison. They wrote about a game; he was going to write about the biggest scandal in sports history since Shoeless Joe and the White Sox threw the 1919 World Series.

  He texted Solterbeck.

  Have you talked to the office in Vegas? Check Hernandez’s phone for the last call. See if it was from Trent Newton. Talk in the morning?

  Cal waited a few seconds for Solterbeck’s reply.

  Thanks for the tip. Will look into it. I’ll call you at 10 am.

  Cal clicked his phone off and slumped into the back seat of the cab. He needed some rest.

  CHAPTER 51

  CAL WANTED TO GO TO SLEEP. It was nearly midnight by the time he reached his room and the morning would come early. But he couldn’t go to sleep. Not with all the plotlines for the story he would write pinging around in his mind.

  One father was willing to give up his dream—his legacy—for his son’s life. Another father was intent on kidnapping an innocent child to ensure his son would be hailed as a hero. Cal knew this Super Bowl would forever be remembered by what he would write the next morning, not for the dramatic ending.

  But this was the ending Cal wanted to write abou
t, the one where good overcame evil. It was the one where the reckless actions of many were negated by the good actions of a few.

  When Cal pondered all the facts of the story—especially the latest one, that Newton’s dad directed the Mexican cartel to ensure his son would win the Super Bowl by means of kidnapping family members of the opposing teams’ key players—the words of the Juarez priest stuck with him:

  We, who question, have no way of knowing the full story.

  Cal knew the full story wasn’t written. Who knew how this horrific event might change the course of these families’ lives? Maybe it would even be for the best. Maybe not. But this chapter was written. Done. Finished. And evil didn’t win. Justice did. Two kids slept at home with their dads tonight, right where they should be. Cal didn’t know the full story. Nobody did. But this piece of it was a satisfying one. It was a good thought to drift asleep to.

  CHAPTER 52

  THE NEXT MORNING, Cal awoke an hour before Solterbeck was scheduled to call him. He showered and shaved before going downstairs to eat breakfast. Over a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, Cal read the Houston Chronicle’s rendition of the fantastic finish to the Super Bowl. The paper’s columnist hailed the play as one of the greatest in Super Bowl history and called Noah Larson the gutsiest quarterback in the NFL. Cal smiled as he read the praise heaped upon Seattle’s quarterback. The man deserved every word of it.

  He returned upstairs to get his computer ready for his interview with Solterbeck.

  At 10 a.m. sharp, Solterbeck called Cal.

  “You doing all right?” Solterbeck asked.

  “All things considered, I guess I am.”

  “Good. Thanks for your tip last night. You were right. Trent Newton called Hernandez right after the game. That was all we needed to make the link. He’ll be going away for a long time. We’ve charged him with extortion, kidnapping, and accessory to murder.”

  “Wow. I can’t believe this.”