84, Disappear

“You’ve poured more fire water down your cock holster tonight than a sorority girl at a frat party with daddy issues.”  Special agent Trent Murdock tried like hell to get a laugh out of his best friend, Dale O’Connor, but his insult went unappreciated.  

“Fill my cock holster,” O’Connor drunkenly said as he raised his drink without emotion, acknowledging that it was indeed funny but he didn’t have the spiritual energy to laugh.  O’Connor always pounded booze heavily compared to mere mortals, but tonight, it was like he was on a suicide mission to drink himself to death.  

Murdock changed his approach.  “What gives, buddy?”

Without making eye contact, Murdock’s best friend replied, “Lex asked me about Harvey.”  Dale O’Connor showed no emotion in his face, but Murdock knew that O’Connor was a hurricane inside.  

“Fuck,” Murdock muttered to himself.  “Dammit, Lex.”

Special agent Alexi Blacktide and demolitions expert Dale O’Connor had been dating seriously for two months and Murdock could see how happy O’Connor had become.  It was the happiest Murdock had seen his friend in two decades.  Now, twenty years of hurt was crushing O’Connor and it was all Murdock’s fault.

He knew that O’Connor was eternally heart broken over the loss of his childhood hedgehog, Harvey.  O’Connor blamed himself for the rodent getting loose when a falcon swooped down and snatched it.  The falcon was owned by a notorious mobster whom O’Connor had been warned to stay clear of, but the traumatic event had instantly changed the ten year old young boy from a snot nosed pussy into an instant fearless fighter.  To get retribution, ten year old Dale O’Connor had calmly stolen a fuel tanker that same day and crashed it into the mobster’s house which set it ablaze, murdering the mobster and his fellow thugs inside.

Ever since that traumatic moment at the age of ten, O’Connor had felt no empathy or remorse when he killed bad men, and he’d been drinking heavily for the past two decades to numb the pain of Harvey’s death.

Now, Murdock watched his twenty nine year old best friend stare straight forward and take another huge drink from his whiskey on ice.

“Brother,” Murdock muttered, but he couldn’t finish his sentence.  He knew he was to blame for O’Connor going on this bender.  He was the one who’d said the name Harvey to Blacktide, and he instantly felt regret.  “It’s my fault,” Murdock admitted.

A warm December Mexican breeze blew through the backyard patio of Team Whiskey’s safe house in an upscale neighborhood in Mexico City.  Staring straight forward, O’Connor slurred, “Shit happens.”  Without looking at Murdock, he put the glass to his lips and took another big drink.  A lone tear fell down his face.

“I told her that I hadn’t seen you this happy since Harvey was alive,” Murdock pleaded, “and it just sort of slipped out.  But I mean it!  Your face has color, brother!  I’ve seen you laughing!  For fucks sake, you went several days without a drink!  She’s so good for you, dude!”

His pleading was useless.  Another small tear went down O’Connor’s face.  The demolitions expert finished his whiskey on ice, then grabbed the bottle to refill his glass.  “Yeah, Lex is great,” O’Connor slurred heavily as he clumsily refilled his glass.

His best friend’s heartbreak made the air feel chilly.  “Talk to me, Doc!” Murdock begged.

O’Connor dropped his head without looking at his friend.  “I love you, brother,” is all he could say to Murdock.  It was a cry for help, but both men knew O’Connor couldn’t get past the heartbreak.  More than the loss of the hedgehog, it was the innocence of their youth that was shattered in that one moment that was lost.  Their reverence for humans was permanently altered.  More silent tears fell as the demolitions expert said nothing more.  He breathed heavily, as if he were holding back an ocean of sadness.

“Let me make it up to you.  We’ll find El Padre and you can blow up warehouse after warehouse of drugs.”  Usually the thought of blowing shit up made the demolitions expert perk up, but Murdock couldn’t get any emotion out of his friend.  “I promise, Doc,” Murdock paused, trying to think of anything he could say that could lighten his best friends’ pain.  He looked up to the sky as if pleading with a god he didn’t believe existed but no prayers were answered.  Murdock dropped his chin to his chest, exhaled deeply and said, “I’ll make it up to you.”

O’Connor gave a small sniffle, then lifted his head and looked up at the stars with bloodshot, glazed eyes.  He raised his glass to the perfectly clear Mexican night sky and slurred, “To Harvey.”

Murdock grabbed the bottle and lifted it up and parroted, “To Harvey.”  

Both men took a swig, then O’Connor put his glass back on the table with a little too much force.  Some whiskey splashed out over his hand, but he took no notice.  He dropped his head and tried to say, “I’m gonna go off radar.”  Even though he incoherently slurred his words, Murdock knew that his friend was gonna disappear for awhile.

Feeling awful and knowing he couldn’t stop O’Connor if he tried, Murdock took another swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle.  He let it burn as he set it back down in front of his friend.  Walking off, he said, “Take care of yourself, brother.”

Upon walking back into the house, Murdock’s wrist communicator buzzed with a call from Alexi Blacktide.  He answered, “Hey Lex,” but he was cut off before he could say anything else.

Blacktide was frantic.  “I don’t know where Doc went!”

“Don’t worry about Doc, Lex.  He’s back here at the safe house,” Murdock said consolingly as he stepped out to the front yard.  “At least, he’s here for now, that is.”

Blacktide spoke at break neck speed.  “He won’t answer my calls!  I’ve texted and texted and he won’t answer!  Is he yelling?  Is he mad?”

“Doc wasn’t wearing his watch when I just talked with him, Lex, and I haven’t heard or seen his phone, but he’s not yelling or angry.  He’s literally sitting at the patio table out back getting really, really drunk.”  Murdock was in no mood to be mediator between the two, but he felt he owed it to O’Connor.

“I didn’t do anything, Murdock!  All I did was say that if he wanted to talk about Harvey, I was happy to listen!  His face dropped and he went silent, then walked off without saying anything and he disappeared!  I didn’t know where he went!  He didn’t even say goodbye!”

“Don’t worry about Doc, Lex.  He’ll come around,” Murdock lied.  He didn’t know if O’Connor would ever be better.

“Oh my god!  Did he say anything?  Did he tell you anything?” Blacktide asked with intensity.

“Well he didn’t say anything to me directly until he started into his third bottle, but only after I tried to get him to laugh.  I failed,” Murdock admitted sheepishly.

“I don’t get it, Murdock!  Who in the fuck was this Harvey person and why is Doc all fucked up about it?  He shouldn’t have walked off on me!  Why in the fuck would he do that!?”

Not wanting to dig himself into a deeper hole, Murdock spoke honestly.  “Lex, listen.  Me and Bradley grew up with Doc.  The day Harvey died was the same day we killed our first mobsters.  We were ten years old.”

“Wait, what?  You were ten when you got your first kill?  What the fuck!?  What does this have to do with this Harvey guy?” Blacktide asked passionately.  “Who in the fuck was Harvey and why won’t Doc answer my calls!?”

The call waiting on Murdock’s wrist watch buzzed and he saw a name that he hadn’t seen for months.  “Lex, I’m getting another call and I gotta take this.  It’s about El Padre.”

“God dammit, Murdock, don’t fucking hang up on me!”

“I’m not trying to hang up on you!  I gotta take this!  You just gotta know, this is not your fault, Lex.  It’s mine.  I should’ve never mentioned the name to you.”  Murdock had a thought go through his head and decided to throw caution go to the wind.  “Women always have to try to fucking help heal people who are hurt.  You can’t help it that you’re a woman, Lex!  Obviously anyone with half a brain can see that O’Connor is fucked up but I swear to you, you won’t fix him.  Besides, it’s not my place to tell you the story.  Doc has to tell you when he’s ready, and that may be never.”  Murdock’s watch beeped again.  “Lex, I gotta go!  I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done with this call, I swear!”

“Murdock, I’m fucking warning you!…” but Alexi Blacktide’s voice disappeared as Murdock clicked a button on his wrist watch.

Rerouting all of his spiritual energy, Murdock perked up as he answered the new incoming call.  “Rodriguez, hello my good man!” he said with calm enthusiasm.  “It’s a pleasure to see your name pop up on my phone.  Que pasa, good sir?”

Marco Rodriguez was an eccentric Mexican secret agent who was shady as fuck.  Murdock didn’t know if he could fully trust Rodriguez, but he knew the man loved Mexico and hated narcotics dealers, so they were fighting the same fight.

“Amigo!” Rodriguez exclaimed.  “I just talked to a small time drug dealer and he told me some stuff that you’ll want to know.”

Murdock could hear people laughing in the background as well as loud club music.  “Where are you, Rodriguez?” he asked.

“I’m borracho at a cantina with some hot muchachas!”  Rodriguez paused for a second and Murdock could hear club music in the background with the sound of women laughing.  “I’m drunk as shit, amigo!  With women!  But I gotta talk to you cuz I heard some intel for you that you need to know.”

Murdock’s call waiting lit up on his wrist watch with Blacktide’s name.  He hit the “ignore” button and felt awful, but he wanted to hear what Rodriguez was calling about.  “I’m all ears, Rodriguez.  Talk to me.”

“El Padre’s hombres are going from bar to bar asking for information about a group of gringos from el norte who wrecked his casino.  Word on the street is that El Padre is really pissed off and is out for blood.  They want vengeance for all the bikers that were killed two days ago too.  El Padre is with his men right now scaring everyone in the cantinas.  Keep your head on a swivel, amigo!”

Murdock appreciated that Rodriguez spoke such good English.  “This is good to know.  Do you have any idea where El Padre might be or how we can find him?” he asked.

“Word has it that El Padre is with his guards down on the riviera right now, amigo!  There are lots of tourist bars down there, but they are only going into the, um….” Rodriguez paused.  He couldn’t think of the correct words in English, but it came to him.  “…the bars with shady reputations, hombre.  Every biker bar you can imagine, El Padre is out tonight, asking around.  I’m too drunk to join you amigo, and I think I’m gonna go to bed tonight with a couple of hermanas, amigo.”

Blacktide called Murdock a second time with the same ignored result.  Murdock again felt awful that he was ignoring her calls but the information that Rodriguez had shared was exactly what he needed.  Having only heard the term “hermana” in Catholic churches, Murdock figured Rodriguez was trying to bang nuns.  “Hey, Marco, are Mexican nuns different than American nuns?  Can they have sex?”

Confused, Rodriguez said, “Nuns?  No amigo, they don’t have sex, hombre.”

“But you’re gonna take some nuns to bed?” Murdock asked with pure confusion.

Rodriguez laughed a hearty Mexican laugh.  “I’m drinking tequila with hermanas!  Sisters, amigo!  I’ve never had two muchachas at the same time before but the margaritas are doing the work for me!  Good luck killing that bastard, amigo!”  Rodriguez hung up with the sound of laughing women in the background and club music distorting the small speaker on Murdock’s watch.

Instantly Murdock’s wrist communicator rang with Blacktide’s name popping up on the screen for the third time in less than a few minutes.  Murdock answered matter of factly, “Lex, no time to talk.  Call Porter and get her to drive you to the riviera.”

“God dammit, Murdock,” Blacktide started, but rather than cuss him out, she asked, “What in the fuck is going on?”

“Here’s the scoop,” Murdock said as he jogged back into the house.  As he spoke, he grabbed a few duffle bags full of guns and ammo.  “Doc will most likely disappear for awhile, but I doubt he’ll be gone for months like he was last time.  He likes you too much.”  

“But…” Blacktide tried to say, but Murdock cut her off.

“Hear me out, Lex.  I’ve known Doc my whole life and he’s never been as happy as he is with you.  Trust me.”  Murdock pulled his shirt off and grabbed a bullet proof vest.  His voice was winded as he talked.  “If you want to help Doc recover from this bender, we gotta get El Padre.  I just got word that he’s with his thugs, like, right now, going in and out of biker bars down on the riviera.  They’re desperate to find us, and I say we introduce ourselves.”

“I’m coming to the safe house to talk with Doc,” Blacktide insisted.

“Suit yourself, but he’ll disappear before you get here.  It’s what he does, and you won’t find him.  None of us will.  He’ll resurface when he’s ready.”

“The fuck he won’t!” Blacktide insisted.

“Doc is as predictable as the sunrise, Lex.  He gets sad, he drinks, he disappears, he reappears and goes right back to killing bad guys and blowing shit up.  He’s crazy about you and he won’t be gone long, I promise.”  Murdock honestly didn’t know what O’Connor might do, but he knew that El Padre was vulnerable and now was the chance to get the kill.

“I can be there in half an hour,” Blacktide protested.

“Suit yourself, but when this fucking safe house is empty with no note or text from Doc and you miss killing El Padre tonight, don’t blame me, Lex.  And for real, I need your quick hand right now.  Please!  I need you, Bradley and Death with me, cuz I just fucking know that we’re gonna bump into El Padre tonight.  This is it!”  Murdock threw his t-shirt back over his bullet proof vest and headed out for action.

As if it were the only thing in her vocabulary that she could say, she yelled in pure frustration, “God dammit, Murdock!”

“If I had a nickel for every time a lady said that to me.”  He chuckled at his own immature joke, then added, “Look, I’ve got your bag of toys and I grabbed extra hollow points.  I’m getting an uber.  Meet me on the riviera boardwalk in thirty minutes or I’m shooting all of your guns without your permission.”

This was the exact thing he knew that Blacktide didn’t want to hear.  “Don’t you dare shoot my guns, you asshole!”

With a firm tone, Murdock yelled back at his watch, “Then meet me at the riviera in thirty minutes!”  He hung up the call and jogged to the outdoor backyard patio to check on O’Connor.  

His friend was gone.  No note or other form of communication.  Just an empty bottle and a rocks glass with mostly melted ice were all that remained.  “Quit beating yourself up, brother,” Murdock said to himself.  With that, he hoofed it with two full duffle bags out of the back yard as he pulled his phone out to get an uber.

Exactly thirty one minutes later, Murdock stood under a street lamp by a beautiful river.  A super nice bright yellow sports car approached him at over a hundred miles an hour and showed no sign of slowing down or stopping.  “You’re late,” he muttered to himself.

Eighty yards away, the car brakes seized up making the tires start squealing loudly.  As the smell of burning rubber filled the air, the car started swinging sideways.  The sound reverberated throughout the entire neighborhood, drawing eyes from people who were several blocks away.

Over the course of a few seconds, the car came to a complete stop, perfectly parallel to the curb only feet away from where Murdock stood.  Murdock shook his head and said to himself, “Well if anyone wasn’t paying attention before, they’re looking now.”  Speaking of the driver, he grumbled, “Fucking psycho.”

A second later, Alexi Blacktide poured out of the passenger seat looking like she needed to puke.  She doubled over with her hands to her knees.  The driver side door popped open and a beautiful woman with short brown hair pulled behind her ears jumped out.  With a chipper smile, pilot Porter greeted her teammate.  “Hi Murdock!  Sorry I’m late.  Traffic was hell.”

Murdock grinned.  “Yeah, with twenty million people in Mexico City, who would’ve thought that there might be a few cars here.”

“Right?!” Porter agreed.  “Thank god I lost those cops or our night would be no fun!”

Realizing that they were now the scene of a lot of attention, all Murdock could reply was, “Unreal, Porter.”

Gaining her composure, Blacktide stood up and took a deep breath.  “I think they were federales.  No bueno,” she said, shaking her head.

“We’re fine,” Porter said with a huge smile, as if this sort of thing was routine for a Friday night.  “This car is stolen anyways and we’re both wearing gloves.  We’ll leave this baby here and I’ll drive us away in whatever Bradley’s driving,” Porter said enthusiastically.

Grunting to himself, Murdock shook his head.  “So much for the element of surprise.”  He made eye contact with Blacktide and nodded.  “Lex, don’t worry about Doc.”  

Porter must’ve been chatting with Blacktide about the situation because she added, “You’re good for him, Lex.  He’ll be ok.”

Blacktide didn’t look convinced as Murdock tossed her a duffle bag and smiled.  “I promise I didn’t touch your guns.  Now let’s go find a narcotics boss and kill the fucker.”

“I wish Doc was here,” Blacktide said defeatedly after walking a block.  “Did he say anything to you before you left?”  She was desperate for connection to her boyfriend.

Murdock decided to be honest.  “He’s already disappeared.  I have no clue where he went or where he’s off to.”

“That fucker.”  Blacktide was visibly angry, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  Calmly, she said, “I just want to know that he’s ok.  That’s all.”

Porter tried to console her.  “He’s always fine, Lex.  Besides, when he goes off radar like this, he’s never had a girlfriend.”  She paused and said, “Come to think of it, O’Connor never talks about his personal life, like, ever.”

Walking at a good pace, Murdock said, “Doc is a private man.  He always has been.  He holds his emotions close to his chest, no doubt.”

Neither woman said anything in response as the three of them tried to put as much distance between them and the stolen sports car as possible.  A few blocks later, a black SUV with the lights off pulled up beside them and parked quietly several paces in front of them.  

Murdock pointed to the rig and said, “See, Porter?!  That is how a person drives if they want to remain incognito!”

“You worry too much, Murdock!” Porter said with a smile.  “This is nice!” she added, talking about the vehicle.

The doors popped open to reveal special agent Bradley McVandalay and agent Death.  Murdock opened his arms to hug McVandalay.  “Look what the cat dragged in!”

McVandalay saw Porter’s smiling face and didn’t hesitate to toss her the keys.  “All yours, Porter.”

“I love this model!” Porter added as she jumped into the drivers seat and ran her fingers seductively over the steering wheel.

McVandalay shrugged and nodded to his friends.  “I was watching soccer in a sports bar when you called, fucker,” McVandalay said as he threw his huge bear arms around Murdock.  “If you think baseball is fucking boring, don’t watch soccer.  Christ have mercy.”

Agent Death seemed annoyed too.  “I don’t get it.  They fall down a lot and pretend to be hurt when they barely get touched.”

Thinking of an old Irish joke, Murdock said, “They say that soccer is ninety minutes of pretending you’re hurt while rugby is eighty minutes pretending you’re not.”  After a pause, he added, “I prefer rugby.”

McVandalay appreciated the levity as he hugged Blacktide.  “Well if I never watch a soccer match again, it’ll be too soon.  Fuck that boring ass sport.”

“And the people here freak out about it,” Death added.  “I don’t get it.”

“I hear that Mexican parents don’t hug their kids a lot,” Murdock joked, “especially their boys.”

Blacktide grumbled, “This explains so much about Mexican men.”

“And pussy ass soccer players in general,” Death added.  “Speaking of pussies, where’s Doc?”

“He’s gone off radar,” Murdock replied.  

McVandalay crinkled his brow in confusion, then without knowing the specifics, he instantly understood.  “Damn,” he said with defeat.

“Is everything alright?” Death asked with genuine concern.

Murdock couldn’t think of anything to say to lighten the mood so he again spoke honestly.  “Doc drinks to cover up a lot of sadness that he doesn’t openly share.”

“Well he should’ve played soccer, then.  I rest my case about pussies,” Death joked in her typical dry fashion.

“We don’t have pussy issues, Death, we’ve got bad guy issues, and I for one want them all dead.  Look alive, soldiers,” Murdock snapped as they approached a biker bar that was two blocks away.

“What’s the plan?” Death asked.

“Same as always,” Murdock answered.

“So you’re saying there’s no plan.  Got it,” McVandalay joked.

As the crew was walking and bullshitting, Porter called out from a block behind them, “I’ll be ready when y’all need a ride!”

“You rock, Porter,” Murdock yelled back appreciatively.  Ever the optimist, he said encouragingly to his three friends who were about to embark on this crazy fools errand to find El Padre, “Trust your instincts and keep your eyes out for their colors.  Those idiots announce themselves to the world when they wear those stupid fucking vests.”

Agent Alexi Blacktide had been emotionally distracted all day since her silent treatment interaction with her boyfriend, but despite her worry, she was a pro.  “I’m sure that the locals are afraid of them, but ever since we’ve shown up, I bet they’re afraid to wear their colors in public.”

As soon as she finished her sentence, the four members of Team Whiskey saw a group of four bikers walk out of a cantina a few blocks away.  They were all wearing their biker vests, proudly displaying the colors of El Padre’s biker gang.  Fate was giving Team Whiskey a sign to start kicking some ass.

“Split up,” McVandalay said.  “Death and I will take those four fuckers out and you two head down that street over there to check those shitty little cantinas.”  McVandalay stepped up his pace as he headed towards the biker thugs.  “This’ll be fun,” he said as he cracked his knuckles.

“You and your long fucking legs,” Death bitched as she scurried to keep up with his fast pace.  “Save a girl a few scraps, will you?”

“No promises,” McVandalay said as he licked his lips while walking quickly to the fight that was about to go down.

In the distance, different groups of thug bikers walked in and out of various cantinas looking for gringos from el norte, all thinking that they’d have the element of surprise and be the heroes in El Padres eyes but having no clue that they stood no chance against the insanely pale lunatics who were currently hunting them.