Ballard waited for Bella Lourdes by the Coyote Street gate to the fire road leading up into the hills and the abandoned animal training compound. She was looking at the aerial photos Heather Rourke had texted her and deciding whether it would be better to approach the compound on foot or by attempting to drive a vehicle up the rugged fire road.
The compound was not far up and was in an open area that would prevent an unannounced approach by car. She decided she would go on foot and call in the airship if a show of LAPD force was necessary.
When Lourdes arrived, she had a partner with her. She identified him as Detective Danny Sisto and, recognizing Ballard’s concern, vouched for him as someone Bosch himself would implicitly trust. Ballard accepted her assurance and brought them both up to date on the situation. She showed them the photos from the airship’s flyover.
“Okay, I think I know the connection here,” Lourdes said.
“What?” Ballard asked.
Lourdes looked at Sisto for confirmation when she spoke.
“A couple years ago, there was a big Animal Control bust up here,” she said. “This place was like a training center for animals used in film and TV but it had been abandoned for years. The SanFers discovered it and they were running cockfights and dog fights up here. Animal Control got wind of it and shut it down.”
“I remember that,” Sisto said. “It was a big story. I think you guys were part of it.”
This last part he said to Ballard, meaning that the LAPD had joined Animal Control in shutting down the illegal activities at the compound. Ballard remembered nothing about the events or the media attention it got. But the confirmation that this was a place the SanFers knew about and had used previously was important. She knew they were in the right place.
Sisto pointed at her phone, which still had an aerial shot of the compound on the screen.
“We’re going to search the structures, right?” he asked. “Do we have a warrant? This is still private property, abandoned or not.”
“We don’t have time,” Ballard said.
“Exigent circumstances all the way,” Lourdes said.
Looking at the photos, they identified two trails in addition to the fire road that led through the brush and up to the compound. Before they headed up separately, Ballard called Rourke, explained the plan, and told her to stand by. The airship was still on the ground at the nearby LAPD training facility and Rourke assured her that it was ready to respond.
Ballard disconnected and looked at Lourdes and Sisto.
“Okay, let’s go find Harry,” she said.
Ballard had chosen the most direct route to the compound—the fire road. She stayed close to the tall brush that lined it but had the easier climb and the quickest time to the clearing where the compound was located.
At the final bend before the clearing, she started to hear a loud banging sound coming from the direction of the compound. It was intermittent. Five or six heavy impacts and then silence. After a few seconds it would start again.
Ballard pulled her phone to call or text Lourdes but saw she no longer had cell service. She had left the rover in the car since she wanted to keep this operation off the air. Each of them would have to approach on their own now, not knowing the progress of the others.
Ballard reached the clearing, pulling her gun and holding it at her side as she approached the first of two rundown structures. She turned the corner of the front building and saw Lourdes emerge from a trail to her right. There was no sign of Sisto.
Ballard was about to signal Lourdes over so they could clear the first building, when the banging started again. She could tell that it was coming from the other, smaller building set at the back of the clearing. Ballard pointed toward it. Lourdes nodded and they moved in the direction of the sound.
There was a wooden door on rollers that had been slid open four feet. It gave Ballard and Lourdes an angle on the inside of the shed but the structure was rectangular and its full interior could not be seen from outside.
As they got within a few feet of the opening, the banging stopped.
They froze and waited. It didn’t start again. Looking at the open door, Ballard spoke loudly.
“Harry?”
After a moment of silence:
“In here!”
Ballard looked at Lourdes.
“Hold cover. I’ll go in.”
Ballard entered the structure gun up. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and then she turned to her right. The far wall of the shed was lined with rusting kennels, two stacked rows of four. Bosch was sitting in the third cage on the upper row, knees pulled up to his chest in the small space. Through the steel fencing, Ballard could see that his hands and ankles were tied. There was blood on his shirt and a laceration on his upper left cheek, just below a swollen eye.
Ballard swept the rest of the space with her weapon to make sure.
“It’s clear,” Bosch said. “But they’ll probably come back soon.”
He raised his bound feet and kicked at the door of the kennel, creating the banging sound Ballard had heard from outside the shed. His fruitless effort to break free and escape.
“Okay, hold on, Harry, and we’ll get you out,” she said. “What’s your status? Do we call an RA?”
“No RA,” Bosch said. “I’m good. Couple of bruised ribs, my legs cramping like hell. I probably need stitches under my eye. They didn’t want to beat me up too bad before Tranquillo got here with his dogs.”
Ballard didn’t think Bosch would go for the rescue ambulance. Not his style. She moved close to the cage and studied the padlock holding it closed.
“They didn’t leave the key hidden around here, did they?” she asked.
“Not that I saw,” Bosch said.
“I could shoot the lock but the ricochet might hit you.”
“Only works in movies.”
“Bella? All clear.”
Lourdes entered the shed then.
“Harry, you okay?” she asked urgently.
“I will be as soon as you get me out of here,” Bosch said. “My knee’s killing me.”
“Okay, I’m going back to the car,” said Ballard. “I think we can put a crowbar through the loop and twist it off.”
Bosch looked at Ballard through the fencing.
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Did you send the helicopter up here?”
“Yeah,” Ballard said.
Bosch nodded his thanks.
“I’ll be right back,” Ballard said.
Sisto was standing in the clearing, his back to the shed and maintaining a watch. Ballard passed by him on her way to the road down to the vehicles.
“Did you clear the other structure?” she asked.
“All clear,” he said.
“I’m going to need you in a few to twist off a lock.”
“I’m ready. Is he okay?”
“He will be.”
“Great.”
As she was heading down the fire road, her phone regained service and a text from Rourke came through. She was checking in and wanting an update. Ballard called her and told her to continue to stand by. As soon as Bosch was free, they would need to make a decision on what to do: set up a trap for his captors should they return, or clear out and proceed in another way.
She retrieved the crowbar from her city car’s roadside emergency kit, grabbed the rover out of the charging dock, and headed back up the fire road. Halfway up she heard the rat-a-tat sound of a dirt bike behind her. She turned and saw a rider on a lime-green bike come to a stop on Coyote Street and look up at her. He was wearing a matching helmet with a darkly tinted visor. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the rider turned the wheel and walked the bike into a U-turn before taking off.
Knowing that the first option of waiting for the return of the captors was now moot, she called Rourke on the radio and ordered the airship back into flight. She asked Rourke to circle the compound as a backup measure, keeping an eye out for the lime-green dirt bike.
Ballard was out of breath from hustling up the hill to the shed. She handed the crowbar to Sisto like she was passing a baton and he took it inside the shed while she trailed behind. She bent over and put her hands on her thighs and watched as Sisto threaded the crowbar through the loop on the cage door. He then turned the bar and the loop popped off its weld points. He opened the door and Ballard came over and joined Lourdes in carefully helping Bosch out and lowering him to his feet on the dirt floor. Lourdes opened a pocket knife and cut the bindings off his hands and feet.
“Standing up feels good,” he said.
He painfully tried a few steps, putting an arm around each woman’s neck.
“I think we need an RA, Harry,” Lourdes said.
“No, I don’t need that,” Bosch protested. “I can walk. Just let me…”
He dropped his arms from them and hobbled toward the doorway on his own. The sound of the airship off in the distance was coming closer.
“Call them off,” Bosch said. “These guys might be coming back. We can take them then.”
“No, I blew it,” Ballard said. “They know we’re here. Lime-green dirt bike?”
Bosch nodded.
“Yeah, him.”
“He saw me when I went back for the crowbar. Saw the cars.”
“Shit.”
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
Bosch walked out into the clearing and looked up at the sun. Ballard watched him. She guessed that during the night, he might have come to the grim conclusion that he’d never see the big orange ball again.
“Harry, let’s go get you looked at and get some stitches on that cheek,” Lourdes said. “Then we’ll go over gang books and draw warrants for every one of the motherfuckers you identify.”
Ballard knew that the SFPD must have extensive photo books of known members of the SanFers. If Bosch made IDs of those who had revealed themselves to him during the night, then they could make arrests.
“I don’t think they were SanFers,” Bosch said. “I think Tranquillo called in the eMe for this. Probably made sure all of his boys had alibis for the night.”
“And Cortez never showed up?” Lourdes asked.
“Nope. I think he was coming by today. With his dogs.”
Bosch turned to Ballard.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“Your daughter,” Ballard said. “The tracking app on your phone.”
“Did she come up?”
“No, I told her to stay away from the house.”
“I have to call her. They took my phone and crunched it.”
“You can use mine as soon as it gets service.”
Lourdes pulled her phone and checked it, then held it up.
“Two bars,” she said.
She handed Bosch the phone and he punched in a number. Ballard only heard his side of the conversation.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m okay.”
He listened and then continued in a calming voice.
“No, really. I got a little roughed up but no big deal. Where are you?”
Ballard read the relief on Bosch’s face. Maddie had listened to her and stayed away from the house.
“My phone got crunched, so if you need me, call this number for Detective Lourdes,” he said. “You can also call Detective Ballard. You have that number, right?”
He listened and nodded, even though his daughter wouldn’t see it.
“Uh, no, she’s gone now,” he said. “She left a couple days ago. We can talk about that later.”
He then listened for a long time before making a final response.
“Love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”
He disconnected the phone and handed it back to Ballard. He looked shaken by the call, or maybe the realization of how close he had come to losing everything.
Bosch turned to Lourdes and Sisto.
“I’ll come in tomorrow to look at the eMe book,” he said. “I just want to go home now.”
“You can’t go home,” Ballard said quickly. “It’s a crime scene. So is this. We need to run this by the book: call out Major Crimes, find out how they got to you. How they got to your house.”
“And you need stitches,” Lourdes said.
Ballard saw the realization break on Bosch’s face. He had a long day ahead of him.
“Fine, I’ll go to the ER. And you can call out the troops. But I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Bosch started unsteadily walking toward the dirt road leading down. His limp was more pronounced than when Ballard had seen it before.
She saw him look up at the airship passing overhead. He raised his arm and sent a thumbs-up as a thank-you.