“Wait for me,” Vlad said.
Haley glanced down at the numbers on her phone again, trying to memorize the combination. Then she replaced it in her back pocket.
The locker was near the back of the room. Haley tried to breathe evenly as she passed rows of open lockers and wondered for the second time why she’d chosen one so far into the narrow hall. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up as she got deeper into the tiled cave, the only entrance or exit getting farther away.
She found the locker and quickly tapped the numbers. The lock popped open.
The cash she’d left the day before had been replaced by a thick envelope.
Haley grabbed it and slammed the locker shut. She strode toward the exit, brushing past several other patrons trying to shove their luggage into lockers too small for the rollerboards.
She snuck a peek inside the packet and breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw two passports and a few folded slips of paper. Careful to make sure the top of the envelope was tucked in, she slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket.
She was almost to the exit when she looked up.
A lanky man with a green baseball hat, sunglasses, and a beard was standing a dozen paces from the entrance, talking to someone on a Bluetooth. His body was turned toward the lockers, but he was looking toward the station entrance.
Haley ducked behind a tourist couple as he glanced toward the lockers again, but he twisted his head back toward the station entrance.
The woman in front of her finished pushing her suitcase into the locker and stood with a moan. She had gray hair, was a bit overweight, and wore a fanny pack. Her husband was practically the mirror image of her.
“I told you not to pack so much,” the husband said.
“Had to get all my lingerie in there,” she said.
The husband snorted. “If that’s the case, you may as well just give me a heart attack now.”
She slapped his arm playfully, and they started heading for the exit.
“Excuse me,” Haley said.
They both stopped and turned.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Haley said. “My ex is standing out there. He’s . . . he’s not a good man.”
The couple’s eyes went wide.
“You should call the police,” the man said.
“They won’t be here in time,” Haley said. “Look, I’m sorry to ask this, but could you just distract him for a moment? Maybe just ask him for directions or something? He’s the one with the green cap.”
“Of course,” the woman said. “Just give us a moment.”
“We should really be getting . . .”
“We’re going to help her,” the woman said. “Besides, heroic men that save the damsel get me in the mood . . . Especially if they’re British.”
The man’s eyes lit up, and he was already walking before Haley could grimace.
The woman looked back at Haley and winked. Then jerked her head for Haley to get moving.
“Excuse me, my good man,” the husband called in an atrocious English accent. “Could you tell me where we could find the prime minister’s residence?”
The man in the ball cap spun around, looking to see who the husband was talking to, only to realize it was him.
“What?”
“The minister, you know, jolly fellow who runs things on this side of the bloody pond.”
If she hadn’t been so scared, she would have laughed as she slipped out of the locker area and ducked down another hallway toward the bus terminal.
She was about to turn a corner, so she risked a look back. The British imposter was now yelling and had attracted a large crowd of onlookers.
Haley’s smile froze as she recognized one of the faces.
Vlad was tempted to pull his gun and fire into the air, but that would only get him shot. Instead, he was starting to muscle his way through the crowd when he saw a woman look back from thirty yards down the hall toward the bus depot.
She stood for a moment too long, and Vlad’s own smile crept up his face as he recognized her.
He stuck two giant fists between the people in front of him and shoved them sideways, clearing a space. He took off running, barreling between Gil and the idiot he was arguing with, knocking the older man to the ground.
The crowd on the other side parted willingly as he charged, and then he was sprinting down the hallway like a greyhound with the fox’s scent.
Haley tried to weave through the crowd, but any time she tried to force her way through, she was more likely to bounce off the person than make it through. Shouts rose up behind her, and Vlad’s Russian accent echoed down the tile hallway.
Haley fought the swelling panic and ducked to the left side of the tunnel. Hugging the wall, she pumped her legs as hard as she could.
Suddenly, someone grabbed the back of her collar and yanked her backward. Haley’s head snapped forward with dizzying force. She flew through the air, seeing the crowd give way to the white ceiling tiles.
She landed hard on her back. She blinked several times to clear her vision, and Vlad loomed over her.
He wore a predatory smile. A wolf savoring the kill.
A small ring of people formed around them, unsure if they should intervene.
“Nothing to see here folks,” Vlad said. “I’m a bounty hunter. This woman skipped bail last week. Just protecting society.”
He pulled a pair of shiny handcuffs from his back pocket and held them up as further proof.
Haley tried to shake her head and refute him, but he stepped on her chest and pressed hard enough that the air was forced from her lungs in a hiss.
The crowd seemed to accept this and started to resume their commute.
Haley looked around wildly, black specks starting to appear in her vision as she tried to breathe.
A homeless man sat just behind Vlad, head lowered with a small hat in front of him on the floor.
Haley lashed out with her leg, and her back heel barely caught the lip of the hat, sending coins flying across the floor.
The man screamed, and several people turned again.
Vlad turned as well, but the man was already lunging for the coins.
Haley wasn’t sure if he was drunk or high, or both, but his balance was off, and instead of going straight for the coins, he hurtled into the back of the knee Vlad didn’t have on Haley.
Vlad fell with a grunt, and Haley was sure that one of her ribs did crack as his weight came down on her.
The homeless man seemed to think Vlad was the aggressor and grabbed him again before he could get back up.
The two tussled on the ground, and Haley managed to sit up. She tried to push herself to her feet, but Vlad grabbed the jacket again. He could only hold on with one hand as he tried to defend himself from the other man.
Haley tried to yank herself free, but Vlad grunted, and she felt him pull her back.
She let her arms go limp and felt a flash of pain as they were pulled back at unnatural angles for a moment.
Then the jacket slipped off her shoulders, and she was free.
She took off down the tunnel, dodging through the crowd of commuters.
Haley kept running until she broke into the sunlight, her lungs hurting as she forced herself to keep moving.
Buses were lined up along the sidewalk, and Haley saw that the closest one didn’t leave for another ten minutes.
She sprinted down the line until she found one that was about to depart. She jumped on as the doors were closing. She fished her ticket out of the back pocket of her jeans and handed it to the driver, then took a seat at the back, wincing as she did.
The air brakes hissed, and the bus lurched backward. Haley leaned back in her seat, trying to take shallow breaths, but each one came with a jab of pain.
She looked sideways out the window as they passed the tunnel entrance and saw Vlad, blood bubbling from several scratches on his face and her jacket still in his hand, rush out. His head snapped back and forth
several times, looking down the row of buses.
Haley smiled as they pulled away, but her stomach turned as she saw the top of the white envelope sticking up from the inside corner of her jacket.
Chapter Fourteen
“I thought this guy was supposed to be trustworthy,” Haley said. “That’s why we—Ow!”
Dana looked up apologetically.
“He’s one of the best,” she said. “There’s no way he gave us up.”
“Well someone did,” Hector said over the speakerphone. “And now we have no money and no escape.”
“Sorry, I had to choose between the IDs and my life,” Haley snapped.
“She’s just pissy because the pain meds haven’t kicked in yet,” Dana said. “No luck with another way out?”
“Not unless you want to try to make a whole new set of IDs from scratch,” Hector said.
“They wouldn’t pass,” Haley said. “Is there anyone cheaper?”
“There’s always someone cheaper,” Hector said. “But I don’t think you want to risk it.”
“With Vlad on the loose? No.” Haley said. “What about the money?”
“I doubt you’re going to get it back,” Dana said. “Not like you can complain to the Better Business Bureau.”
Haley winced again as Dana tied off the bandages.
“What do you want to do then?” Hector asked.
“I want to get out of here,” Haley said. “But that’s off the table now, isn’t it?”
“If you run, you’re always going to be looking over your shoulder,” Dana said.
“You can’t take the Volkags on,” Hector said. “They have too many resources. And no offense, but you’re a terrible shot.”
“I’m not going to be on the front lines,” Haley said. “Maybe we can keep feeding the cops.”
“And keep putting Bradley in danger?” Dana said sharply.
Haley cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You can’t tell me you want to do that.”
“No,” Haley said slowly. “But there is something to be said about using someone else for the dirty work.”
“Hale . . .” Hector said.
“What about DS-13?”
“No,” Hector said. “They find out you’re using them, and they’ll kill you faster than the Volkags would.”
“Not if I tell them I’m going to use them upfront.”
“You want to tell the most violent gang in DC that you’re going to use them to get you out of trouble with another gang?”
It was Dana’s turn to arch an eyebrow.
“They’re rivals,” Haley said. “They fight over the same turf. They both want to control the drugs and guns that are coming into DC. We just have to tell them that they’ll be eliminating the competition.”
“You’re going to make the blood run in the streets,” Hector said. “And if they don’t buy it, you’re as dead as if Vlad had caught you at Union.”
“Then, I guess we have to make a compelling argument.”
“I don’t like this,” Hector said. “You don’t even know how to approach these guys. Much less get them to trust you.”
“We don’t need them to trust us,” Haley said. “They just have to take the intel we give them and use it.”
“What makes you think they won’t kill you when they’re done?” Dana said. “They’ll have seen you take down one gang. They may not want to risk you doing the same to another.”
“I’ll have to just stay useful,” Haley said. “One problem at a time.”
“I don’t like it,” Hector said.
“If you’ve got something better, I’m all ears.”
Hector sighed.
“Do you have any idea how to get in touch with DS-13?” he asked.
“I’ll find them,” Haley said. “If they’re not on PRoM they’ll have to be on Linen Street.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Dana said. “I don’t think they’re as high tech as they Volkags. Mostly just old school drugs and guns.”
“There’s no way they aren’t somewhere.”
“I’m sure they are somewhere,” Hector said. “But if they cops can’t pin them down, I doubt you’ll be able to.”
“We can do things the cops can’t,” Haley said with a smile. She turned to Dana. “I need you to help me with a sales pitch.”
Chapter Fifteen
Haley strode down the sidewalk, her hood pulled up against the rain, a backpack over her shoulder.
The houses were old, the brick crumbling in places and rust spots dotting the metal railings of the fence that separated the sidewalk from the small yards of each lot. A few of the houses had toys littering the lawn, but most simply had overgrown grass poking through the mud at every angle.
Haley could feel the stares of the people looking out windows or sitting on the front porches. She tried to keep her head straight ahead, not looking too inquisitive.
She stopped in front of one of the few lawns that wasn’t completely overgrown and double-checked the address Dana had given her.
She clenched her fists to stop her hands from shaking and pushed the small gate open.
She’d taken two steps into the lawn when the front door opened, and a man in a white wife-beater and jeans walked out. He had a sleeve of tattoos on each arm and more creeping up his neck. About the only place without ink was his face.
He planted his feet on the top step and hooked his fingers in the waistline of his jeans, drawing Haley’s eyes to the gun tucked in the waistband.
Haley stopped.
“Unless you’re selling Girl Scout cookies, I think you need to turn around and get out of here.”
“I’m looking for Miguel Vasquez,” Haley said.
“Nobody here by that name.”
“I’ve got a business proposition for him,” Haley continued. “I can help him—”
“There’s nobody here named Miguel,” the man said.
“I’m a hacker, one of the best, and I want to help him take DS-13—”
The man pulled the gun and pointed it at her with one hand.
“You need to turn around and leave. Before I decide this is a setup.”
“Please, I’m not trying to cause trouble,” Haley said, raising her hands slowly. “I just need help.”
“Do we look like a fricking charity?”
“I’m not asking for charity. I’m looking to make a deal.”
“I don’t like to hurt women, but if you’re still here by the count of three, I will blow you away. One . . .”
“Look, I just want to talk. That’s—”
“Two . . .”
“Please, I don’t have anywhere else to go. If you don’t help me, my son—”
“Three.”
Haley closed her eyes.
The hammer clicked down.
Haley flinched, but nothing else happened.
Then she heard the door open, and another pair of footsteps creaked on the wood planks of the porch.
Haley slowly opened her eyes.
An older man had joined the one with the gun and was looking at her thoughtfully.
He had the same sun-braised skin as the younger man, but it was more leathery and full of wrinkles. He had a full head of jet black hair, with a few gray strands, and a matching beard. He was wearing the same white tank top as the first guy, but aside from a tattoo on his left forearm, which looked like a unit insignia, he was free of ink.
He met Haley’s eyes, and they stared at each other silently for several seconds.
Finally, the man spoke. “A cop wouldn’t have taken a bullet before they were through the door.”
His voice was a-pack-a-day rough and raspy.
“I’m not a cop,” Haley said.
The man snorted.
“Come inside,” he said. “If you’re going to make me money, no sense in catching the flu before you do.”
He turned and disappeared back inside. Haley took a tentative step forward, watching the other man, who still had his gu
n trained on her.
The younger man lowered the gun with a grin and stepped aside to let Haley pass.
The interior of the house was cozy and warm. Floor lamps threw light across the yellow wallpaper and paisley couches. The carpet was maroon, but either because of the color or the upkeep, Haley couldn’t see any stains.
The TV was on, and a kid around fifteen or sixteen was watching a soccer match. He looked up as Haley came in, and Haley realized he had the same amber eyes that the older man had.
Speaking of, Haley saw the older man open a cabinet in the kitchen and start pulling glasses down.
Haley felt a pair of hands on her back, and she nearly whirled around to throw a punch.
“Calm down,” the older man said from the kitchen. “He’s just getting your coat. Don’t want you dripping all over the floor.”
Haley let a breath out and shifted her backpack so that she could shrug out of her coat.
The older man beckoned her into the kitchen and set a few glasses down on a table in the corner.
Haley walked through the living room, the teen following her with his eyes but keeping his head forward.
“Sit,” the older man motioned to an empty chair across from him.
Haley sunk into the chair, holding her backpack on her lap.
The man uncorked a rectangular bottle and poured amber liquid into three glasses.
“Drink,” he said, holding one out to her.
When she took it, he clinked his own against hers and took a sip, closing his eyes and savoring it.
Haley followed his example, and the was surprised by the sweet taste of the liquor.
“That’s good,” she said, surprised.
“Not all tequila is meant to be taken out of a girl’s belly button,” the man said with a laugh.
The younger man grinned again and took his own glass, though he remained standing.
“Now that we’ve established that we are adequate hosts,” the man said. “Why don’t we start with introductions.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m Haley.”
“And I am Miguel,” the older man said. “This is Enrique, though he goes by Eric. “And that,” he motioned to the teen in the living room, “was Josef.”
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