Trojan

by Brandon Clark

  The last van was still shut, but Haley counted a dozen men standing around chatting and smoking. None were large enough to be Vlad, and Haley was torn if it was worth the risk of trying to sneak past. Whatever they were doing was probably illegal, so they wouldn’t want any witnesses. On the other hand, if the building behind them was the drug den, it would take her at least another hour to try to get around them.

  She stood and debated with herself for too long.

  Headlights illuminated the building opposite her, and she was once again saved by a dumpster. The metal bin blocked enough light to keep her in the shadows. Thankfully, Josef and his friends loved a loud engine, so she heard them coming soon enough that she was able to dive face first into the garbage heap next to the green metal bin.

  She landed among the industrial-sized black bags, one squirting here with a stream of garbage juice as her hand pressed against it, and she nearly vomited at the smell of rotting food, fish, and whatever else was in there.

  She didn’t risk moving until the thundering engine passed. She tried to hold her breath, but when she started to feel lightheaded, she had no choice but to suck in the rotting air.

  When her bones stopped rattling, she raised her head.

  There were two pickup trucks, also from the sixties, stopped in the middle of the street. They had come down the road and turned left and now sat less than fifteen feet from the corner of the building where she’d been standing. They were partially blocking the street, but their headlights were pointing toward the black vans.

  Haley crawled forward, away from the trucks, but froze as she heard more engines. She leaned out from the side of the dumpster and saw at least two more pairs of headlights rolling to a stop about a block up the street.

  The cars weren’t as flashy as the others, but as they parked and turned off the lights, Haley thought she could make out four heads in the front car and at least two in the trailing one.

  The men didn’t get out of the car, but the passenger riding shotgun in the front car was lit up by the blue, green glow of a cellphone.

  Reinforcements.

  Haley decided she definitely had the world’s worst luck.

  She slowly twisted between the bags, doing her best not to move too quickly in case the movement attracted unwanted attention. Then she crawled back toward her post at the corner of the building to see what was happening.

  Fortunately, the pickup trucks’ occupants had gotten out and were leaning on the hood, their night vision ruined by the headlights as they focused on the vans.

  Haley inched closer. Car doors slammed, and as she peeked around the corner, she saw Josef walking casually toward Vlad. His own car was parked between the trucks and the vans.

  She was glad she hadn’t tried to walk past them.

  Vlad towered over Josef. But the teenager turned traitor didn’t seem bothered.

  “You’re late,” Vlad boomed. “And probably woke up half the neighborhood. Do you know what a muffler is?”

  “I was trying to salvage your porn,” Josef replied. “That bitch was tough to crack.”

  Vlad cocked an eyebrow.

  “You got the encryption key?”

  Josef shook his head. “She’d deleted it.”

  “Then, why are you late?”

  “That wasn’t the only thing I needed from her,” Josef said.

  “Where is she?”

  “You’ll get her eventually,” Josef said. “We still have unfinished business.”

  Vlad stepped closer and said something Haley couldn’t hear. But from the way Josef’s shoulders straightened and his back went stiff, she could guess at the message.

  “You’ll get her,” Josef said. “And in the meantime, I’ll make sure to make her life painful. Can we get to the business at hand now?”

  Vlad stepped back, regarding Josef coolly, but waved his men forward. Two blonde meatheads grabbed a crate and shuffled forward, muscles bulging in their arms. They set the box at Josef’s feet, and one grabbed a mini crowbar from his back pocket to pry the top off.

  Josef stepped forward and knelt. He reached a hand in and pulled a handful of straw from inside and tossed it out.

  Several handfuls later, he stuck both hands in and came out with an AK.

  Haley’s stomach clenched as he examined the weapon, then pulled it to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. There was nothing in the chamber, but even the loud click sounded ominous in the otherwise quiet night.

  “Looks good,” he said. “All those the same thing?”

  “You’re welcome to look.”

  “Don’t mind if we do,” Josef said. He turned back and motioned for his own men to join him. “Open these up, and make sure they’re all there.”

  Haley watched as the four men spread out to the two stacks of crates and started opening and checking contents. The process took half an hour, and her muscles were beginning to ache. The gun dug painfully into her stomach. But more concerning was the fact that she had no idea how much longer she had before Bradley would send in the ambulance.

  Finally, the last crate had been checked, and the men started hauling the boxes toward the trucks.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Josef said, holding out a hand for Vlad. “Let me get the cash.”

  The Russian took it in a massive paw, and Josef winced. Haley was sure she could hear the bones crack.

  “Just get me the woman and her kid,” Vlad said. “I want them alive. Not another picture.”

  Josef nodded and started back toward his own car.

  Suddenly, everyone froze as the wail of sirens slowly filled the air.

  Vlad and Josef looked at one another, the unspoken question lingering between them.

  If they decided that to put down the threat together, whoever Bradley sent was dead.

  Haley rolled sideways and drew the Glock. She didn’t bother aiming but just pulled the trigger twice.

  The shots sparked off the ground at Vlad’s feet. There was a clang as a bullet hit the van and a scream as the other clipped one of the blonde meatheads.

  The street devolved into a war zone. Vlad jumped back, screaming in Russian, while Josef did the same, but in Spanish.

  The third van’s side door slid open, and three men in body armor leaped out, rifles raised.

  Behind her, the headlights flicked on, and engines roared. Haley pressed herself against the wall, trying to scoot back and cover her head with her hands as if it would help if a bullet had her name on it.

  The DS reinforcements screeched to a stop, one nearly running her over as they cut the corner. Four men from each car sprang out, and while they didn’t have the automatic weaponry, they made up for it with numbers.

  Josef abandoned his ride and ran hunched, back toward the trucks. Gunfire exploded from both sides, and the sounds of screams and metal-on-metal impacts bounced off the brick walls on either side.

  Men started to fall on both sides, but the automatic weapons and armor of the Volkags seemed to be tipping the balance in their favor.

  Haley only saw one body on the Volkag side, and all three vans seemed operational, if pockmarked with bullet holes.

  But both pickup trucks had flat tires, and at least three of the men were down. Two screamed and writhed in pain, but one was motionless.

  The remaining men were trying to pile back into the cars and retreat, but another went down as he tried to get in the back seat.

  Sensing their advantage, the three Volkags in armor started advancing, using Josef’s car to cover their advance.

  Then Josef vaulted into the back of one of the pickup trucks. Haley’s eyes went wide as he snatched a grenade from the explosives box, stood, and in one fluid motion pulled the pin and lobbed it at the Russians.

  The Volkags were so busy concentrating on the other DS gunmen they didn’t see the grenade bounce toward them.

  It hit the pavement twice, then rolled under the car.

  The whole street turned from night to day as the grenade
detonated.

  Right under the gas tank.

  Three black bodies were thrown backward and landed with a wet thud. Bits of shrapnel pelted the walls, cars, and exposed bits of flesh. Two more DS gang members fell, but so did three other Volkags.

  Josef threw two more grenades towards the vans, but the Volkags were already falling back.

  One grenade landed between the vans and the blazing wreckage. It went off with a bang and another hail of shrapnel, but no new screams.

  Josef put more muscle behind the second grenade, and it flew true and landed inside the van where the armored men had retreated.

  One of the Volkags had been trying to start the van but must have heard the grenade bounce in the back, because the driver’s door popped open.

  Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have time to get out before it exploded.

  Josef surveyed the wreckage, then his own men.

  “Vámonos!” he yelled. He jumped down from the bed of the truck and ran toward the retreating Volkags. All four of his remaining men ran with him, leaving several bodies and at least three wounded behind.

  Haley watched them go as they sprinted past. There were a few other gunshots, but other than the moans of the injured men and the crackling pops of the automotive bonfires, the night was quiet.

  The sirens didn’t seem to be getting louder. If Bradley had only sent an ambulance like they’d planned, they had probably decided to call for backup when the street turned into a war zone.

  Haley got up and crept forward. All six vehicles that weren’t on fire had at least one flat. The Volkag vans were still blocking the street, but since the one on the far right was now burning, Haley doubted anyone would try to squeeze past.

  She bit her lip, if she could delay Josef and his goons from coming back, maybe there would be enough cops to fend them off.

  She rushed to car closest to her, a beat-up Lincoln, and pulled the man in the backseat out and dropped him roughly on the ground.

  He cursed her in Spanish. Or at least she assumed it was a curse.

  “You’d rather be here,” she said. “Trust me.”

  Next, she climbed into the bed of the truck where Josef had the grenades and grabbed three out of the straw in the crate before returning to the car.

  It was still running, so she got in the driver’s seat and pressed the accelerator. The vehicle lurched forward, the metal rim of the blown tire grinding on the pavement.

  Haley guided it around Josef’s car and stopped. She ran back and grabbed a heavier garbage bag from her safe haven and threw it in the driver’s well.

  Her luck turned, and the bag pressed down on the gas.

  The car lurched forward. The brake must have been partially engaged because there was a grinding sound, but the car kept moving.

  Haley’s aim was true, and it hit the front quarter panel of one of the vans, which pushed it into the back panel of the other, sealing off the gap between. Haley pulled the pin on the grenades and tossed them into vans before sprinting back.

  She was almost around the corner when they exploded. The concussion of the explosion hit her hard enough to send her staggering forward. Bits of shrapnel flew past, one burning through her bicep, but most seemed contained in the van itself.

  Haley swore and leaned back against the brick. The cut hurt worse than she would’ve expected, but she gritted her teeth and tore a strip off her already-ruined shirt to make a makeshift bandage.

  Haley tried to breathe but everything hurt. She knew she should have gotten up and run towards the sirens, but she could barely hear them and didn’t know if she had the strength.

  “Haley!”

  Josef’s voice was easily heard over the burning cars.

  “Haley,” he yelled again. “I know this was you. Where are you?”

  Against her better judgment, she held out her right arm and gave him the finger around the building.

  “You realize what you’ve started?” Josef continued.

  “You were going to start it anyway,” she called back.

  She shifted so she could see around the corner.

  He was standing on the other side of the infernal barricade she’d created. Two others were next to him.

  “We could have made a good team,” he said. “We still can.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Vlad just told me who really killed my dad,” he said. “The Volkags knew the Coast Guard was coming so they leaked the information to our crew so the Feds would take care of us for them.”

  “He told you that, did he?” Haley said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I want to get the people really responsible. Just come out here, and we’ll talk.”

  Haley laughed.

  “I’m good where I’m at,” she said.

  “Come on,” he pressed. “No one else needs to die.”

  “Why does it sound like they will though?” she said. “We could have worked together, but you made your bed.”

  Josef’s face twisted in the flickering light. “I’m going to kill you,” he said. His tone had shifted from amicable to ugly. “You, your brat, Dana, Hector. I’m going to do to your family, what you did to mine. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “I didn’t make you a pirate,” she snapped. “I didn’t force your father aboard that ship.”

  “You only set us up to die.”

  The sirens finally started getting louder. Haley turned back and saw a line of blue and red lights growing larger as they raced down the street Josef had initially come from.

  “Let it go,” Haley said, turning back to him. “You’re going to have the Volkags and the Feds breathing down your neck.”

  “I’ll make time for you,” he said.

  The brick next to her head exploded as three gunshots rang out.

  Haley huddled against the dumpster, half expecting a grenade to roll around the corner.

  But nothing happened.

  Instead, she sat, heart pounding, listening to the sirens grow to a crescendo that ended with the squealing of tires, pounding of boots, and shouting of officers.

  Men and women in blue swarmed out of three squad cars, guns drawn. They started checking the downed DS men, restraining the injured, and checking the pulses of the dead.

  They completed their sweep, and one saw Haley as he turned back toward his car.

  “I’ve got one here,” he yelled.

  Holstering his weapon, the man knelt beside her, palms out.

  “You OK?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Your arm?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just help me up.”

  She held out her good arm, and she let him pull her to her feet.

  “I need to find my son,” she said.

  She tried to take a step forward, but her leg gave out.

  The officer caught her.

  “We’ll find him,” he said. “But you need a paramedic.”

  “I’ll be OK,” she said.

  “No, you won’t.”

  Haley’s head snapped over at Bradley’s voice. He held up a badge and moved to Haley’s other side.

  “I’ll take her from here,” he told the officer.

  The man nodded and stepped back.

  “Did you find Josef?” Haley asked.

  “We’re tracking him now,” Bradley said. “He’s right though, you need medical attention.”

  “If he gets away, Jacob is dead.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Bradley said. “I’ve got a few friends in the Marshals. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  “No.”

  “They’ve dealt with worse than some punk with a gun,” Bradley said.

  “I don’t care,” Haley snapped. “I’m not taking that chance.”

  Bradley sighed. “I really didn’t want to have to do this,” he said.

  Before Haley could ask what he meant, metal pressed over her wrists and clicked tight.

  “What are you doing?
” she screamed.

  “Helping you even though you’re too stubborn to help yourself.”

  “You’re going to get us killed.”

  “The Marshals will be able to protect you better than you can protect yourself.”

  Haley glared at him. “You’re not invited to my funeral.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Haley was numb, but not from the drugs.

  People flowed around her in a blur. She remembered the medics saying something about fluids and shock, but she didn’t care.

  Bradley had called Dana, and she was on her way to get Jacob. But for once Haley didn’t want her son anywhere near her.

  Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, and if not for the metal biting into her wrist where Bradley had cuffed her to the gurney, she may have been tempted to drift off as she lay on the relatively comfortable, if thin, mattress. Bradley hovered nearby, but after she’d refused to talk to him for the third time, he’d seemed to get the hint and kept his distance.

  Firefighters were still working to control the raging fires that had consumed the vehicles, and police were holding reporters and onlookers back. Haley belatedly realized that she should have hidden her face from the cameras, but she was too tired to think that far ahead.

  Bradley appeared at her side again.

  “I’ve got someone here to talk to you,” he said, holding his phone out to her.

  “I plead the Fifth.”

  Bradley raised the phone, more insistent.

  Haley jingled the links of the handcuff.

  “Can’t reach.”

  “Would you stop being a brat?” he snapped. “It’s Jacob.”

  Haley’s jaw dropped, but she grabbed the phone and unmuted the call.

  “Baby?”

  “Mommy!”

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s so good to hear your voice. Where are you?”

  “With Daddy and Aunt Dana,” he said. “Where are you?”

  She hesitated, looking around at the chaos and carnage. The police had taken the wounded DS members to the hospital and put black tarps over the bodies.