by Robert Boren
“Toward 8th Street. Theaters there. Maybe we see entourage.”
“Maybe they see us too,” Mr. White said. “Hurry. Hear siren? Probably NYPD coming to save Juniors from mad Bulgarians.”
Mr. Black snickered. “If UN thugs worth money, they follow us. Nobody come out of restaurant yet.”
“Watch, though, maybe friends around,” Mr. White said. “Let’s move.” They sped up down the street, getting to 8th Street and crossing over, then slowly coming back up, eyes peeled, lingering behind trucks for a moment to slow themselves down.
“Hey, Starbucks next to Marriot,” Mr. Black said. “Go there.”
Mr. White nodded. “Good idea. View down Schubert Alley. I expect Mateo to come down there.”
“Cops at Juniors now. Hurry, before UN pigs lead them outside to find us.”
The two men ducked into the Starbucks, getting quickly into line, Mr. Black looking around at the half-full store. “I go to restroom. Order me black drip coffee, small.”
Mr. White nodded, watching him go down the rear hallway to the restrooms, then focusing out the windows. The police were out on the sidewalk with Carl, looking up and down the street. They glanced at the Starbucks but didn’t cross over. Then there was more commotion, as a group of people walked to the entrance, Mateo among them. Carl approached, whispering in his ear. Mateo looked at him, then at the police, having a brief chat with one of the officers. After a moment the cops got into their car and left.
“What can I get you, sir?” asked the young barista behind the counter, snapping him out of his gaze.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, looking at her pretty face. “You actress, I bet.”
She smiled. “Well, trying, at least. What can I get for you?”
“Two tall drip please.”
“Room for cream?”
Mr. Black nodded yes, catching Mr. White slipping out of the restroom. The barista turned, drawing the two cups and capping them, sliding them across the counter. Mr. Black handed her a twenty. “Keep change. Good luck with career. Hope I see name in lights someday.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said, smiling at him.
He picked up the coffees and moved to a small table with a good view of the street, Mr. White joining him.
“Nice barista,” Mr. Black said. “They arrive. Mateo talk to NYPD, they leave.”
“How many with him?”
Mr. Black took a sip of his coffee. “Six friends, two body-guards. Maybe more out on street, further away, watching scene.”
“We split up, no?” Mr. White asked.
“Yes, I stay here, you go down Schubert Alley and find place to watch. Find operatives on street.”
Mr. White nodded. “Might be none, but I check. Remember what boss said. No suicide mission. If we can’t hit, we follow, learn more, hit later.” He slipped out the door, getting back across the street, going down Schubert Alley.
***
The private jet landed, Sam jerking awake, Erica stirring next to him. “We made it, honey.”
Erica’s eyes opened, and she smiled at him, sitting up straighter. “These are the best airplane seats I’ve ever sat on.”
“Yes, this is a nice piece of hardware,” Malcolm said from across the aisle. “Total luxury.”
The plane taxied off the runway of the small airport, pulling up in front of a hangar, the Samson Corporation logo above the main door, which rolled open. A crew brought up a tow vehicle, hooked it to the front of the plane, and pulled it inside. The sun was just coming up.
“Welcome to Gillespie Field,” Gregg said as he walked out of the cockpit. “Hope you all got some sleep.”
“These seats are amazing,” Heidi said.
Erica nodded in agreement. “Seriously.”
“Your vehicles are waiting for you in the hangar, along with some weapons. I trust you’ll know which team gets which vehicle.”
George nodded to Gregg. He went to the door and pushed a button, standing back to watch it open.
“Warmer here,” Erica said, getting up, Sam following her to the door. They went down the steps, Malcolm, George, and Heidi following them.
“There’s the replica of Sid’s Jeep,” Sam said. “Missing the bullet holes. Hope that isn’t a tip-off.”
“They won’t know that much,” George said. “C’mon.”
They walked over to the vehicles, the Yellow Wrangler CJ and a newer black Wrangler JK. There was a crate between them, which George opened. Inside were M-4s and a couple M60s, also some grenades, a couple smoke bombs, and ammunition.
“Well, this ought to do it,” Malcolm said, eyeing the weapons. “When is the tip going to get released?”
“It’ll be in the drop box,” Sam said. “We should check before we take off.”
“Doing that now,” George said, looking at his phone. “There’s a message waiting.” He downloaded it as the others put gear into the vehicles.
“This is gonna happen fast,” Heidi said, reading off George’s phone screen. “They leaked the Steely’s location at the saloon late last night.”
Sam chuckled. “That means it’ll be all over Dodge City by now.”
“Are there places to hide at your RV Park?” George asked.
“Yep, and Garrett’s cavalry is still patrolling, but none of us are expecting company there.”
“I wouldn’t rule out action at both of them,” Malcolm said. “The plant might be coordinating the leaked information with good-old fashioned tailing of Sid and Yvonne as they leave Dodge City. We need to keep that in mind.”
“We’ll be ready at both places,” Sam said. “What time are Sid and Yvonne leaving?”
“We need to upload a message that we’re leaving the airport,” George said. “That’ll start the clock running. Sid and Yvonne will be leaving shortly after they get that word.”
“Do it,” Sam said.
George nodded, typing the message and sending it. “We wait for a reply, right?”
“I would,” Malcolm said, “but we can load up and be ready to go.”
“Chomping at the bit a little,” Heidi said.
“This is a small job that we need to get out of the way quickly,” Malcolm said. “The real targets are the principals, and they’re trying to escape as we speak. I’m worried about nailing that UN lead before he gets away.”
“Mateo,” Sam said. “I hate that creep. He’s got blood on both hands and all the way up his arms.”
George’s phone dinged. “Reply in.” He read it. “We can take off now.”
Sam smiled. “Excellent, let’s get the hell out of here.”
***
The train rolled along, heading north from London. Langston and Creighton sat in a private coach.
“We’d better not get caught,” Langston said. “It’ll be my career.”
“If we don’t do something about this, it’ll be our country,” Creighton said. “You know it. We should’ve brought in some of the others. Simon gets it.”
“He’s always the outlier. Russell and Trent tolerate him, but barely.”
“I picked that up,” Creighton said. “I hate Manchester. You sure this is the most likely?”
“Oh, forgot to tell you. There was a rather interesting event at the airport overnight.”
“Do tell. Details?”
“Two officials from Charles Livingston’s firm got detained. They were released eventually, but we’ve got a record of it.”
“How often do they show up around Manchester?” Creighton asked.
“More often than you’d expect, which is why it didn’t raise red flags. There’s a subsidiary of Livingston’s firm located in town.”
Creighton shrugged. “That was enough to send us to this God-forsaken corner of the realm?”
Langston chuckled. “It gets better. There was also a limo that busted out of an airport gate, after the authorities tried to stop it for a search. The local authorities were giving chase, but then it simply vanished.”
“How can a
limo vanish?” Creighton asked. “We’ve always got choppers nearby to bring into those situations.”
“Somebody disabled the choppers at the police yard.”
Creighton grinned at him. “It’s here.”
“Thought you’d be convinced. Not a word to anybody. Both our necks are on the chopping block with this one.”
Creighton snickered. “Do we get to do spy stuff?”
“Don’t make me sorry I brought you.”
They rolled along silently for a while, both thinking. Then Langston’s phone rang. He looked at it. “Bugger, it’s Russell. Keep quiet.”
Creighton nodded.
“Yes sir,” Langston asked.
“Who gave you permission to travel to Manchester?”
“Just following up on a hunch, sir,” Langston said.
“Creighton is out of the office too. I suspect he’s with you.”
Langston’s brow furrowed. “He’s here, yes. We’re on the train. Want us to come back?”
“No, I want you to follow your hunch, and keep me informed. This is top secret. Make sure Creighton understands that. You’ve just put me in an insubordinate position.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Oh, knock it off,” Russell said. “I was actually planning to send you. Alone, though. We don’t need those wankers from Scotland Yard mucking things up.”
Langston snickered. “He’s a good man, sir. We’ve been following this. No need to get him up to speed.”
“Well, I’m making you responsible. Find out what you can. Don’t get caught. I’ll deny knowledge of this operation if you do. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” Langston said. “You were really going to send us? Why?”
“The House of Lords and the Royals have successfully squashed the truth about who died in that hospital bombing.”
“Dammit to hell,” Langston said. “We can’t let this stand.”
“We can’t, but I don’t want to get nailed stopping it.”
“I’m willing to risk my career over this,” Langston said. “The country is at stake, as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’m not just worried about our careers, so be very careful. We’ll talk soon. Keep a low profile, but let me know about everything you find. That’s an order. Use the restricted channel from now on. When folks realize that both you and Creighton are missing, they’ll put me under surveillance.”
“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”
“Talk to you soon, Langston.”
The call ended. Langston was white as a sheet.
“What’s wrong? Did you just get fired?”
“No. Russell was actually going to send us. Well, me, anyway. He’s not so keen on the Yard being involved.”
Creighton smiled. “The Yard isn’t involved. I’m on my own. Why do you look so nervous?”
“He just told me that our careers aren’t at stake.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
Langston looked him in the eye. “It’s our lives that are at stake.”
{ 9 }
Seventh Avenue
S am drove the Jeep, Erica in the passenger seat.
“Nervous?” she asked him, glancing over for a moment.
“I’ve been back a couple of times after the murders. Still might weigh on me a little bit. I am anxious to see Sid and Yvonne, though.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t let me forget to leave the gate open,” Sam said. “I got into the habit of locking it behind me.”
“How much land do you own there?”
“Three hundred acres,” he said. “Too much of it is ridges and valleys. Not buildable. There was barely enough flat ground there to squeeze in the RV buildings and spaces. On the good side, there are nice views everywhere.”
“How many spaces are there?”
“Eighty-four,” he said.
“Think you’ll ever do anything there again?”
Sam sighed. “I don’t know. Lost so many friends there, and Connie is all over it. I can’t live there anymore. Might be hard to sell, after what happened.”
“It was part of the war history.”
“True, sweetie, but it wasn’t an important base. They murdered the residents right after the first big battle we fought. It was gone before the reservation was overrun.”
“Oh. Not enough to capitalize on, then.”
“Not really.”
“You’re worried about this operation,” Erica said. “I can tell.”
“Yes, I am. I don’t think George and Malcolm should be taking this on by themselves. Everybody thinks those two are invincible, but no one really is.”
“We could hi-tail it over there if we have to, you know. Garrett seemed to think the cavalry could make it there too.”
Sam nodded. “The cavalry could get over there, and faster than we could. They can go as the crow flies. Not a bad ride at all. The road between the park and Dulzura twists and turns a lot more.”
They rode silently for a while, taking in the dry desert on either side of the road.
“At least there’s a little bit of traffic now,” Sam said as several cars went by them going the opposite direction.
“Things will get back to normal quickly.”
Sam glanced at her. “You think so? It worries me. I think we have some rough years ahead.”
“There will be problems here and there, of course. The tribe is gonna have a tough go of it, after the casino and hotel were leveled.”
“The park is coming up,” Sam said. “Up this little grade, and then we make a left.”
“Good. Think Sid will be there yet?”
“Doubt it, but if he is, he’ll be waiting at the gate. He doesn’t have a key. One thing. Be careful poking around. It’s possible these guys booby-trapped the place, like they did at the reservation.”
“I thought Garrett’s men were still patrolling.”
“They are, but I doubt they’re getting off their mounts and trying doors in the park. It’s liable to smell pretty bad by the clubhouse. I wouldn’t go over there.”
“Oh, yeah, they were dumping bodies in there,” she said. “You told me about that, way back when we first met.”
“On the long walk,” Sam said. “Fond memories.” He made the left turn into the driveway and parked in front of the gate, getting out to unlock it.
“No sign for the park out here?” Erica asked.
“We took down the sign when the first reports of enemy fighters started to circulate,” Sam said. “Why advertise?”
“I could see that”, she said, watching him try several keys, the padlock snapping open with the third one. Sam pulled the lock out of the hasp and swung the gate to the side of the road, then got back into the Jeep and rolled forward.
“This is weird,” Sam said.
Erica looked around as Sam drove. “Pretty in here.”
“Very secluded,” Sam said, his eyes tearing up as he looked around.
“Long driveway.”
“It’s almost a mile,” Sam said.
“Holy crap, what’s that?” she asked, pointing to a damaged military vehicle off the road to the left.
“Gaz Tigr that tried to come in here. We blasted it. There’s more stuff like that as we get closer.”
“Did this happen during the last attack?”
Sam shook his head. “No, we still controlled the place then. Got attacked here more than once, but we were able to put them down.”
They continued on, curving back and forth, and then they were at the inner gate, which hung open, broken on one side. The flag pole sat right inside the gate, the camera that Clem installed still attached to it, the office to the left, next to it the laundry room and the clubhouse. RVs sat in about a third of the spots, some with doors hanging open, most with flattened tires, some with broken windows.
“Geez, you can still see signs of the attack,” Erica said as Sam drove to the back. “Where are we going?”
“The Amphitheater. It’s got good cov
er and a good view. Sid and Yvonne will meet us there.”
“Where are Garrett’s men gonna meet us?”
“They won’t, they’ll just be around,” Sam said. “In the trees, along the hills on either side of the park. Scared the crap out of me the first time I saw them here.”
“You told me that story,” Erica said.
Sam parked around the back of the cement amphitheater structure, then got out and went to the back, taking out the weapons and loading them. Erica helped, her eyes darting around.
“I know, creeps you out, doesn’t it?” Sam asked. “This used to be a happy place. People came here for vacations and mixed with the full-timers. We put on talent shows back here, and had campfires when there weren’t no-burn orders.”
“Because of the droughts?”
Sam nodded. “Hear that?”
“Vehicle, coming in on the road. Hopefully it’s Sid and Yvonne.”
“Sounds like it, but stay sharp. Let’s get up there, behind those boulders. We can see the whole park from there, and it’s good cover in case we have to fight.”
“Lead the way, sweetie.”
The couple slinged their M4s, both of them grabbing a heavy M60 and climbing up the hill, over the well-worn path, getting up to the boulders with a little effort.
“Here they come,” Erica said, pointing to Sid and Yvonne’s battered Jeep CJ, cruising to the back, parking in front of the amphitheater so it’d be visible to intruders.
Sam stood up as Sid was looking, a wide grin washing over his face. Yvonne saw them too, and waved. They grabbed their weapons and climbed up.
“Sam, so good to see you,” Sid said, shaking hands with Sam and embracing. “I miss you something awful.”
“Me too,” Sam said, tears in his eyes. “Yvonne, how are you?”
“None the worse for wear,” she said. “Miss you guys.”
“How’s Mia?” Erica asked with a worried expression.
“Missing you every day,” Yvonne said, “but she’s adjusting okay. Anna and Garrett are doing a good job with her.”
“I miss her so,” Erica said.
“We’d best get behind this cover,” Sid said. “I know everybody expects the bad guys to go to Steely’s, but we’ve been fooled by this enemy more than once.”