by Victor Zugg
Sam came directly up to Tiff and Chet. “Glad to see you guys,” he whispered.
Martinez joined the small reunion. “What was the firing about?”
“Lance and Wanda were seen out front,” Sam whispered. “They were pursued by five men wearing tactical gear. They fired when Lance and Wanda ran behind the building and into the woods.”
“Were they hit?” Martinez asked.
“Came close,” Lance said, from the darkness behind Sam. “We were lucky.”
“So what’s the story?” Chet asked. “Same plan? Tiff filled me in on the way.”
“Mostly,” Sam said. “The guy in charge ordered that no one exit by the back door. It’s locked with a deadbolt.”
“I saw you open a locked door with your pocket knife and a paper clip on the way up from Florida,” Tiff said. “Can you do it again?”
“I could try,” Sam said, “if I had a paperclip. Still have the pocket knife, but I would need some kind of thin flexible wire.”
“Fresh out of paperclips,” Martinez said.
“I figured,” Sam said. “I still think a two-sided attack is the most feasible, front and back.”
“Just blow the deadbolt apart once the shooting starts from the front,” Chet said. “If they open up from inside to return fire out the front, they may not even hear the bang from the rear.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Sam said.
“Okay, how do we divvy up the men?” Martinez asked. “I brought two officers and four additional men.”
Chet cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.
Ever the diplomat, Tiff thought. “I recommend we put the four extra guys out front with the chief to start the party.”
“I like that,” Sam said. “Except I’d like to include Lance, Wanda, Hank, and the two officers out front for a little extra firepower.”
“That leaves you, me, Tiff, and Bill going in the rear,” Chet said.
“So that’s ten out front and four going in the rear,” Martinez said.
“We know there will be extra men showing up in the morning,” Sam said. “Heard a couple of guys talking out back before the gunfire.”
“How many?” Martinez asked.
“Don’t know,” Sam said. “But I saw ten pull out yesterday. I’d expect that many to return. Plus some guy named Frank.”
“What time?” Martinez asked.
“Don’t know that either,” Sam said. “But I’d recommend we start the festivities as soon as that front cargo door goes up. Deal with the extra men if and when they show up.”
“Probably first light,” Tiff said. “You said they can’t exit from the back. They’ll need to pee, so I would expect that door to go up early.”
“We need to take up our positions now, under cover of darkness,” Chet said. “Maybe we can even get a couple hours of sleep.”
“One more question,” Martinez said. “Are we shooting to hit or miss?”
“If you guys out front shoot to miss,” Chet said, “we’ll miss the opportunity to cull some of their numbers.”
“Opening up on them like that would almost be murder,” Martinez said. “I can’t go along with that. I’ll shoot to hit only if I’m defending myself or someone else.”
“What if they shoot at you from that doorway?” Chet asked.
“If I’m taking fire, I’ll return fire,” Martinez said. “But I won’t start this by shooting to kill first.”
“Fair enough,” Sam said. “If we can catch them off guard from the rear, maybe they’ll give up quickly.”
Tiff couldn’t see, but she heard Martinez ruffling through a rucksack. “By the way,” he said, “I brought plenty of zip ties.”
“Let me have some of those now,” Chet said.
“Hopefully, we’ll need them,” Sam said.
Martinez handed zip ties to Sam, Chet, Tiff, and Bill. “Okay then, I guess we head out,” Martinez said. “The ten of us will be inside the tree line in front of the building. When the cargo door goes up, we start firing.”
“There’s abandoned vehicles in the parking lot,” Sam said. “You should be able to move up behind cover.”
“Be sure to protect your flanks,” Chet said. “And conserve your ammo.”
“And stay hidden working your way around,” Sam said. “We don’t want this thing to go off early. But we’re going in as soon as we hear the first shot, whatever time that is.”
“Will do,” Martinez said. He turned and started whispering names, assembled his group, and moved off through the woods to the west.
“Let’s move back down to the door,” Sam said, after Martinez and his men were out of ear shot. “And like Chet said, we can take turns getting some sleep.”
CHAPTER 6
Sam felt a nudge on his boot and blinked his eyes open. The details of the woods were a couple of shades lighter with the early morning sun just beginning to filter through the trees. He glanced over at Chet leaning against the adjacent tree and saw him raise an eyebrow. Sam nodded and then looked over to Tiff and Bill. Both were still sleeping. Tiff purred while Bill exhaled a low growl with each breath. Not really a snore, but close.
Sam took a moment to absorb his surroundings. He listened to birds chirping and squirrels rummaging through the leaves nearby. There was no breeze, and it was already warm. It was going to be another hot day. Other than the animal noises, the place was quiet.
Sam reached into his pants cargo pocket and retrieved the half empty bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and drained the bottle into his upturned mouth. Despite drinking very little water the day before, he still felt the need to pee. He tried to wipe the grogginess from his mind as he shifted and got to his feet. Chet stood up next to him.
“How long did I sleep?” Sam whispered.
“You were out—probably two or three hours.”
“How about you?”
“Same.”
Sam rubbed his full face with one hand and then massaged the muscles and tendons in his neck as he stepped a few feet away and urinated.
Tiff and Bill stirred when he returned to the group.
“Anything happening?” Tiff asked, as she reclined against the large oak.
“Nothing, but that could change anytime,” Sam said.
“Should probably do a gear check and get ready,” Chet said.
Bill got to his feet, walked a few feet away, and ducked behind a bush.
Tiff got to her feet and did the same.
A couple of minutes later everyone reconvened and began checking their gear.
Sam pulled his thirty-round magazine from his rifle, checked to make sure it was topped off, and then reinserted the mag. He pulled his other three magazines from various pockets, pushed on the top round, and then returned them. He then pulled his M&P 9 from the holster on his hip, checked the magazine, and re-holstered the weapon.
Tiff, Chet, and Bill went through similar routines, took swigs of water, and then looked at Sam.
“Who shoots the door lock?” Bill asked.
“I’ll take care of that,” Chet said.
Sam nodded. “Let’s move closer to the tree line and the door.”
Everyone followed Sam as he stepped through the brush, until there were only a couple of feet of greenery between him and the service road. The pedestrian door was only a few feet beyond that.
Sam leaned against a tree to wait, rubbed his face again, and massaged his neck. He then took a two-hand hold of his rifle. He looked back at each person in his group to ensure they were ready. Satisfied, he turned back, peered at the door, and then up and down the service road. Sam suddenly had a thought. What if the relatively light 5.56 round from Chet’s rifle failed to blast open the deadbolt on the door? What if it took several rounds? What if the door did not open?
“Are we sure a bullet or two will open the door?” he asked everyone, in general.
“It’s a little late to worry about that,” Tiff said.
“It’ll open,” Chet sa
id. “Have faith, my child.”
Sam looked around at Chet with a smirk.
Suddenly, the sound of the deadbolt turning grabbed Sam’s attention. He jerked his head back and raised the barrel of his rifle.
The door opened and two men, boys really, young, in their teens, stepped out. Neither wore tactical gear, and neither was armed.
Sam, realizing his group was pretty much in the open anyhow, rushed forward, catching the two teens completely unaware until four rifle barrels were only inches from their faces. In both cases, their chins dropped, and their hands slowly went up as they froze. They then glanced at each other and then back to Sam. Chet and Bill stepped forward, grabbed the two by their collars and pulled them away from the door.
“Don’t say a word,” Chet whispered, “if you want to live.”
Both teens nodded.
Chet and Bill pushed the two into the woods at gun point until they were out of sight from the service road, and quickly zip-tied their hands behind their backs and around a tree. Chet then tore a strip of cloth from each of their shirts and gagged them.
Chet, followed by Bill, then rejoined Sam and Tiff still at the door. “That’s two down,” Chet whispered.
Sam nodded, faced the door opening, shouldered his rifle, and rushed through in a low crouch.
Tiff, Chet, and Bill bolted through the opening on his heels.
Inside, Sam was once again plunged into darkness, except for the shaft of light from the open door. Sam stopped, stepped back to the door and closed it. Now it was almost total darkness, except for a little light from small windows near the high ceiling. They gave off enough light for Sam to tell that the interior was a very large open-floor room crowded with pallets stacked high with merchandise ready to be shipped. Most of the pallets were still wrapped tight with clear plastic.
Sam, followed by the others, moved from pallet to pallet until they had eyes on the center of the floor and the overhead cargo doors on the south side of the building. Sam stopped next to a pallet stacked high with bags of something and pointed to several people to his left and right, all still sleeping on the floor. They had used stacks of collapsed cardboard boxes for padding.
He then saw a man dressed in tactical pants, shirt, and vest get up from his ‘bed’ to the right and walk toward the center overhead cargo door, directly in front of Sam, on the other side of the building. He leaned his rifle against the wall and then used both hands to pull a looped chain. The door went up as he pulled the chain.
With the door fully raised in the open position, the man stuck one of the chain links onto a hook on the wall, stepped to the center of the door, and looked out as he stretched his back. Light filled the area of the building in front of the bay.
Suddenly, a horrific barrage of gunfire rolled into existence from in front of the building. It sounded like all ten of Martinez’s men fired at nearly the same instant and then kept firing for several seconds. A couple of rounds hit the pallet of bags next to Sam, high above his head. Sam crouched lower.
The man in the cargo bay opening was not hit. He ducked, scrambled back to his rifle, and took cover behind the concrete block wall.
Seven men in dark tactical-looking garb and carrying rifles, including the fat man from the day before, jumped from their slumber and began working their way toward the open bay door. They took up positions on each side of the door and then began returning fire. The blasts filled the building with a deafening roar that brought Sam back to recent gun battles.
Sam motioned for Bill to join him and that they would work their way wide right, through the pallets. He motioned for Chet and Tiff to do the same to the left. This would flank the shooters from their rear and would also avoid the area directly in front of the open bay. Sam did not want to catch a stray bullet flying in from outside.
Sam motioned for everyone to move and then scrambled from pallet to pallet, taking advantage of the relative darkness on the back side of the building. At the third pallet, Sam surprised a man in a white T-shirt, hiding. The man stood up and went for a revolver holstered on his hip. Sam flipped his rifle around and clocked the man in the forehead before the revolver came up. Both the man and his revolver dropped to the floor.
The man was out cold. To be safe, Sam knelt, removed a zip tie from his cargo pocket, secured the man’s hands behind his back, and then tied his feet. Sam then stood, kicked the revolver farther back into the building, and dragged the man behind a pallet. Sam stood up and did some quick calculations in his head. He originally counted twenty-one people. Ten left in the two pickup trucks; eleven or more remained in the building. Two tied up out back. One on the floor at Sam’s feet and seven tactical guys at the open bay door. That left one, possibly more, unaccounted for.
Sam shouldered his rifle and continued forward in a crouch, working his way to the right as the gang members continued to exchange fire with the guys outside. Sweeping his rifle back and forth, Bill followed, occasionally turning to his rear.
Sam, followed closely by Bill, weaved around the various pallets as they made their way toward the west end of the building. Near the west wall, Sam rounded a large pallet and surprised a group of people taking cover. There was one man with a rifle, two women, and two boys, both around ten years old.
Bill immediately rushed past Sam and put his rifle barrel in the man’s face before he could react. Bill motioned for him to drop the rifle and kneel. The man did as directed.
One of the women put her arms around the two children and held them close, but the other woman rushed toward Sam spouting a line of obscenities that Sam could just barely hear over the sound of gunfire. Sam used the same tactic as before. He flipped his rifle around and tapped her on the forehead. She crumpled to the floor, out cold. The two children started crying.
Sam and Bill then proceeded to zip-tie everyone’s hands and feet, including the children. Sam did a quick search of everyone’s pockets for knives and came up with a large pocket knife from the man. Sam kicked the rifle farther back into the building and tossed the knife after it.
Sam and Bill continued along, rounding pallet after pallet, until they were at the west wall. Sam moved forward to the last pallet before the large opening that ran the length of the building. He peered down the line of pallets and finally caught sight of Chet at the far end of the building with his head poked out from around a pallet stacked high with bags.
Sam glanced back at Bill. “It appears Chet and Tiff are ready. Are you ready?”
Bill nodded.
“Watch our rear as we move forward.”
Bill nodded again.
Sam took a final survey up and down the building, shouldered his rifle, and stepped out.
The seven gangbangers were still busy, occupied with the firing from outside. Sam saw them switch positions back and forth from one side of the door to the other. None of them noticed Sam and Bill approaching from their right flank, slightly to their rear.
Sam could see Tiff and Chet, rifles shouldered, crouched, moving forward on the left flank at about the same pace as Sam.
When Sam was within thirty yards of the men he stopped. He checked Tiff and Chet to his left and Bill to his rear. He pulled his rifle snug against his shoulder, peered through the magnified sight, and opened up with a fifteen round barrage of rounds that landed left, top, and right of the gangbangers. The rounds plowed into a stack of wood pallets and pinged off the concrete wall. It got their attention.
All the men stopped firing and began turning to look over their shoulders.
At that moment, Chet opened up with a similar hail of gunfire that once again circled the men.
Firing from the outside ceased as Sam, Bill, Chet, and Tiff spread out behind the men with their rifles aimed for business.
One of the men swung his rifle up quickly and fired a round that missed Sam by a few inches.
Chet fired and cut the man down with two rounds center mass. The man dropped his rifle, clutched his chest, and fell back to the floor.
> The fat man that had talked to Sam and Tiff the day before slowly raised his right hand while he lowered his rifle to the floor with his left. He then glanced around at the others in his group and motioned for them to do the same.
“Slide your weapons out to the center,” Sam said. “Easy with the side arms.”
The men did as instructed.
Chet rushed forward with his rifle pointed at the fat man. “On your knees,” he yelled. “Do it now.”
The six men dropped to their knees with their hands behind their heads.
Tiff remained in the center of the floor and swept her rifle at a one-hundred eighty degree arc along the rear of the building.
Sam and Bill joined Chet and the three of them began zip-tying the men, all of whom glared at Sam.
“We never forget an injustice,” the talker from the day before said, still on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He then spit on the concrete floor in front of Sam.
The others nodded in unison as they looked at each other.
Chet walked up to the talker and put the sole of his boot on the man’s chest. He then shoved with his foot, pushing the man backwards to the floor. “We’ll certainly keep that in mind,” Chet said. “In the mean time, shut the hell up.”
Martinez and his two officers appeared in the open bay door with their rifles pointed at the men on their knees. “Anybody hit?” he asked.
“Just one,” Sam said. “One of them got off a round. We had to take him down.”
Martinez winced. He glanced at the bloody man on the floor, obviously dead.
“Any of your men hit?” Sam asked.
“One man creased in the arm,” Martinez said. “He’s fine.”
Martinez and the two officers jumped up and through the bay door and started helping with the zip ties until all hands and feet were secure.
Sam stood up and motioned for Martinez to follow him as he stepped a few feet away. “The rest of those guys from yesterday, at least ten, will be back any time. The guy in charge is apparently named Frank.”
“They’ll probably drive up like everything’s normal,” Martinez said.