by Tom Hunter
“Ha!” huffed Samuel. “If I were a psych, I’d ask you about your mother or how it makes you feel to lose yet another card game. Gin!”
He picked up the card that Josh had discarded, turning over the rest of his cards to reveal a winning hand.
“Not again!” groaned Josh, tossing his cards on the table in disgust. Samuel grinned as he gathered them up, shuffling them in preparation for another game.
“Haisam,” murmured Shafira, rolling over in her sleep.
Josh glanced over at her, an anxious frown wrinkling his forehead.
“You really care about her, don’t you?” Samuel observed.
“I’ve known Shafira since she was tiny,” Josh replied. “Over the years, she’s become a sort of protégé for me, almost like the daughter I’ve never had. Aside from the fact that her father and brother would kill me if anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself if I allowed it in the first place. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I have a problem with Waleed. I can’t shake the feeling he’s going to do something stupid that’ll get her hurt or killed. If that happens, I won’t be held responsible for what I do to him.”
“I know what you mean,” Samuel nodded, a strange expression flitting over his face as he looked over at Shafira. “There’s something truly special about that woman. It’s hard not to care about her.”
He sighed and collected the cards together from the table. “Another hand?” Samuel asked, as he started shuffling.
“Sure.”
Samuel began to deal a new hand. Josh sighed again when he saw the cards he’d been given.
“Ah well. I have a funny feeling you’re going to win this hand as well,” he remarked. “I only hope that Akhenaton is having better luck than I am tonight and Waleed isn’t doing something stupidly dangerous yet again.”
Thirteen
“Do you think your guns frighten us?” Akhenaton began, but Waleed shushed him.
“Just cool it, my friend,” he advised before turning to the men who had been following them for so long.
“I must apologize for my hot headed companion,” he said. “You’ll have to forgive his bad manners. It’s been a long day for both of us. He didn’t realize that we have found the very gentlemen who we seek.”
“Is that right?” The leader of the gang raised his eyebrows. “And what exactly would the likes of you want with us?”
“You look like the kind of people who would appreciate a good business deal.” Waleed ignored the threatening body language from the men facing them, keeping his tone light and conversational, as if they were discussing the stock market instead of looking for illegal weapons. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to walk away from a bargain when you see one.”
“Depends,” grunted the leader. “What kind of deal are we talking about here?”
Waleed pointed at the weapon slung by his side. “Exactly that. I can see from here that you have the kind of weaponry I’m after and I’m willing to pay a good price for as many handguns as you can spare.”
“Is that right?” sniffed the gangster. “And what makes you think we’ve got any guns to sell, let alone to a stranger?”
“Please, don’t play games with me, my friend.” Waleed shrugged expansively. “We are businessmen are we not? Let us not waste time pretending that you cannot supply me with what I need. Instead, let us get straight to determining a price that we can both be happy with. I like making my friends happy and I’m sure that by the time we say our goodbyes, you’ll be very satisfied with our transaction.”
“What’s to stop us just taking your money?” burst out one of the other men.
“Aside from my bodyguard, you mean?” Waleed indicated Akhenaton, who put on his best hard man face. “Don’t be fooled by his mild-mannered demeanor. He’ll snap your neck like a twig before you’re able to pull the trigger. But I don’t think we’ll need to go there, will we? You don’t strike me as the kind of people who want to risk future business deals by acting with such dishonor. Please, gentlemen. Stop wasting time and name your price so negotiations can begin.”
The gang huddled together, their whispered conversation impossible for Waleed and Akhenaton to make out.
“Snap their necks like twigs?” echoed Akhenaton, as Waleed calmly waited for the gang to make their decision. “Where did that come from?”
“These are the kind of people who appreciate a little artistic flair,” Waleed replied out of the side of his mouth. “Now stop talking and remain calm. Any moment now they’ll make us an offer and then the fun will really begin.”
As if on cue, the gang broke away from their conversation.
“All right. You don’t look like police,” conceded the leader. “We can supply you with what you want–as long as you have the cash.”
Waleed snorted. “Do I look like the kind of man who wouldn’t have the money to buy what he needs?” He took his backpack off his shoulder, opening it a little to show the bundles of notes inside. “Don’t worry. I have all the funds I need, but I’m not going to give you a single cent until you show us that you’ve got the goods. I’d like to believe we’re all honorable businessmen here, but you can never be too careful. Besides, I need the protection for my next job. Every minute we waste standing around here discussing trivial concerns is more time wasted when I have important things to do. If you would prefer to talk than get on with things, perhaps you are not the right people for me to be dealing with after all.”
Akhenaton shot Waleed a warning glance, but the crook appeared not to notice. He casually closed up the backpack and slung it over his shoulder again.
“Perhaps we’re not.” The gang leader shrugged, calling Waleed’s bluff. “If you are what you claim to be, you’d understand our need for caution.”
“Oh, I completely appreciate why you would want to take care,” Waleed reassured him. “After all, we are only recently acquainted. But I’m on a deadline here.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if he didn’t want Akhenaton to overhear. “Between you and me, if I don’t get back to my boss with his cut, there’ll be serious trouble. I was running a deal for him earlier, but we ran into some heat, so I had to toss my guns in case the cops hauled us in for questioning. As it turned out, I was a little premature in my precautions and now I need backup for myself and my guard if we’re to recover the money owed to my boss. That’s why I’m willing to pay a premium for your goods, but I’m going to have to insist we close the deal now or I’ll be forced to go elsewhere. I’m sure there are other businessmen in this town who will appreciate what I have to offer.”
The gang leader stared at him for a moment, before turning his head and spitting out a large wad of chewing tobacco. “Follow me. I don’t carry what you’re looking for, but I can take you to where you can get them.” He motioned to Waleed and Akhenaton to go after him.
“Are you sure about this?” Akhenaton whispered, as Waleed made to follow the gang.
“I told you before. You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing,” Waleed replied. “Stay cool and this will be over before you know it.”
Noticing their exchange, the gang leader frowned. “Are you sure you’ve got a handle on your bodyguard?” he asked. “He seems very twitchy for someone allegedly so experienced.”
“He’s fine,” Waleed replied. “I told you. We’ve had a rough day.”
“So that’s why you’re allowing him to be so insolent,” jeered another gangster.
“You’re right. He has overstepped the mark.” Waleed sighed. Without warning, he suddenly backhanded Akhenaton as hard as he could, causing the Knight to step back, clutching his cheek, in outright surprise.
“Let that be a lesson to you,” Waleed snarled. “These fine gentlemen have better things to do than listen to your whining. Don’t make me report you.”
“Yes, sir.” Akhenaton bowed his head to hide the flash of anger in his eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
He pulled himself up, as the gang started walking away, not bothering to ch
eck if they were following.
“Report me?!” he whispered to Waleed, who simply shrugged in reply.
Waleed and Akhenaton followed the gang through a number of alleyways, each looking more derelict than the last, until they came to a nondescript building. It appeared to be just like all the others, but a careful observer would have noticed the CCTV cameras mounted on the walls, providing cover for all angles around the house. An old man smoking a hookah pipe sat outside, side-eying the two men as they followed the gang members through the open doorway and into the depths of the hovel.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” quipped Waleed, taking in the cracked walls and large tear in the couch upholstery. Drug paraphernalia littered the table in the middle of the room, rounded off with a large bag of weed.
The gang leader pointed to a couple of handguns lying on the table among assault weapons and rifles.
“Is that what you’re looking for?” he asked.
“That will do nicely,” nodded Waleed, picking up the guns and inspecting them.
“Three thousand US dollars for the pair,” the gang leader told them.
“Three thousand dollars?” gasped Akhenaton. “There’s no way they’re worth that much.”
“Enough!” snapped Waleed. “It is not for you to question my business transactions. Or do I need to teach you another lesson?” He raised his hand and Akhenaton shrank away.
Lowering his arm, Waleed turned to the gang leader. “Nevertheless, my bodyguard has a point. These are very basic weapons. They haven’t even been particularly well maintained. I couldn’t possible give you more than a thousand for them.”
“A thousand?” laughed the gang leader. “Why are you wasting my time? I thought you were in a hurry.”
“I suppose I could go up to a thousand five hundred,” Waleed conceded. “But even with our urgent need, that’s paying too much.”
“I’ll accept two thousand and not a cent less,” shrugged the gang leader. “Take it or leave it.”
Waleed thought for a moment before tucking the guns into his waistband and reluctantly taking his backpack off. “Very well. We’ll take it. You’ll find exactly two thousand dollars in there, so there’s no need to count it.”
“I will anyway.”
Just as the man started to unhook the closures on the backpack, one of his flunkies came racing into the room.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem,” he gasped. “There’s a load of police gathering outside. The CCTV shows that they’re armed and prepared for a fight. We’re being raided!”
“The police?” The gang leader cursed. “This is your fault. You lead them here! I knew I should never have trusted you. Get them!”
“Akhenaton! Get us out of here!” shouted Waleed, reaching over to snatch his backpack from the crook. Glancing down at the table, he grabbed the bag of weed he’d seen earlier before flipping the table up at the man he’d just robbed, as they made their escape.
Fourteen
“Men! Get the traitors!” yelled the gang leader, as he struggled to get out from under the table. Scrabbling about the floor, he tried to gather together the guns and cash that had been strewn about the room when Waleed attacked him. He didn’t want to leave anything behind for the police to confiscate.
“Akhenaton! Find us a way out of here!” cried Waleed in panic, seeing that they were running out of options, as the two men dashed through the house, desperate to find an escape route.
“In there.” Akhenaton pointed to the kitchen, where the gang members were all heading, ignoring their leader’s orders to catch Waleed and Akhenaton. One of them threw back a rug on the floor to reveal a trapdoor.
Opening up the trapdoor revealed a secret tunnel leading to who knew where. The gang members poured down a ladder, and into the depths, desperate to escape.
“What do you think?” asked Akhenaton, peering down into the tunnel. “Should we go after them? What if they ambush us? We’ll be sitting ducks.”
Waleed shrugged. “We don’t really have any choice, do we? There’s no other way out of here. We can’t risk getting arrested.”
Akhenaton rushed forward and started climbing down the ladder into the tunnel. Waleed was about to follow him when a thought occurred to him. He raced over to the kitchen stove. Picking up a handful of ammunition belts from the counter, he threw them on the stove, turning it on. He added more ammunition to guarantee an impressive display, and then went down the ladder after Akhenaton.
BOOM!
Just as the police started to break down the doors to the gang house, the ammunition caught fire, setting off a lethal fireworks display that shredded the walls, sending deadly shrapnel out of the building and at the police.
The escaping criminals all ducked instinctively as the tunnel shuddered and shook. Dust fell down from the ceiling, but the structure remained sound. Waleed reached out and pulled shut the trapdoor, ramming home the bolt on the underside.
“Phew!” Waleed grinned at Akhenaton as the two men hurried down the corridor, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the police as possible. “That was a close one.”
Click!
The two men froze at the sound of a gun. Ahead of them, the remaining gang members who’d gone down the tunnel had turned to wait for them. One of them had a semi-automatic gun pointed directly at Waleed.
“This is all your fault,” he snarled. “I knew you weren’t to be trusted. You were the ones who brought the police to our door. We were fine before you came along. Admit it: you’re undercover agents. You might as well be honest now. You’ll never leave these tunnels alive.”
“Don’t do anything hasty here,” babbled Waleed, holding his hands up in surrender. “We’re on the same side, you and us. We hate the police as much as you do. If I was with them, would I have set a trap with the ammunition? It probably shredded the pigs who were in there.”
“You’ve destroyed our house!” cried another gangster. “And you will pay for it, in blood.”
“If you kill us, you’ll only be doing the police’s job for them,” pleaded Waleed as the man with a gun walked menacingly towards him, weapon aimed straight at his head.
Suddenly, Akhenaton whirled round, his roundhouse kick hitting the man squarely in the stomach. He dropped his gun, as he tumbled back into the rest of the gang. There was little room to manoeuver, and the men tumbled to the ground like pins hit by a bowling ball. Never one to miss an opportunity, Waleed dashed forward, scooping up the automatic weapon, pointing it at the fallen man. The gang stopped mid-way through their attempts to spring back to their feet, their eyes fixed on the barrel of Waleed’s gun.
“Not so brave now, are we?” grinned Waleed. Pulling the trigger, he sprayed the walls and ceiling of the tunnel with gunfire. His attackers attempted to scramble to their feet, falling backwards in their blind panic. As the deafening sound filled the air, and the atmosphere filled with earth dislodged by the bullets, they managed to propel themselves away, into the darkness. However, the tunnel, not exactly an example of exemplary construction in the first place, started to collapse. A large chunk of dirt fell from the ceiling, followed by a cascading mound of stone and rubble, cutting off the gangsters from Waleed and Akhenaton.
“What are you doing?” gasped Akhenaton. “Are you nuts? We’ll be trapped, sitting ducks waiting for the police to show up.”
“Au contraire, my friend.” Waleed pointed up to where a fist sized hole had been formed in the ceiling, revealing a glimpse of the sky. Firing the gun again in short bursts, more and more dirt fell down as the hole widened.
Waleed and Akhenaton scrambled up the mound of rubble, climbing out of the crevice and out into the city streets. The illumination from the house fire made the night as bright as day.
“Be careful,” Waleed made a shushing motion with his hands, pointing to the police in front of them. Fortunately for the two men, the noise of the cave-in had been covered by the wailing sirens, as fire trucks began to show up, s
peeding in from all directions.
As the fire spread to more ammunition stores, more lethal firecrackers went off. “Fall back! Fall back!” the police officers cried, hastily retreating from the flying shrapnel.
Waleed and Akhenaton crept away, their disheveled appearance attracting more than a few curious glances. Noticing that they were the subject of attention, Waleed, bent his head forward, putting up his hand to try and conceal his features.
“We need to get to the rendezvous point as quickly as possible,” he advised. “We’re going to have to get everyone out of town before the gang or the police try to find us.”
“I don’t know which would be worse,” agreed Akhenaton. “Either way, we need to leave.” The pair hurried into the city streets, back towards their hotel.
Fifteen
“Is this it?” Waleed’s heart sank as he gazed up at the unassuming hotel the others were staying in. “Couldn’t they have found somewhere a little more upmarket, or at least somewhere that doesn’t look riddled with bedbugs?”
“Be grateful to have a bed at all. Plenty of people don’t,” Akhenaton remarked as he strode towards the reception area. “Not that we’re going to be able to stay here long enough to get any rest. We need to get out of town before we’re found. As if needing to stay one step ahead of the Bruard wasn’t enough. You had to go inviting the wrath of the law and the outlaws.” He glanced back over his shoulder, taking in the disheveled state of Waleed. “Maybe it’s better if you wait out here. One sight of you in that mess and the receptionist will call the cops. Then it really will be game over.”
“Like you look any better,” pouted Waleed.
“No, but at least I don’t provoke people into wanting to kill me every five minutes. I know how to conduct myself in civilized company.”
“Picky, picky,” muttered Waleed, but he followed Akhenaton’s suggestion, kicking at the dirt outside the building as Akhenaton brushed himself down in a rudimentary attempt to clean himself up before going inside.