by Sean Black
“What you wanna do?” said Ty.
Lock looked around. “I’m not seeing many options here. Make the call,” he told Ty.
Ty dug out his cell. Fresh fire split the concrete in front of him and he ducked his head back down. He tapped at the screen and waited for the call to connect.
Lock glanced up. He could see the grille of the Suburban looming larger with every second that passed. He took aim at the portion of Orzana’s lower legs that he could glimpse between the bottom of the vehicle door and the ground and fired. His shot fell short, skittering up from the concrete and into the door.
The Suburban picked up pace. It was maybe forty feet from them now.
Ty was screaming their location into his cell phone. He looked up at Lock. “They’re going to be here, just not fast enough.” His expression wasn’t one of fear so much as resignation.
“Listen we gotta make a move here,” Lock shouted to Ty. “Back down there,” he said, waving his hand at the loading dock behind them.
“There’s no way, man,” said Ty.
“That’s all I’ve got,” said Lock. “We can’t stay here.”
“Okay then,” said Ty. “On three?”
The Suburban rolled forward another foot. Orzana’s head popped up. He had a smile plastered over his face. “Thanks for the cash.”
A voice from behind the Suburban. The Red Tiger had broken cover again. He was walking toward the rear of the Suburban, the Mossberg tucked in against his shoulder.
He and Lock made eye contact. The Red Tiger flicked his head, indicating that if Lock and Ty were going to make a run for it then now was the time.
The Red Tiger began screaming at the Suburban. He fired at the masked man standing at the back. His shot found him, hitting the man in the leg.
He broke into a jog heading straight toward the SUV.
“Three,” shouted Lock.
Both he and Ty hauled Emily and Charlie onto their feet. Lock grabbed Emily’s collar and spun her round so that they were back to back. He backed up, still facing the Suburban. Ty did the same. They alternated shots as they crested the dock and began to edge down it.
Lock watched as Orzana moved toward the back of the vehicle. The Red Tiger was still jogging, heading directly for it, out in the open, with no cover.
Orzana waited for him to fire. As the Red Tiger threw the Mossberg to the ground and reached for his hand gun, Orzana took his chance. He lifted his rifle and calmly took aim.
With Orzana no longer aiming at them, Lock turned and scooped Emily up into his arms. He sprinted down the dock, Ty next to him, both of them making a mad dash for the street.
Behind them, he heard Orzana’s rifle fire. There was a mangled scream and the sound of a body hitting the concrete.
Lock didn’t look back. He didn’t have to.
They kept running, reaching the street. A patrol car was headed toward them. Lock swiftly holstered his SIG and waved it down as it came to a stop and the two officers bailed out.
Lock put Emily down, his arms and legs burning from exertion as the adrenalin dump subsided. More LAPD units were headed into the street.
Lock and Ty raised their arms, palms open, making clear they weren’t a threat to the responding officers. Two hundred yards down the street, the Suburban appeared suddenly, driving in the opposite direction and immediately drawing fire. It kept going, clipping a patrol car and sending it spinning out of the way.
Emily was standing next to him, hands on her thighs, gasping for air, as cops rushed toward them.
“You hurt?” Lock asked her.
She shook her head.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “It’s over.”
She reached up, swiping her hair from her eyes. “Who was that back there?” she asked.
He knew whom she meant. The avenging angel who had arrived out of nowhere and bought them just enough time to get the hell out of there before they met the same fate he just had. The man who had sacrificed himself, not for Lock or Ty but, Lock knew, for her.
He wanted to tell her. That was your father. Your real father. It wasn’t his place.
“I don’t know who that was,” he told her, as uniformed bodies swarmed in around him and Ty, and he was taken to the ground.
58
The three men, Lock, Ty and Li Yeng, stood side by side on the apron and watched as the cabin-crew member, a young woman who looked like she’d stepped straight from the cover of Chinese Vogue, closed the aircraft door. Lock could glimpse Emily Yan at the window, staring mournfully out of the window, her life of freedom cut short.
The Gulfstream’s engines shifted up a notch from low roar to sharp whine. It began to taxi, making a slow, sweeping turn as it headed toward the runway.
“Not a bad way to travel,” said Ty.
Lock agreed. But the kind of money Chow Yan had was a double-edged sword that he had seen before. With wealth came the constant fear of losing it or being targeted by those who wanted some of it for themselves.
That was why the smart wealthy either kept their lifestyle simple, like Warren Buffett, living in the same house for forty years in Omaha and eating at McDonald’s. Or, if they enjoyed a more lavish lifestyle, they lived it behind closed doors, and kept social media to the accounts set up to promote their charitable foundations.
Charlie and Emily had learned the lesson the hard way. Shove your wealth into people’s faces and expect some blowback.
Lock didn’t doubt for a moment that places like Arcadia would be the scene of more crimes like this. He and Ty had already fielded dozens of calls from wealthy Chinese and Chinese-Americans from up and down the west coast who were seeking their expertise on how to make themselves, their families and their property safer.
The Gulfstream took its place in the line of aircraft awaiting clearance to take off.
“You’re not heading home?” Lock asked Li Yeng.
He shot Lock a diplomatic smile. “Mr. Yan still has investments he wants me to oversee here in Los Angeles.”
“Can’t kidnap an office building,” said Ty.
“One of the many advantages of real estate,” said Li. “Speaking of which, Mr. Yan has asked if you’d like to oversee security for his properties here.” He dug into the inside pocket of his perfectly tailored Hugo Boss suit, took out a piece of paper and handed it to Lock.
Lock unfolded the paper and read what was written. Ty snuck behind him and took the paper out of his hand.
“Are those zeros after the decimal point?” Ty asked Li.
“No, that’s the figure,” said Li.
It was an eye-watering sum. Too eye-watering.
“A security review?” said Lock, taking the paper back from Ty.
Chow Yan had already proved very generous, giving them both a substantial bonus for securing the safe return of his daughter and nephew.
“And, perhaps, some work to ensure that certain people are dis-incentivized from harming his family in the future,” Li Yeng added, his expensive American education beginning to show through.
“You mean he wants payback, and he wants us to deliver it?” said Lock, cutting to the heart of the matter.
It wasn’t a question that would be answered with “Yes.” Li wasn’t stupid, far from it.
“Consider it,” he said.
Lock handed the piece of paper back to him. “I don’t know if it’s worthy of a fortune cookie, but you ever hear the saying ‘Let sleeping dogs lie’?”
“Of course,” said Li.
Ty leaned in to Lock and whispered, “You ever hear the saying ‘That’s a twenty-five percent down payment on a condo’?”
Lock shook him off.
“We did what we had to do when we had to do it,” he told Li. “Poking at an organization like MS-13 is rarely a good idea.”
Li nodded. “Excellent advice.”
“Make sure and pass it on to your boss,” said Lock. “Come on, Tyrone, we have a housewarming to get to.”
59
> Lock pulled out of the exit from Van Nuys airport in his Audi, Ty next to him in the passenger seat.
“You know you don’t have to come to this thing, right?” said Lock, as Li Yeng overtook them in his blue Lexus, both cars headed for the 405 freeway.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” said Ty.
“You bummed about me shooting down that last proposal?”
“Nah,” said Ty. “You’re right. Better to let sleeping Salvadorian street gangs lie.”
“Listen, we’re going to have enough work to keep us going for the next year. Easy work too. Domestic-security reviews. We can charge top dollar too.”
“I know, but it wasn’t just the money. Know what I’m saying?”
Lock did. Revenge was always tempting. The problem was, it rarely ended where or when you wanted it to. It had a habit of turning into a feud, and Lock had settled one not too long ago. He didn’t want to get sucked into another.
“It’s done. Best that we leave it like that.”
Ty was staring at the mirror on his side of the car. “Maybe somebody should explain that to these guys.”
Lock’s eyes flicked to the rearview where a beaten-up silver Ford Mustang with two young Hispanic males inside was closing in on them. Everything about their appearance and demeanor screamed “gang member.”
The driver of the Mustang sped up, and whipped suddenly around Lock’s Audi, almost colliding with a pickup truck headed down Haskell Avenue in the other direction. Lock slowed so they could pass. He was happier to have the Mustang in front of him where he could see it.
Ty had already drawn his weapon and was wearing his game face.
The Mustang was moving away from them. For a second Lock thought it might just be a coincidence. It wasn’t as if gang members were a rare sight when you drove around the Valley. If you were on the lookout, you’d see them.
The Mustang drew out again, pulling around another car. It was then Lock spotted their actual target, Li Yeng’s dark blue Lexus, about a hundred yards ahead. The Mustang slowed now, tucking in behind it.
“You see what I see?” he said to Ty.
“Uh-huh.”
“Think we should call him, give him a heads-up that he has company?”
“No, he’ll freak out. It’ll only make things worse,” said Lock, waiting for a gap in oncoming traffic before touching the gas pedal, and pulling out wide, overtaking the three vehicles between him and the Mustang in one sudden burst of speed.
“What about the cops?” said Ty.
Lock thought about it for a second. He was studying the road. More importantly, he was studying what was on the other side of it. The lack of pedestrians. The absence of a high curb. And the way it opened up near the interchange with the 405 freeway.
He had something in mind, and he wasn’t sure that adding a third party with guns would make it easier. Giving it a second’s thought, he knew it wouldn’t. It would only complicate matters.
“If we see one, I’m sure we can flag them down.”
“You got it,” said Ty.
“Oh, and holster that,” said Lock.
Ty looked puzzled.
“What we gonna do?” he asked. “Give them a stern talking-to?”
“Something like that,” said Lock, his hands moving into position on the wheel. “Call Li and put him on speaker for me.”
Ty holstered his gun and made the call to Li Yeng. They could see his blue Lexus up ahead, the Mustang closing in on it. As the phone rang, Ty tapped the speaker icon, and put the phone into a holder on the dash.
“Li,” said Lock, when he picked up.
“Mr. Lock, good to hear from you. Have you reconsidered what we discussed?”
“In a way, yes. There’s no reason for alarm, but you have some unwanted company so I need you to do exactly what I tell you when I tell you to do it. And that starts with keeping your current speed and direction exactly the same.”
“Okay,” said Li, a nervous hitch in his voice. Lock could imagine him checking his rearview right about now.
“Keep your eyes on the road ahead, unless I tell you otherwise,” Lock added.
“Understood,” said Li.
“Okay, I’m going to stay on the line here. Disregard anything you hear in the next minute, apart from my instructions. Things might get a little loud, but just stay focused on getting to the freeway on the ramp. You know where it is, right?”
“The 405, yes—it’s just up here.”
Lock looked ahead. Traffic was light. That was good. He didn’t want to involve anyone else in this. On the next block there was a turn lane that led into a long-term parking lot for the nearby airport. It was shorter than he would have liked, but it would have to do. If he was going to pull this off, it was way safer on a surface street. Do it on the freeway and it would be mayhem.
The Mustang was still tucked in behind Li’s Lexus. Lock moved up on it, closing the gap between his Audi and the Mustang, but not so much that the teen gang members would get spooked.
“Okay, Li, you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Good, okay. You see that turn lane up ahead?”
There was the slightest pause.
“Uh, yeah, I see it.”
“Okay, I want you to put on your blinker, and move into it when you get up there. I also want you to hit the gas just before you move into it.”
“Thought I was heading for the freeway.”
“You are,” said Lock. “Soon as you hear a collision behind you, you move back out of the lane, and head to the freeway.”
“Okay, I don’t get this.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to,” Lock reassured him. “You understand all that?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Then repeat it back to me.”
“Signal. Speed up as I move into the turn lane. Wait for a crash behind me then get back out.”
“Perfect,” said Lock.
He watched as the Lexus’s turn signal began to blink.
He assumed that inside the Mustang the two gang members must be thinking that all their Christmases had arrived at once. Way easier to kill someone in a parking lot than shoot at them from the freeway.
The Mustang’s blinker didn’t light up, but it did inch across the road and slow a little, anticipating Li’s next move.
Lock studied the road ahead. There was no traffic coming in the opposite direction.
“Okay, Li, hit the gas—now!”
Lock already had his foot poised over the Audi’s gas pedal.
The Lexus shot forward. A fraction of a second later so did the Mustang.
After that, everything happened at lightning speed as, first, the Lexus, then the Mustang made their move, one matching the other.
As they began to move into the turn lane, Lock kept the Audi on a straight line. He moved up on the inside of the Mustang at speed, his hands set on the wheel, his focus intense. Next to him, Ty braced for the impact.
When the front wheel of his Audi was exactly level with the rear wheel arch of the Mustang, Lock pulled down hard on the wheel.
Both cars travelling at speed, the Mustang spun out as the front of the Audi made contact with its rear.
“Keep going, Li,” shouted Lock, as metal grated against metal.
Lock watched as, with the cars behind him braking to avoid the accident, the Lexus darted back out, heading for the freeway on-ramp.
The Mustang was now pointed in the opposite direction. The driver started to turn but a truck had moved up behind him. Vehicles on both sides had him hemmed in.
Lock rolled to a stop. Ty was already out of the vehicle, headed for the Mustang, as the gang members bailed, their mission aborted.
From experience, Lock knew they would have stolen the vehicle. Even they weren’t dumb enough to use their own car to hunt down and kill someone.
Lock watched as Ty picked the slowest of the two, and chased him down. His opponent had youth on his side, but Ty had long legs a
nd natural athleticism. As the gang member turned to face his pursuer, Ty tackled him to the ground.
The kid was reaching for something tucked into the back of his waistband, but Ty cinched his wrist with a massive hand, peeling back his fingers past breaking point. Even with the honk of horns as traffic built up, Lock could make out the screams of pain.
Ty hauled the kid to his feet and marched him back toward the Audi. Lock turned the Audi around, and met Ty halfway. Ty opened the rear passenger door, threw the kid inside and climbed in after him. Lock hit the central locking button. The doors clunked shut.
“You can’t do this, you assholes,” the gang member protested.
“I think you’ll find we just did,” Ty told him, his game-face expression quieting the kid somewhat.
“Hey, you ain’t cops,” said the kid.
Lock pulled out, and hit the gas, heading away from the now abandoned Mustang, and setting the navigation for Orzana’s auto shop in East Los Angeles. Not that the kid was to know that was where they were headed.
Lock studied him coolly in his mirror. “That’s right,” he told him. “We’re not cops. We’re way worse.”
60
With the front fender smashed and a major dent in its bodywork, Lock’s Audi limped down the ramp and into the parking garage of his new apartment building on Wilshire Boulevard. He and Ty had deposited the teenage gang member with Orzana, along with a warning that if this wasn’t over it soon would be.
Lock had the leverage of Orzana’s involvement in the kidnapping and Orzana knew it. His final piece of advice to the auto-shop boss was “Take your money and enjoy it while you still can.”
Orzana had bluffed and blustered and claimed no knowledge of the attempted attack on Li Yeng. Lock knew he was lying. So did Ty. But they let it go with an assurance that Orzana would ensure there was no repeat.
Lock pulled into one of the apartment’s two designated spaces. He and Ty got out. Lock stopped for a moment to assess the damage.
“You know cars are never quite the same after a crash,” said Ty.
“I was thinking of trading it anyway,” said Lock. “I’ll speak to the insurance company in the morning.”