by S. C. Stokes
If there is a Christmas at all.
With the Shinigami accelerating their plan, there was no way of knowing how much time she and Sanders had left to stop their deadly plot.
Sanders led Kasey down a dark alleyway that ran between two towering apartment buildings. Both buildings looked like they'd seen better days. One of them looked all but abandoned. A temporary fence had been erected around it, and signs announced it would be demolished shortly.
It was likely to be redeveloped in short order. Much of the Bronx was undergoing a transformation as wealthy landlords evicted their tenants and built towering new condos overlooking the city.
Kasey crept down the alley.
Sanders pulled up his hood. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out two handkerchiefs. He tied one around his face, obscuring all but his eyes, then handed the second to Kasey. “You might want to follow suit. It won't do for us to be recognized here.”
Kasey took the handkerchief but raised one eyebrow. "Okay, Sanders, level with me now. What are we doing here? And why are we dressed like cheap bandits from an old eighties Western movie?”
"Well, as I mentioned before, our problem is resources. We need money, both to stay ahead of the ADI and to begin fighting back. If we are to win others to our cause, we will need to be persuasive. With the ADI hunting us, that won't come cheap. We need money, a lot of it. I figured robbing a bank was out of the question. That might impact your ability to return to your former employment. There are however many places in New York which are just as good as a bank, and this is one such place."
Kasey looked around the dark alleyway. “Where exactly are we?"
Sanders stared at the temporary fence surrounding the building. "If my sources are correct, this building on our right is one of several supply centers for the Night Crew."
"The Night Crew?” Kasey hissed. “They are one of the most brutal gangs in the city. They were responsible for more drug-related homicides last year than any other three gangs combined. They’re infamous."
"Precisely,” Sanders said, nodding at the building. “I spent the afternoon gathering intel to make sure we picked the right location. I knew they operated in the area, but I had to watch their couriers to track them back here. They come and go frequently. Drugs out, cash in. Even if it’s not their HQ, it is certainly one of their major stash houses. There should be plenty of cash inside, more than enough for us to take care of ourselves for the foreseeable future.”
Kasey shook her head, mouth agape.
Sanders’ plan was audacious, but it was also suicidal. The Night Crew maintained their iron grip on The Bronx with an unwavering code of violence, bribery, and corruption. Even the NYPD gave them a wide berth.
Joint operations with the DEA had been organized repeatedly. From time to time, the NYPD succeeded in dragging some of the low-level dealers into the station, but their higher echelons of leadership had proved elusive.
The identity of their master, the Night Lord, was a closely guarded secret. His lieutenants had always been far more willing to go to prison than to snitch on him.
"You do realize what they'll do if they catch us?" Kasey asked.
Sanders nodded. "Yes. They’ll kill us.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Kasey asked, raising her hands.
“Because,” Sanders started, “it’s exactly what the ADI is going to do when they catch us, so when you think about it, ADI or Night Crew, it doesn't really make a difference. If we don't change the game, we are as good as dead anyway."
Kasey pulled the handkerchief up under her eyes. “Yes, but with your plan, we are going to have two organizations hunting us rather than just the one we have now.”
“If you have a better plan, I'm all ears. But unless we do something drastic, we’re sleeping on a park bench tonight. I promise it is every bit as unpleasant as you would imagine.”
Kasey had to concede the point. They were running out of options fast and she knew it. Without resources, the ADI would simply run them to ground. It might take a day, it might take a week or a month, but sooner or later the ADI would get them. There was no way of evading their attention forever, not without more resources. It was time to fight.
Steeling her nerves, she stepped closer to Sanders. “Alright, then, larceny it is. What's the grand plan?”
Sanders drew his pistol from the duffel and tucked it into the waistband of his pants before lifting the hoodie over it to conceal it. “I have one magazine, how about you?”
Kasey opened the duffel, drew out her Glock, and checked the magazine. "I've only got three rounds. Practically empty. So the plan is to take out the Bronx's most notorious criminal syndicate with less than twenty rounds?"
Sanders shook his head. "Oh, no, we would be horrendously outgunned. We’d be dead in minutes. Hardly a fair fight, if you ask me." He led the way down the darkened alleyway. "The gun is just a last resort. I wasn't planning on fighting that fair."
Kasey caught his meaning immediately. "Magic?"
Sanders nodded. "Magic, indeed. We’ll be in and out before the ADI know we’re on the move. By the time the ADI arrive, they will have nothing but a mess to clean up. I doubt anyone is going to believe a bunch of drug dealers when they say two wizards broke into their stash house. They will be the laughingstock of the city. It is far more likely they will simply put a price on our head and be done with it.”
"Oh, is that all?” Kasey said with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know what I was even worried about.”
"Like I said, Kasey, if you have a better plan, I'm all ears.”
Kasey shook her head. "Nope. When it comes to committing suicide, this is as good a plan as any, I suppose. Besides, willfully making a mess for the ADI to clean up sounds tremendously appealing.”
"That's the spirit,” Sanders replied. “The more we divide their focus, the better our chances of staying ahead of them are. Kasey, it’s time to ignore all the directives you have ever been given. It's time to make as big a mess as possible."
If Sanders could see beneath her handkerchief, he would have seen her lips tighten into a broad smile. The previous days’ pursuit had worn her nerves to shreds. It felt good to be on the front foot again. Doing some damage to the Night Crew appealed to her on many levels. It would take the NYPD weeks or months to build up enough of a case to get a search warrant. By that time, the Night Crew would have moved on to a new location. It was these regular relocations that had allowed them to stay a step ahead of law enforcement. It would feel good to re-balance the ledger.
Kasey cracked her fingers and began to summon her powers. "Alright, let's do this. Where are they?"
Sanders pointed down the alleyway to where it came to a dead end. A heavy steel door stood in front of them. For an abandoned building, she'd expected it to be in poor repair, but instead, this steel door had been recently installed and reinforced. It looked more like the entrance to a fortress rather than a derelict structure awaiting its end.
Kasey strode toward it, Sanders at her side.
They came to a stop.
“Ready?” Sanders whispered.
"As ready as I'll ever be,” Kasey replied, raising both hands. “What's the plan?"
Sanders shrugged. "I dunno, I was just gonna knock on the front door."
Before Kasey could stop him, Sanders reached up and rapped on the heavy steel door three times.
Chapter Four
A steel slider set in the door at eye height began to part.
The tinny grind of steel against steel echoed down the alley as the peephole opened. The gap was little wider than a pair of sunglasses. Through the hole, two brown eyes peered out.
"What do you want?" the sentinel asked from the other side of the door.
The alley was dark; he would be struggling to make out who was outside.
"That's easy,” Sanders replied. “We want to come in. Open up."
"What's the password?" the sentinel demanded.
Kasey and Sanders look
ed at each other.
Sanders shrugged. "My bad, I should have expected that." He turned back to the door and in his most innocuous voice took a guess. "Please?"
"In your dreams,” the sentinel replied. “Now, get out of here before I come out there and shoot you."
"I'd love to,” Sanders replied. "Unfortunately, I really need to speak with your boss. Is he in?"
"He doesn't take appointments," the sentinel replied. "Piss off."
Sanders looked at Kasey. "What you’ll notice is that wasn't a no." Addressing the thug he pressed on. "Come on, surely he'll make an exception for some old friends. Go get him."
"I said get lost,” the sentinel shouted, slamming his fist against the door to scare them off.
Kasey knew what was coming next.
The sentinel shoved the barrel of an ugly black revolver through the peephole. "Now, get lost.”
Kasey grabbed the steely black barrel of the revolver and pushed it down so that it faced nothing but the empty alley.
The thug grunted as he pulled the trigger. The pistol bucked as the gunshot reverberated through the alley. The bullet struck the pavement, sending flecks of concrete spraying from the impact.
The barrel rotated as the firing pin drew back once more.
Before the sentinel could pull the trigger a second time, Sanders slammed his palm against the outside of the fortified door and bellowed, "Bernstan Stiele."
The steel door buckled, its hinges exploding in a shriek of twisted metal. The door sailed inward, like it had been struck by a battering ram, taking the sentinel with it.
Sanders stepped through the opening. Bending over the sentinel, who was pinned beneath the door, he said, "Sorry, chief, mine is bigger."
Kasey kicked away the sentinel’s pistol.
"That's going to hurt in the morning," she muttered, nodding toward him.
Sanders shrugged. “He should have opened the door when I said please. "
Kasey found herself standing in a hall. Its carpet was a dull green weave that was worn and fraying at the edges. The décor may have seen better days, but it seemed the Night Crew cared little for interior design. Their efforts focused instead on security, such as the fifty-caliber machine gun emplacement dominating the far end of the hallway. The weapon was fortified with sandbags to shield it from anyone who might storm the building.
Someone seeking to rob the Night Crew would have to walk straight into the business end of the heavy machine gun. Unfortunately, right now, that included Kasey.
Beside the machine gun nest rested a table at which sat three Night Crewmen playing cards. Kasey’s heart skipped a beat as one of them leapt into the emplacement and popped up behind the machine gun.
"Sanders!” Kasey warned.
Sanders looked up the hall at the thugs.
Kasey glanced around for a way out. Spotting an apartment door to her right, she hurried over to it. Just as the machine gun racked its payload, she kicked in the door.
Grabbing Sanders, she tackled him out of the hall and into the apartment, pinning him to the floor. Milliseconds later, the machine gun opened fire, shredding the hall in a storm of steel.
Fortunately, the placement of the weapon didn’t allow for great angling of the weapon. That didn't stop the guards from trying.
The emplacement fired, its withering salvo pounding the rooms to smithereens. On the floor, she and Sanders were beneath the worst of it. She cringed at the racket and she continued to hold Sanders down.
The hallway went still as the machine gun’s feed ran dry.
Sanders tapped Kasey on the arm. "Let’s go, before they reload.”
"With pleasure." She rolled off him.
Getting to her feet, she made for the doorway. She raised her right hand before her.
“Pêl Tân!” She chanted as she rounded the shattered door jam and re-entered the hall. Channeling her will, she sent a coalescing ball of flames hurtling toward the machine gun emplacement.
The thugs’ eyes went wide as the flames sailed toward them. Kasey strode down the hall, the fireball billowing before her. She was an avatar of destruction.
The blaze rolled over the sandbags, engulfing the thug who was still trying to reload the machine gun. The thug collapsed, shrieking in pain.
His comrades at the table lifted their weapons.
Kasey cocked her head to one side. "Wrong choice, boys."
Chanting, she sent the inferno into overdrive. The flames blossomed outward, catching both thugs in its frenzied expansion. The fire consumed the thugs along with the wooden table they had been sitting at.
With a flick of her wrist, she extinguished the blaze.
Sanders nodded his approval. "No half measures."
“Nope, they would have killed us if we'd given them another chance.”
She had little compassion for the fallen Night Crew, unlike the ADI agents they had been evading for the past few days. The ADI agents were innocently following orders and weren’t aware of who was giving them. The Night Crew were willfully profiting from a life of crime. Their fortune was built on the misery of those they enslaved with their drugs.
As she looked up, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She ducked, and the thug’s blow sailed over her head. He caught Sanders in the face. Sanders staggered back into the hall.
The thug grabbed Kasey by the hoodie and wrenched her off her feet. She took advantage of the closing distance and slammed her fist into the man’s nose.
The thug grunted at the blow but didn’t release her. Instead, he slammed her into the floor. She grunted as the wind was driven from her lungs. Fighting the throbbing pain in her back, she swept the legs out from underneath the thug.
He came thundering to the floor as Kasey rolled out of the way. Leveraging herself against the wall, she bounced to her feet once more.
The thug drew his pistol.
I’m not close enough to reach him.
Kasey stared down the barrel of the pistol as the thug’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Movement shifted beside him. Sanders brought a chair down on the thug’s arm. The pistol went off, sending a round into the floor. Dropping the pistol, the thug grabbed the chair and shoved it and Sanders out of the way.
Kasey spotted the pistol laying in the hall. The thug’s gaze settled on it too. Kasey dove on the weapon, snatching it off the ground. As she raised the gun, the thug’s hands closed around hers. She tried to turn it on the thug, but he was using his weight to keep the weapon pinned against the ground.
If I can’t use the weapon, I need to take it out of action.
Kasey squeezed the trigger, discharging the pistol into the floor, over and over, until the pistol simply clicked. It was empty. She dropped the weapon so that her hands were free.
Before she could react, the thug wrapped his arms around her throat and began crushing it with his bulging biceps.
Kasey tried to mouth the words to a spell, but it died in her throat. She couldn’t get a word out. Her head was going light from the lack of oxygen.
With the last of her strength, she hoisted her feet side up to the wall, and pushed off it with everything she had.
She grimaced at the impact as her head struck his already broken nose.
He released her. Kasey gasped for breath.
His hands went to his ruined face as blood ran from his nose.
Unable to use her magic for lack of breath, Kasey grabbed the pistol from the ground. Changing her grip, she brought it around and pistol whipped him across his head.
The man collapsed, rolling back on to the floor unconscious.
Brushing herself off Kasey found Sanders behind her, catching his breath
“Thanks for your help. The next one’s yours,” Kasey muttered.
"Fair enough," Sanders replied. “That one hit like a freight train.”
Above them, an alarm blared to life.
Kasey looked up. “Well, safe to say they know we are here.”
<
br /> “Indeed. Nothing changes, though. We need to keep moving,” Sanders replied. “The quicker the better.”
Footsteps raced around above them as the building came to life.
“There goes our element of surprise,” Sanders laughed.
"It was gone the moment you blew in the door,” Kasey muttered. “Not that it matters. Let's get a move on. We need to get that money and get out of here before any reinforcements arrive."
"What reinforcements?" Sanders asked.
"Other chapters of the Night Crew. If this place is as important as you think, we are going to have every Night Crewman in the Bronx on their way here now. So, we need to be out of here before their friends arrive.”
Sanders nodded. "So, I guess that just leaves one question. Do we take the elevator, or the stairs?"
Chapter Five
Kasey took the stairs two at a time as she raced to the second floor. As she cleared the landing, she came face-to-face with a tall mountain of a man.
The thug before her looked Eastern European and had a thick mop of brown hair reaching down to his shoulders that did little to cover a distinct scar that ran from his right eye down to his ear. He looked like he'd gone toe to toe with someone with a broken bottle and lost badly.
Whoever it was must've had balls of steel or been very drunk. The thug was easily seven feet tall and as wide as Kasey and Sanders put together.
"There's a problem downstairs." Kasey started. The bluff was unconvincing, and she knew it.
Without a word, the thug snapped out his arm and grabbed her. The cheap material of the hoodie tore as she was hoisted into the air.
She kicked wildly, catching him in the groin. The ogre grunted in pain but kept a firm grip on her.
"Are you kidding me?” Kasey said, clutching the thug’s arms. “That almost always works.”
She kicked again, but this time the thug was ready. He simply held her farther away, her legs flailing helplessly in the air.
Sanders’ footsteps bounded up the stairs after her. He came to a halt at the entrance, right behind her.
The thug hefted Kasey and threw her straight at Sanders. Sanders tried to duck, but she slammed into him. They tumbled backwards and thudded down a flight of stairs. They collapsed in a heap on the landing.