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Sullivan Saga 1: Sullivan's War

Page 9

by Michael Rose


  “Us? Why are you coming?”

  “People are going to look for strong leaders after Zednik falls, leaders who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty. I intend to be one of them.”

  Sullivan shrugged. “All right. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be down to discuss the plan.”

  THE PLAN WAS inelegant, but most things on Abilene were inelegant, and Sullivan didn’t see any reason for that to change. One team, led by Sullivan, would go in through the street-side door and take out the guards in the warehouse while the second team waited on the tarmac side to make sure no one got out that way. Once the warehouse was secure, they would message the pilot to land. Sullivan would open the large bay door, and they would load up the cargo as though nothing was amiss. It wasn’t unusual for illicit cargo to be loaded up in the middle of the night, so there was a good chance any passersby would think nothing of it. Once loaded, the pilot would take off for Faris.

  Sullivan and Fernandez strode confidently through the shantytown. Brain and Lawton stayed on the tarmac side. Between the warehouses, Sullivan would occasionally catch a glimpse of Brain and Lawton through the chain link fences that, in theory, kept unauthorized personnel off the tarmac.

  As Sullivan approached the warehouse Brain had indicated, two men standing outside the street entrance turned toward him. Sullivan and Fernandez kept walking past the warehouse. They took a few more steps then, on Sullivan’s signal, he and Fernandez wheeled around, guns drawn, and fired on the guards. They both went down, and Sullivan dashed to the door, throwing it open before anyone had a chance to lock it or take other defensive measures.

  Sullivan shot another man who was rushing toward the door then caught a glimpse of movement up on the catwalk. A moment later, one of the office doors slammed shut.

  Sullivan ran to the foot of the stairs and crouched down behind a forklift. The rest of the warehouse was clear. As quietly as he could, he ascended the steps. He reached the top and looked down the catwalk. All four of the office doors were closed.

  A bucket, filled with sand and cigarette butts, sat at the top of the stairs. Sullivan tossed it. Its clanking as it skipped down the catwalk was immediately drowned out by the sound of automatic gunfire. Sullivan saw one of the doors explode into splinters as the bullets pierced it. Sullivan dashed up the catwalk, waited for the gunfire to subside then kicked in the door and opened fire into the man who was crouched behind the desk, loading a fresh magazine into his gun. The man fell back against the wall and then slumped to the floor, leaving several streaks of blood on the wall.

  Sullivan made a quick check of the other rooms then went back down to open the bay door for Brain and Lawton. Brain grinned at Sullivan. “What did I tell you, Rick? Easy.”

  Brain took out his tablet, put in his earpiece and contacted the pilot. Ten minutes later, the ship landed in front of the warehouse and opened its cargo bay door. Four of Brain’s men got out of the ship and went to work loading up the cargo.

  Sullivan stepped out of earshot of the other men and gestured for Brain to join him. “Is there any way Kate and I could get on that ship before it leaves?”

  Brain furrowed his brow. “Faris isn’t dangerous. We won’t need security for this one.”

  “Not as security, Eugene. I want to get to Faris for other reasons. And I want to stay there.”

  “You’re leaving me?”

  “I’d hoped to make a little more money, but lately I’ve been feeling like I’m stagnating. There are some things I need to do. I need to move on.”

  Brain shook his head. “I don’t know, Rick.”

  Sullivan smiled. “You don’t owe me anything, Eugene. I’ll pay for passage….”

  “No.” Brain bit his lip and nodded. “It’ll be my gift to you and Kate. It’ll be my way of wishing you well and hoping for a better life for the both of you.” He walked back to Lawton and Fernandez. “You two stay here. Sullivan and I are going back to our warehouse. We’ll be back shortly.”

  Brain and Sullivan began walking back along the tarmac. “You’ll be missed, Rick,” said Brain. “Like you said the first day we met, my men are eager but untrained. Besides, I don’t trust all of them the way I trust you. Take Dannon. He’s only been with me for about eight months and before that? Well, he’s a little reluctant to talk about his previous employment.”

  “I imagine that’s normal in this line of work. After all, I’ve been working for you only six months.”

  “Yes, but from day one you told me who you were and what you’ve done. Dannon hasn’t. He’s been a good man so far, but there’s just something about him.”

  Sullivan walked on in silence. It occurred to him that Kate was alone with Dannon at the warehouse. He wished Brain had told him this before.

  When they got back to the warehouse, Brain rapped against the bay door in a pre-arranged pattern. He stepped back and waited for Dannon to open it. When nothing happened, Brain took out his key and walked to the small personnel entrance next to the bay door. “The lazy bastard is probably asleep,” he said, unlocking the door.

  He pushed it open. Sullivan waited for him to go through so he could follow, but Brain stood still. Drawing his gun and pushing Brain out of the way, Sullivan peered in. Dannon was on the floor in the middle of the warehouse. Sullivan made a quick visual survey before stepping inside.

  The rest of the warehouse was clear, so he moved over to check on Dannon. There was a bruise on his temple. The man was alive but seemed to be unconscious. Sullivan sprinted up the stairs to the room he shared with Kate. It was empty. He checked the other rooms and found them empty as well.

  “Kate’s gone!” he yelled down to Brain. He jogged down the stairs to where Brain was kneeling beside Dannon.

  “I think he’s coming around,” said Brain.

  Dannon moaned loudly as he opened his eyes. Sullivan picked him up by the front of his shirt. “Where’s Kate?”

  Dannon blinked. “Kate?”

  “Kate! Where is she?”

  “Some men came… knocked me out… I don’t know what happened after that.”

  Sullivan, still holding onto Dannon’s shirt, pushed him into a pile of empty boxes.

  “Hey!” said Brain, grabbing Sullivan’s arm.

  “He’s lying.”

  Sullivan shook Brain off and went to pick Dannon up again. “I know you’re lying, Dannon. What have you done?”

  “I swear, Sullivan, some men came…!”

  “And you let them in, didn’t you?”

  “No, I….”

  Sullivan brought his hand up and struck Dannon across the face. “Tell me the truth you son of a bitch!”

  “I am, Rick, I didn’t let them in!”

  Sullivan struck Dannon again and tossed him to the floor. He drew his gun and put it against Dannon’s forehead. “This is your last chance, Dannon. Tell the truth, or I’ll kill you.”

  “Rick, that’s enough!” said Brain.

  Sullivan ignored him. “Last chance,” he said to Dannon.

  The man started crying. “All right, Rick, don’t kill me!”

  Sullivan put his gun away and waited for the man to wipe his face. Dannon looked up at Sullivan.

  “Well?”

  “I let them in. I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice, Zednik would’ve killed me….”

  “Zednik? He has Kate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sullivan kneeled down and looked Dannon in the eyes. He could see the fear—and the sincerity—in the man’s expression. “He doesn’t know,” he said to Brain.

  “Are you sure?” Brain asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then move.” Brain drew his gun, pushed Sullivan to the side and shot Dannon in the face.

  IV:

  ALL GOOD MEN

  SERVE THE DEVIL

  16

  BRAIN GLANCED AT Dannon’s body and frowned. “It was a setup,” he said. “Dannon told Zednik we were going
after his warehouse, so he decided to hit us while we were away.”

  “So we go to war,” said Sullivan.

  “Maybe. I can round up about a dozen men. But if Zednik knows we’re coming, he’ll have three times as many as that. If we can even find him.”

  Sullivan rapped his fingers on the table. “Leave that to me. But first, I need to get ahold of one of Zednik’s more trusted men. Someone with information.”

  “Most of his people won’t know anything. Zednik is very careful about keeping his low-level employees in the dark. But there is the Cairo Bar. A few of his top men go there. Hell, everyone goes there.”

  “I’ve heard of it.”

  “The problem is, you’ll never get in with a weapon. The bar is neutral territory, a meeting place.”

  “I don’t need a weapon. I just need names and, if you can get them, pictures of Zednik’s men.”

  “Well,” said Brain, “there’s always Hans and Franz. You can recognize them because they’re tall, blonde twins. Always go everywhere together. I’ve seen them at the Cairo fairly often.”

  “And they’re close to Zednik?”

  “Now that Wilson is dead, they’re his right-hand men.”

  “Good. I’m going tonight, alone.”

  “You’ll need help, Rick.”

  “Alone I can get in unnoticed.”

  “Alone you’ll get killed.”

  “Maybe. But if I do, you need to try and hit Zednik fast and hard, before he has time to prepare.”

  “Right.”

  “And if I do get killed, I need you to promise me something.”

  “You don’t need to ask, Rick. I’ll do everything I can to bring her back.”

  Sullivan nodded. “You’re a good man, Brain. As good as they come on this planet, anyway.”

  “No, I’m not. But I look out for my own.”

  Sullivan rose from the table. “I’m going tonight. If I don’t come back, you’ll know I didn’t make it out alive. But be ready for when I do return. Be ready to go after Zednik.”

  THE BAY DOOR facing the street side of the warehouse opened. Younger checked his weapon, raised it and put his eye to the sighting scope. Sullivan hadn’t left Brain’s warehouse since returning from the raid on Zednik’s cargo. Dannon had alerted Zednik of the raid, who in turn had informed Younger and instructed him to use the opportunity to get Kate Alexander. But in doing so, he had missed his chance to take down Sullivan.

  A small car sped from the warehouse and turned onto the road heading north. Younger didn’t have a chance to see who was driving, but he had only seen one person in the car. If it was Brain or Sullivan, now would be a good opportunity to try to kill one of them.

  Younger watched the car until it turned east and out of sight. He took out his tablet and unfolded it. After a few moments’ work, he had hacked into Abilene’s security network. Many of the surveillance cameras were broken, but by narrowing his focus to the street he had seen the car turn onto, Younger was able to spot it on one that was still operational. He caught sight of the vehicle just as it turned north again.

  Switching to another camera, he watched the car turn into a garage across from the Cairo. Some minutes later, he recognized Sullivan as he jogged across the street and entered the bar.

  SULLIVAN HAD COME unarmed. He didn’t want to draw undue attention from the bouncers. After buying a drink at the bar, he found an empty corner table and waited. If Hans and Franz were already in the back room, they’d come out eventually. If they weren’t, Sullivan would wait for them to arrive. He’d wait every night until he found them.

  As he sat sipping his drink, a scuffle broke out at the bar. The bouncers quickly and efficiently broke up the fight and tossed the three men involved out into the street. A moment later, the unmistakable scream of a severely injured man reached Sullivan’s ears. The scream stopped soon after, and two of the men reentered the bar, laughing.

  YOUNGER CHECKED HIS weapon at the door, stepped into the Cairo and scanned the crowd. He caught sight of Sullivan and casually went to the bar for a drink. He couldn’t kill Sullivan in here, so he’d wait.

  He found a spot where he could see Sullivan but wasn’t facing the man directly. There was no point in making him suspicious. As he watched him out of the corner of his eye, Younger noticed that Sullivan was watching the door. He was looking for someone himself. He hardly took his eyes off the door, and whenever it opened, his body stiffened slightly.

  The last time this happened, Sullivan did not relax after seeing who came in. Younger looked toward the door to see who it was that had caught Sullivan’s interest. It was Hans and Franz. Sullivan must be after Zednik.

  Younger hoped the twins wouldn’t notice him and give him away to Sullivan. Fortunately, they missed him in their survey of the crowd and turned to go to the back room. Younger glanced at the corner of the bar, but Sullivan was already on the move. He stumbled across the floor and fell into one of the twins. Younger couldn’t hear what they were saying over the crowd, but an argument had erupted between Sullivan and the twins. One of the bouncers intervened and led them—more gently than usual, due to the twins’ association with Zednik—to the exit. Younger got up from his table and hurried to retrieve his weapon from the man at the door.

  SULLIVAN WAS LUCKY. The twins had obviously been having a festive evening, and he could smell the alcohol on them. Sullivan ducked under a slow swing from Franz’s fist but took a blow to the side as Hans tried to hit him in the kidneys. He kicked out with his foot and, based on the sound from behind him, made contact with Hans’s groin. Franz swung again, but Sullivan was able to turn away from the blow, lessening its impact. He put his shoulder into the standing twin’s chest and knocked him into the street. A passing car swerved to try and miss the man, but the driver reacted too slowly. The car clipped Franz and sent him spinning to the ground, dead or unconscious, but either way, out of the fight.

  Sullivan turned back to Hans just as he was getting to his feet. Sullivan cold-cocked him before he could take a defensive stance. He dragged the man into the alleyway beside the bar and tossed him roughly into a pile of garbage.

  He was about to hit Hans again when he heard steps at the end of the alley. A man stood in silhouette, facing him.

  “This is no business of yours,” Sullivan said, turning toward the man.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  Younger raised his arm, and Sullivan could see the glint of light on metal. He threw himself against the wall as the first shot went off and, staying low, rushed toward Younger. A quick sidestep let him avoid another bullet, and a second later, Sullivan was barreling into Younger, pushing his arm up and letting the gun fire harmlessly into the air.

  Younger brought his elbow down on Sullivan’s collarbone and kneed him in the stomach as Sullivan reacted to the blow. As he went down, Sullivan used his body weight to take Younger down with him. The gun flew from Younger’s hand and, losing his balance, Younger fell hard, hitting his head against the concrete.

  Sullivan paused to make sure Younger was out. He took the man’s weapon and turned back to Hans. He didn’t know why the man had intervened—maybe he was one of Zednik’s men, maybe he was just a good Samaritan—but without knowing for sure, Sullivan decided to let him live. There would be enough killing in the days ahead.

  Sullivan checked on Hans. Brain had told him that Hans was the twin with the moustache, so this must be him. Hans was conscious but woozy. He probably had a concussion. Putting his shoulder under Hans’s arm, Sullivan led him out of the alley and across to the parking garage. Franz was still face-down in the street. The car that had hit him was gone.

  HANS WAS SCREAMING obscenities. Sullivan had cleared out one of Brain’s offices and had locked the man in, tied to a chair. He let the yelling go on. Hans would tire eventually. Sullivan wanted him tired, vulnerable. He wanted him ready and willing to talk.

  Brain was nervous. He hadn’t expected Sullivan to bring Hans back to the warehouse. �
��If anyone saw, Zednik’ll know it was us,” he said, glancing up as a particularly loud and threatening yell escaped from the office.

  Sullivan smiled. “Maybe that would be a good thing. If we can get him to come to us, we won’t have to go to him.”

  “But he won’t come. Zednik never gets his own hands dirty.”

  “But say he sends his best men to try and take us out. Those are men we won’t have to deal with when we do go after him.”

  Brain was unconvinced. He took a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it. He inhaled deeply then blew out the smoke. “When are you going to shut that man up?”

  “He’ll stop yelling when he’s tired.”

  Brain sat in silence, smoking his cigarette while Sullivan checked and cleaned various weapons. He was preparing the arsenal for their attack on Zednik.

  After half an hour, Hans stopped making noise. Sullivan got up from the table and climbed the stairs up to the offices. Opening the door, he found Hans with his head down and sweat covering his face and neck.

  Hans looked up. “I’m going to kill you,” he said.

  Sullivan took the chair opposite Hans and crossed his arms. “There’s really no need for that.”

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “We have him, too,” Sullivan lied. “He’s hurt pretty badly after getting hit by that car, but he should survive, if he gets proper treatment.”

  “If he dies, I’ll kill you.”

  “I thought you were already going to kill me.”

  “Then I’ll kill that tasty little blonde. Right after I have my way with her.”

  Sullivan smiled in spite of his desire to backhand the man across his face. “Really, Hans, we both know that’s not up to you. But I will admit that you’re clever. How’d you know she and I were connected?”

  “Zednik’s been talking about you ever since you killed Wilson and escaped. I’ve seen your picture. I should’ve recognized you at the bar.”

  “But it was dark, and you were drunk, right? Is that what you’re going to tell Zednik if you ever get out of here? You think that’ll help explain how I beat three of his best henchmen?”

 

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