Buffalo Soldiers (An Upstate New York Mafia Tale Book 2)

by Nicholas Denmon

  “Well, circumstances have changed a bit haven’t they? I mean since that promise was made.” She noticed her heart rate was finally coming down from all the action and weariness seeped through her pores.

  The Black Widow, the crook of his arm being guided by one of the officers, turned his head sideways and spit on the tunnel floor. They reached the metal rungs hammered into the wall, just beneath the opening where the girl from the surveillance cameras at the Salvatore Hotel had appeared and led a minor exodus of combatants, through the noose she had created.

  If only Todd Simmons had given me more man power.

  She would have been able to capture all of them. Not only would the bombing be close to wrapped up, but she’d have her own prize as well for her case against the Ciancetta crime family.

  The officer was pushing The Black Widow up the rungs and into the arms of Briggs, whom she was relieved to see standing above the exit, when the terrorist kicked back and down, cracking the officer’s face with the heel of his boot. The officer fell down the ladder and onto his back, the air exiting his lungs in a rush. He lay there trying to catch his breath while a crease under his eye began to fill with blood.

  Briggs, not amused, yanked The Black Widow up and out of the tunnel and repeatedly settled his fist into the Russian’s face. Alex Vaughn scaled the ladder and came to Briggs' aid, while Sydney ran over and checked on the officer still recovering from the brutal kick.

  She helped him into a sitting position and then came over the lip of the opening just in time to see Alex Vaughn pull back on Briggs’ arm. Briggs was working The Black Widow’s face into hamburger but the large Russian just laid there and took it with a smile.

  Vaughn pushed Briggs backward a few feet and Briggs came forward again with a head of steam, about to continue the pummeling, when Sydney jumped in between.

  “Briggs! Stop it!” She planted her feet, determined to slow the man down until he could come to his senses. The sound of singing and laughter did more to that effect than her much smaller body.

  “America! America!” The Black Widow crooned through broken lips. “God shed his grace on thee.” Instead of holding the tune he spit blood across the floor. The site of it seemed to amuse him, and crawling to his knees with his hands still locked behind his back, he started chuckling. He never lifted his eyes from the ground but in his Eastern European accent, continued. “And crown thy good with brotherhood…”

  “Shut up! Shut him up!” Briggs snapped.

  Alex Vaughn obliged and yanked the Russian up by the cuffs. Sea to shining sea!” Then, being led across the factory floor, he turned and glanced at Briggs and took a bow while flashing his bloody grin.

  Briggs took a step forward but again Sydney stayed him with the flat of her palm. “Whoa! Take it easy. We got him.”

  He took a step back, turned around, and then faced Sydney again. “Yeah we got him.” He raised his voice so that The Black Widow could hear him. “And he won’t be getting a deal because we have his buddy!” He looked away again. “Cocksucker.”

  “You okay?” Sydney eyed him up, he looked worn out even for a man who did take a double tap to the chest.

  He leaned against one of the many iron support beams. “Yeah. I’m fine just tired.”

  Alex Vaughn handed off the Black Widow to the officer questioning the other Russian. He didn’t seem to be getting anywhere based on the Russian’s vacant stare and closed lips. Just beyond them Dr. Tolbert was taking notes and looking at the evidence scattered around the scene.

  “Take Dr. Tolbert and get back to the SUV. You can take a breather there while we wait for the forensic teams and Todd Simmons and his entourage.”

  Briggs nodded his head and waved Dr. Tolbert over. “C’mon, boss wants us back at the staging area.”

  Dr. Tolbert opened her mouth as if to say something but flipped her notebook closed and followed Briggs out the door. Two of the BPD officers stood next to the door and let them pass, then started talking in low tones, no doubt rehashing the adventure of moments before.

  Sydney began to walk over to the prisoners and Alex Vaughn took a step forward to meet her. The door shut behind her exiting agents and that’s when it all happened.

  The Black Widow burst into action behind Alex Vaughn. The first thing she noticed was that his handcuffs clattered to the floor. Alex Vaughn must have noticed it too because his eyes became UFO’s of white and he began to duck and turn. Last to notice it was the officer looking at his other Russian prisoner. With his back to the Black Widow, he never saw the man reach into his still unbuttoned holster and pull the officer’s own Glock from his side.

  She ran forward a step just as Alex Vaughn spun around. She had no time for panic, just training, and she yanked her gun off her hip as fast as she could.

  Pop!

  The officer’s head snapped sideways and a spray of blood seemed to shoot from just behind his ear. His legs buckled instantly and he fell down enough in that split second that Price saw his Russian captive look at the Black Widow, nod his head in understanding, and then the second bullet came just as Alex Vaughn leapt from his crouch towards the Black Widow, his head leading his body like a spear.

  But it was too late.

  The Russian took the bullet just under his jaw and the lead severed an artery in his neck. From the front the hole looked small enough to stick a dime in, for a second, and then the blood came in a dark flow, obscuring the hole for a moment, then allowing it back into view until the next heart beat sent the blood outward unabated.

  The two officers from the doorway, guns drawn, took a step forward, unsure how to proceed. Alex Vaughn collided with the Black Widow and they fell to the floor at the same time as the Russian with a crater in his neck. It was a jumble of legs, arms and blood and the BPD officers were sweating, their fingers tapping their triggers.

  “Don’t shoot. We need him alive.” Sydney watched as Alex Vaughn gained control of the Black Widow’s arm and brought his knee onto the forearm. He wrestled the gun from the Black Widow’s grip and slid it across the floor. In another deft maneuver, he brought one of the larger man’s hands behind his back, picked the cuffs off the floor and locked his wrist. He threw his other knee into the man’s spine and pulled his remaining hand behind his back as the Russian went limp and began a slow laugh.

  Her earpiece chirped as Moreland’s voice cut in. “What the fuck was that? Everything okay in there?”

  “We need a medical team in here now.” She knew it was pointless, both men lay motionless on the floor in pools of their own blood. Sydney felt the heat from the furnace like it was leaping out from her own collar. “Will someone please turn off that god damned furnace?” She walked over to the Russian, face down on the floor, and lowered herself until she squatted next to his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We almost had to put you down just now.”

  The Black Widow continued laughing. Sydney grabbed his face so he looked up at her. “You just killed a cop and you’re laughing? You are about to go Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your life. They put electrodes on your balls in the Bay.” She gave him a derisive snort. “Laugh about that.”

  Vaughn checked the pulse of the cop and Russian in turn and shook his head. “They’re dead.”

  The Black Widow began laughing hysterically and started his singing again. “America! America! God shed his grace…”

  He stopped when Alex Vaughn took two steps over and planted his foot across the man’s mouth. His lips cracked like a piñata and a tooth rattled across the floor. Both BPD officers took a step forward, remembered their fallen friend not more than a foot away, and turned their backs. Sydney stepped away to let Alex Vaughn get to work on the man.

  She wasn’t sure how far she was willing to let it go, but the fire in Vaughn’s eyes told her to stay quiet for now. He rolled the The Black Widow over; looking dazed and ruined, grabbed his shirt and slapped him across the face. The blow seemed to bring the man back from the brink of unconsciousness and his eye
s rattled around in his skull before settling on Alex Vaughn’s.

  “You piece of shit. I’m tired of you singing that song. You want to sing that song you better bring back all those dead people at the mall.” He landed another violent left cross-punch into the man’s face and his head bounced off the concrete floor behind him with a resounding crack.

  Sydney stepped forward, thinking to stop Alex Vaughn before he did something he couldn’t explain away under an inquiry.

  “You better hope my wife lives. Because if she doesn’t I don’t care what hole they put you in. I’ll crawl in there and end you if I have to pull the whole place on top of me.” His eyes flashed and he drew his fist back to strike the Black Widow again.

  The Black Widow shook his head and glared at Alex Vaughn. “I don’t know who this is. This wife of yours. To me, she is a statistic. Her death brings more recognition to Chechnya. To your government’s habit of meddling in the affairs of others. Their promise to a people, a promise reneged.”

  “Her name is Charlotte Vaughn, you son of a bitch.” Alex Vaughn struck him again, this time exploding the man’s nose into a cloud of blood and mucus. He spit on the Black Widow’s destroyed face and threw him back to the ground. He stood up and started walking away.

  “Charlotte Vaughn.” The Black Widow rolled to his side, blood dripping from his face and onto the floor. “Vaughn. I know this name. Alex Vaughn.”

  Sydney held her breath as Alex stopped walking and stood still, neither continuing on nor turning around.

  “He was right. You are a warrior, too. A soldier.” The Black Widow spit a string of red fluid from his mouth. “It was an order, your house. That wasn’t personal.”

  Alex Vaughn turned around and strode to within a few steps of the man. He squatted down much as Sydney had earlier. “Who? Who gave the order?” Vaughn searched the man’s face. “Was it Rafael Rontego? Did he want me dead?”

  The Russian looked up from his growing pool of blood. The men locked eyes for a second. “The hitman? The Italian? Now that was business, too. He was to have the same fate as you. Different orders though, from different people.” He laughed again as if he were letting Alex Vaughn in on some joke. “Can you think of no one who would know the people that want the Italian dead as well as hate you so much as to make it personal?”

  To Sydney’s surprise the words seemed to have an immediate effect on Alex. He stumbled backwards and fell on his ass like someone had just dropkicked him in the chest.

  “Yes.” The Black Widow said, his broken teeth gleaming with blood. “Yes. Now you know. He was a means to my end. Money from them got me my bomb. Money that came to me through him and at a cost.”

  “Me.” Alex Vaughn nearly choked on the word.

  “Americans.” The Russian closed his eyes and leaned back as if stretching his back. “You always think everything is about you.” He chuckled again. “Well, it is this time. But you ask all the wrong questions, like how did I get out of my shackles? This is the word, shackles, no?”

  Alex Vaughn crawled around on the floor like he was missing a contact and Sydney took a step forward to look as well. She wasn’t quite sure she knew what she was looking for yet, but she had the feeling it wasn’t a bucket full of good news and rainbows. Vaughn frantically scuffed left and right on his knees for another few desperate seconds then startled her as he whipped his Berretta out and leveled it at the Russian.

  Sydney pulled her own gun, startled at Alex Vaughn’s motion. She held her gun between the two men, not sure who deserved the barrel. Part of her thought Alex Vaughn might execute the Russian right there.

  “Alex, don’t do anything stupid.” She kept the gun even between the two men now staring at each other.

  Alex Vaughn ignored her and spoke directly to the Black Widow. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?” The Russian said. His mouth twitched as if he wanted to grin.

  Alex Vaughn kept his Beretta winking at the Russian and said turned to Sydney. “Go get Briggs. Right now. Call him back here.”

  “We have it under control, Alex. Put down your gun.” Sydney inched her gun towards the increasingly desperate ex-cop.

  He’s had a high stress day. What the fuck was I thinking bringing him here? Here to the man who might have killed his wife.

  Alex Vaughn ignored her. “Where the fuck is it?” he asked. His eyes narrowed on his captive. He cocked his gun. The click echoed across the chamber, pulling the full attention of the BPD, both of whom, up until now, were just as content to see the cop killer take a beating.

  She nodded them over and both men began to flank Alex Vaughn.

  The Black Widow looked left and right and grinned a ragged smile yet again. “I’m sorry. My English isn’t so good.”

  “Alex, your gun.” Sydney took another step forward. One of the BPD scuffed his show behind Alex Vaughn and he spun around. Both cops flinched and pulled their weapons up higher.

  Alex Vaughn’s eyes darted back and forth and sweat creased his brow. “Sydney, get Briggs back here.” He said it slow and forced; harnessing every bit of calm left to him in an effort to not shout the words.

  “Okay Alex. We will, just put the gun down.” Sydney put her hand out like she was calming a horse and slowly lowered her own weapon. To her relief Alex Vaughn lowered his and put it back on his side. The second it was put away he raised his hands in surrender.

  “Think about it Sydney. How did he get out of the cuffs?” Alex Vaughn’s eyes pleaded with her. “A fucking key.”

  Her jaw fell open and she put her finger to her ear to call it in when she heard Timms’ voice break over the comm. “Oh Jesus, Sydney. Conrad’s dead. They’re all dead.”

  Her heart leapt onto the floor. “Who’s dead?”

  His voice cracked. “Agent Conrad and the two cops we sent back to the staging area.”

  “You two watch him,” she said pointing at the Black Widow. She grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him towards the factory front door. “Briggs!” she shouted so loud she heard the echo in her earpiece. “Briggs!” She yelled again as she burst through the door and into the night. She could see him across the field, Dr. Tolbert walking next to him. “Briggs!”

  Chapter 26

  Ivan saw the cop car flashing its blue and red lights, bouncing along the uneven turf in a cloud of grey dust. The vehicle cut him off from Rafael Rontego and he knew that it was time to switch into another gear. He kicked his legs out further and pumped his arms faster. He felt his ankle almost turn in a hidden hole but flailed his arms and kept his balance. He ran until his lungs felt like they might burst out of his mouth and glancing back over his shoulder he hoped to catch a glimpse of Kira or Rafael or both.

  All he saw was darkness. Even the lights disappeared beyond a bend of the earth.

  He coughed and came to a halt. He knew there wasn’t much time for rest, but a few seconds now might buy him a few minutes more at a full on sprint. He leaned over, catching his breath, but remembered hearing somewhere you should keep your hands above your head so he did that instead.

  He scanned the horizon, trying to get his bearings. If Rafael Rontego was pinched he needed to warn Kira not to go to the meeting place.

  That cop came out of fucking nowhere.

  Everything was cast a pale grey haze and he knew that dawn wasn’t far off. He smiled. Eleven years, three months and seventeen…eighteen days had passed since he last saw a sunrise with her. His eyes felt wet and he blinked away the tears, keeping an eye on the long silhouette of the chain link fence that bordered the abandoned property. Beyond that fence was freedom and beyond that his daughter. He knew he had to track her down before they could break the assassin.

  “I couldn’t do it,” he mumbled. He started walking towards the shadows and he smiled despite himself. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill his oldest friend. Perhaps there was some humanity left in him after all. “Oh well, let those fuckers try and take us out when we’re together.” He kicked a stone and wa
tched it roll away. The fence was only fifty yards away or so. He would be up and over the chain link in a matter of minutes.

  Then I’ll grab Kira and lay low for a while.

  His mind wandered for a moment as he recalled holding her in his arms the night before he went away, his little brunette baby. She looks just like her mother, thank God. He wouldn’t wish his mug on a pit-bull. She was so small, back then. Her squeaky voice sounded like a duckling and her saucer eyes; her eyes remained exactly as he remembered. Except now her face had somehow grown into them. A beautiful woman.

  And capable. She freed us from the mousetrap.

  The fence was only fifteen yards away now. He’d reach the fence, jump over it, and wouldn’t stop running until he got to the rendezvous. His lips curled upward as he reflected on Kira with pride. As he thought about her he reached into his pocket absently and felt the familiar rectangle of gloss there. He felt the texture between his thumb and forefinger just as a gentle gust of wind whipped across his face.

  He heard a gentle rustle on the heels of the wind just as he reached the fence line and with his free hand he reached out to lift himself up and over but paused when the rustling continued and the wind paused to take a breath.

  “Ivan? Ivan Nivsky?” A thick voice whispered behind him. He knew the accent, olive oil tone and reeking of marinara, Italian. He smiled again.

  “I see the cavalry has arrived,” He turned but kept his hand in his pocket just in case. He didn’t have a gun but perhaps whoever this new arrival was wouldn’t know that little piece of information. “Chris send you?”

  “The Pope?” The Italian was slender. He was bronzed by years off the Sicilian coast. “Si. The Pope sends his regards.” Ivan took in the site of the man’s perfect smile. Blazing white surrounded by the dusk, his smile threatened to swallow his ears. A small warning itched along Ivan’s spine, but it was too late.