Riley's Rogues: Twilight Zone

by Raymond Fiore

  “Well, I have to take that last one back, Riley.” Then to the man hitting Riley, the man in charge said, “Milo says kill him.”

  Riley’s throat tightened at those words. He could feel the ropes that bound him to the chair being cut, but his hands were still tied together. Hands grabbed Riley and roughly dragged him across the concrete floor and then across dirt.

  “There!” the man in charge said. Riley was stood up and bounced against a wall.

  “Don’t move,” a low, scratchy voice breathed in Riley’s face. The hands that held him up were gone. Riley tried in vain to peek out from under the blindfold.

  A burst of submachine gun fire cut threw the air, causing Riley to flinch. Shouts and more shots were followed by hands grabbing Riley and pulling him to the ground. Then his blindfold was pulled off.

  “Inspector Branston,” Riley said. “I never thought I’d be happy to see you.”

  “And I never thought I’d be saving your life.” Branston stood Riley up and cut his hands free.

  “Do you mind telling me how you found me?”

  “A neighbor saw a man fitting your description being carried from that apartment building. She didn’t think it looked right, so she called the police. We were able to tail the car, but since we thought it was you, we wanted to wait and see what developed.”

  “Yeah, thanks for waiting,” Riley said as he rubbed his jaw. He looked around and saw three men on the ground, dead. Obviously his kidnappers, he thought. Police were busy securing the area and gathering evidence.

  “What was this all about, Riley?” Branston asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Inspector.”

  “That’s the way you’re going to play this? After saving your hide?” Branston was visibly angered.

  “Are you charging me with anything?”

  “Not right now, Riley.”

  “Then I’ll be on my way. And, uh, thanks,” Riley slapped the inspector on his arm and walked away.

  He needed transportation and information, but not necessarily in that order. He started heading north along Ferrick Blvd. A quick check of his pockets told him what he already knew, empty. A left turn on Cyprian Street led him to a bar he knew well, The Wicked Strange.

  Riley stepped into the dark interior, stopped for a moment to let his eyes adjust, then took a seat at the bar.

  “Hey, Riley, haven’t seen you in a spell,” the female bartender said as she approached. “What the hell happened to your face?” she said as she held a bar towel up to his left cheek.

  “Minor disagreement,” he muttered. “Kassie, I need a big favor, actually three favors.”

  “What is it this time?”

  “I need a car. I need a gun. And I need information,” Riley said.

  “Here, hold this,” Kassie said. Riley replaced her hand with his on the towel. She went to the cash register, opened it and retrieved a set of keys. “Parked out back. Please don’t break it.”

  “Thanks. What about a gun?”

  “Can’t help you there. What’s the information you need?”

  “Ever heard of Wayne Hardisty?”

  Kassie let her head drop a bit and bit her lip as she tried to think of where she had heard that name before. “Isn’t he the guy that just got off on a technicality for that bribery case. I saw it on the newsvid the other day.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “What’s he to you?”

  “I need to find someone that works for him, named Vanessa,” Riley pulled the towel away and looked at it. The blood had stopped flowing at least.

  “Can’t help you there either,” Kassie said. “You need to talk to Maksymilian Drazek.”

  “I don’t think so. Last time we talked, he tried to kill me,” Riley said.

  “He’s about your only hope,” Kassie looked into Riley’s eyes. “You want me to call him for you?”

  “Okay, just don’t tell him it’s me.”

  “You got it, Babe.”

  * * *

  An hour later Riley was sitting in the back of the bar, in the darkest corner he could find, when the front door opened. Three men entered. One took up station just inside the door and waited. The other two walked to the bar where one of them said something to Kassie. She nodded in Riley’s direction.

  The two men looked towards the back of the bar for a moment, then started walking slowly in Riley’s direction. When they got close enough to recognize him, they stopped short.

  “Riley!” the first man said. The second man started reaching inside his coat.

  “Hold on, Max!” Riley held both hands up in front of him. “I’ve got a proposition for you with a big payoff at the end.”

  Drazek placed his hand over his companions hand, keeping him from drawing his weapon. “A big payoff?” Drazek sat down across from Riley. With a wave of his hand, his companion retreated back to the bar and watched from there.

  “Yeah. But I need your help first.”

  “Of course you do, Riley. Just like last time?” Drazek pulled a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it.

  “That wasn’t my fault, Max. I didn’t double-cross you. It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstandings are the leading cause of death in these parts. Did you know that?” Drazek let a puff of smoke out between he and Riley.

  Ignoring that remark, Riley said, “I need to find a girl named Vanessa, works for Wayne Hardisty. She has something of mine that’s very valuable and I need to retrieve it. We can then sell it and split the profits 50/50.”

  “I think 70/30 sounds a little more fair to me,” Drazek said.

  “Sixty forty, and I have to do all the dirty work,” Riley countered.

  Drazek pondered for a moment, took another drag, then said, “Okay, deal. If she works for Hardisty, she will be easy to find.”

  “I don’t think she works for him anymore,” Riley said. “I think she’s gone into business for herself.”

  “That will make it a little harder,” Drazek said.

  “But not impossible?”

  “Nothing’s impossible, Riley, when you have the right contacts.”

  “I also need a gun.”

  “Do you need bullets, too?” Drazek’s voice oozed sarcasm. He held his hand up and snapped his fingers. The man at the bar came up to the table. “Give Riley your pistol.”

  “What?” the man’s eyes widened.

  “Give it to him, then go wait in the car.” The man did as he was told and left.

  “Don’t try to cheat me Riley,” Drazek said, as he leaned forward.

  “Don’t worry, Max. It’s a small planet,” Riley said as he checked the pistol.

  “And don’t try to leave it. Where can I reach you?”

  “Just call here,” Riley said.

  “Okay. You’ll hear from me within the hour.”

  * * *

  Forty minutes later Riley was driving as fast as he dared towards the spaceport. Drazek had called and told him that Vanessa was booked on an off-world flight that was scheduled to depart soon. Riley pulled into the spaceport parking lot, locked Kassie’s car, then headed for the main terminal building.

  He knew he wouldn’t be able to get a pistol through spaceport security stations, so he casually moved next to a porter loading a passenger’s baggage onto a wheeled cart. When no one was looking, Riley slid his pistol between two bags, out of sight. Baggage didn’t have to go through the security checkpoints just to enter the terminal. They would be thoroughly scanned later, before being loaded onto spaceships.

  Riley made his way through the security checkpoint, then waited by the door through which the baggage carts entered. When the cart carrying Riley’s pistol entered, he moved next to it and after a quick glance around, he retrieved his pistol and slipped it into his coat pocket.

  Checking the large screen that showed the current flight schedule, he saw that Vanessa’s flight was due to depart in 20 minutes at gate 48D. Riley checked the “you are here”
map and found that gate 48D was on the far side of the spaceport. “Of course it is,” he said as he hurried through the crowd.

  When he approached gate 48D he slowed down. There was a crowd gathered near the hatchway leading to the boarding ramp, obviously the passengers lining up to board. As he moved slowly forward, always staying near the periphery of the crowd, he looked for Vanessa. Nothing. Riley moved to a position behind a column where he could keep an eye on the crowd.

  The boarding steward had started letting passengers through the hatchway, but as always, it was a slow, laborious process.

  Maybe Drazek’s information was wrong. Maybe she’s on another flight.

  Riley quickly ran through his options. Stay and wait, hoping she would show up? Probably his best bet. Call Drazek to confirm his information or get an update? Riley didn’t have Drazek’s comm number, so that was out. Move through the terminal, hoping to catch a glimpse of Vanessa? The main terminal was too large to make that a practical option. Just when he thought he was out of options, he saw the top of her head. Or what he thought was her head, moving through the crowd.

  Riley made his way around the side of the crowd, trying to cut her off. He reached a point where she was moving straight at him, with only a few people between them, when a large man with red hair grabbed her arm from behind and spun her around. Riley stopped short.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” the man said.

  “Wayne! I . . . was . . .” she stammered.

  “Spare me,” Hardisty said, snatching the briefcase from her hand and passing it to an even larger man standing behind him. “Let’s go.” He started for the terminal exit, forcing Vanessa along with him.

  Riley worked his way through the crowd, keeping the three of them in sight. When they had moved away from the crowd and were clear, Riley slowly pulled his pistol from his coat and held it at his side.

  “Hardisty!” Riley called from behind.

  Hardisty stopped, slowly turned around, still holding the girl. Hardisty’s companion also stopped and slowly moved to the side so that he had a clear view of Riley.

  “Who the hell are you?” Hardisty asked.

  “No one you need to know,” Riley said.

  “Let me guess, you want the girl?” Hardisty’s mouth contorted into a sneer.

  “No, actually, I want my briefcase back.”

  “I don’t think so,” Hardisty said as he simultaneously pulled a pistol from his pocket and ducked behind Vanessa. His companion also dropped into a crouch and pulled a pistol.

  Riley dove to his right as shots from Hardisty whizzed by him. Sliding on the smooth floor, Riley was able to fire two shots, both hitting the man holding the briefcase, who sprawled backwards to the ground, dropping the briefcase on his way down. Riley then turned to aim at Hardisty when a bullet hit him in his left thigh. Wincing through the pain, Riley was able to shakily place his front sight on the portion of Hardisty’s head that was visible behind Vanessa’s. He squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

  Beads of sweat rolled into his eyes as Riley slowly opened them. He saw Hardisty on the ground, motionless. People were screaming and crying. Vanessa was running away. The briefcase was lying on the ground, off to the side. His eyes closed again, as voices started shouting, seemingly in slow motion. A foot kicked Riley’s gun from his hand. He opened his eyes again as he was roughly turned onto his stomach and his hands were cuffed behind his back. Sirens were approaching outside the terminal.

  He opened his eyes again and looked over towards the briefcase. Maksymilian Drazek was squatting in front of the briefcase, away from the crowd gathering around the scene. He opened it, looked inside, then closed it. He looked at Riley, nodded and smiled, then stood up and walked away with the briefcase. Riley’s eyes closed again.

  * * *

  When he opened his eyes again, the scream of a siren was in his ear. The gentle rocking told him he was in an ambulance, hopefully en route to a hospital.

  “So, Riley,” Inspector Branston started, “maybe you want to tell me what this one was all about?”

  Riley looked up into Branston’s eyes, but could say nothing.

  “Don’t worry, they tell me you’ll live.” Branston sat back against the side of the ambulance. “You killed Wayne Hardisty. Did us all a favor with that one.”

  “He drew first,” Riley croaked.

  “Hmm, that’s what witnesses said, too. So, maybe we don’t prosecute you. This time.”

  “Thanks for nothing,” Riley said.

  “You’re trouble, Riley,” Branston pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and was about to light one when the ambulance attendant shook his head as he pointed to the oxygen tank. Branston put the pack of cigarettes back into his pocket. “I want you off of my planet. As soon as you’re released from the hospital. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I hear you, Branston. This planet’s getting a little small for me anyway,” Riley said as his eyes slowly closed.

  End

  Also by Raymond Fiore:

  “Wings Over The Pacific”

  A World War II novel.

  Available now!

  “Riley’s Rogues”

  The beginning of the Riley’s Rogues saga.

  Available now!

  “Riley’s Rogues: Darkstorm”

  The next installment of the Riley’s Rogues saga.

  Coming soon!

  For more information, visit www.rileysrogues.com.

  Follow the author on Twitter: @rayfiore, for the latest updates on new releases and promotions.