by Trace Conger
He reviewed the list and then looked at me. “I know they don’t play nice together.”
“That’s kinda the point.”
He looked at the list again. “Binoculars?”
“To watch the show,” I said.
“I don’t see why we don’t just walk in there and open fire on these asshats. Why all the MacGyver shit?”
“Because they’d expect us to walk in there and open fire. Holbrook was wearing a bullet-proof vest the first time I saw him. I imagine that’s part of his daily wardrobe.”
“Give me a few days and I could get a rifle powerful enough to take his head off from a quarter-mile away. Won’t matter what he’s wearing.”
“We don’t have a few days. Plus, I’m not just after Holbrook.” I thought back to that hornet’s nest Connor and I burned to the ground as kids. “We have to remove the whole colony. And we don’t have that much time.” I tapped the list in Connor’s hand. “I need you to get all of these things today.”
Connor looked at the note again. “I’ll get it.” He looked at me. “You gonna be able to get everyone together in one place to make this work?”
“I really hope so,” I said. “But you might get to do some shooting after all.” I tossed him the keys to the Escalade.
“What are you gonna do while I’m out shopping?”
“Take a long shower and get some rest.”
CONNOR RETURNED WITH ALL THE materials on the list by early evening. We stayed the night at the hotel to give Jamie enough time to knock out her part of the project. That night, I slept better than any other night since I took on Holbrook’s job.
The next morning, Connor loaded the materials he bought into the back of the Escalade. I loaded Holbrook’s suitcase in the back and we drove the twenty minutes to Jamie’s condo. I had no reason to believe Adler wouldn’t make good on his threat to kill Daryl if I didn’t deliver Holbrook’s money by Wednesday, and as long as Jamie delivered on her end, we’d be right on schedule.
A voice in my head urged me to call Holbrook now to tell him I had his money, but I still had some work to do before getting him face to face, and I didn’t want to give him any more time to prepare for our meeting than I had to.
We arrived at Jamie’s unit by nine o’clock in the morning. As soon as she opened her front door, she ushered us into the living room, as if eager to show us her handiwork.
“Is it all set?” I said.
“It’s perfect,” said Jamie pointing to the suitcase in the middle of the room. “But don’t open it. You’ll rip it in two.”
Connor looked at me. “Am I missing something?” he said. “How are we supposed to fill…”
“I’ll explain it all later,” I interrupted. I turned back to Jamie. “It’s watertight?”
“I’d bet my life on it,” she said.
“It’s not your life I’m worried about.” I grabbed the suitcase and wheeled it to the door.
“So, we’re done then?”
“You’re done,” I said. “Connor and I’ve got a bit more work to do.”
“How will I know when it’s over? When I can stop worrying about who’s knocking on my door?”
“I’ll let you know.” Connor and I stepped out into the breezeway and headed to the Escalade.
“What’s next?” said Connor.
“There’s an abandoned industrial park a few miles up the road. We’ll take care of everything else there.”
WE PULLED INTO ZALESKI PARK, an industrial complex that, according to the empty parking lots and dilapidated factories, was long past its prime. Connor parked behind a fading gray building, and we went to work.
I yanked the suitcase from the back while Connor gathered the supplies.
“How much faith do you have in her?” said Connor. “How do we know she didn’t just zip this thing up and leave it in her living room?”
“This is her out too, so I’ve got a lot of faith in her. But keep your weapon close when we get there. If this plan goes to shit, you’re going to need to mop things up pretty quickly.”
I went to the bag of supplies and removed a drill with a 1/2-inch auger bit. I chucked the bit into the drill and cut two holes on opposite sides of the suitcase, near the top. I poked a finger in and felt for the Naugahyde partition. It was there just like Jamie said it was.
I went back to the bag and pulled out two plastic funnels, which I stuck into the 1/2-inch holes in the suitcase.
“Which side you want?” I said.
Connor shook his head. “I’ll take the powder I guess.” He went to the back of the Escalade, pulled out the first tub of pool chlorine and started filling one side of the suitcase through the funnel.
I opened the large black plastic jugs and poured the liquid into the other side, holding my breath for the first fifteen seconds. “If this thing starts to sizzle, run,” I said.
“Just try to catch up.”
After ten minutes, Connor and I had used half of the ingredients. We stepped back and surveyed the suitcase. It was stable.
“I’ll be damned,” said Connor. “That’s twice you came through when I doubted you.”
“Hope there isn’t a third.”
Breathing a little easier, we finished filling both sides of the suitcase. I removed the two plastic funnels and then sealed the 1/2-inch holes with epoxy. Then I placed a patch of duct tape over both sealed holes. The tape wasn’t a perfect match against the gray suitcase, but it came close.
“Sticks out a bit,” said Connor grinning.
“I’m hoping the promise of $5 million in cash inside might distract him. Plus, it’s better than seeing the epoxy.”
I stood up and inspected the suitcase. The mixture held, and I hoped the lining was as watertight as Jamie said it was. “Okay, moment of truth,” I said. I carefully tilted the suitcase on it’s wheels and rolled it to the back of Connor’s Escalade.
“I’m second-guessing our choice to bring my car,” said Connor as he gripped the other side of the suitcase and helped me lift it into the back of the SUV.
We both stepped back and watched as nothing happened. Then I grabbed my phone.
Forty Six
I TOOK A DEEP BREATH and dialed Holbrook’s cell phone. Adler answered it on the second ring.
“I’ve got Holbrook’s money, and I’ll be at the farm at 11:00 am.” I hung up before he could offer an alternative plan.
The next call I made was to Micah Dunbar. I told him that I was heading to Holbrook’s farm and that he’d be out of business by lunch, giving Dunbar the green light to do whatever he needed to do to move into Indianapolis.
CONNOR AND I PULLED ONTO IN-135 north, and drove slower than normal on account of the suitcases in the back. We turned onto the two-lane road that led to Triple Bend Farm, and pulled over next to the decaying gray barn that teetered a quarter mile from our final destination. The rusted-out tractor and harvester that sat under the leaning planks looked like they hadn’t moved in two decades. Connor stepped out of the passenger side and grabbed the silver suitcase from the back.
“You sure you got the right one?” I said.
“Of course.” Connor closed the lift gate. “From where I’ll be, I won’t be able to see if things go south.”
“You’ll hear it before you see it.”
Connor looked off toward Holbrook’s farm and then back at me.
“Good luck, little brother,” he said tapping the top of the suitcase.
“You too. If all goes well, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”
Connor nodded and was off with the suitcase tight in his arms. I slapped the shifter into drive and pulled back out onto the main road. A minute later, I turned onto the entrance to Holbrook’s farm.
Nerves are a funny thing. They steal your appetite, fuck with your health, and even throw off your reflexes. I’d been in this business long enough to temper my anxiety to get the job done, but this time, it felt different. I imagined i
t was similar to what a military sniper felt when taking aim at the enemy from a few hundred yards out. One chance.
I was about to walk into a hornet’s nest, and there was an absolute guarantee that something bad would happen, the only question was who would it happen to?
I drove up the winding driveway to Holbrook’s home, my hands coated in salty sweat. I swallowed hard and walked through the next ten minutes in my head. When I arrived at the colonial-style home, I found Holbrook, Adler, Darby, and two other men waiting for me near the front porch.
I rubbed my palms down my jeans and stepped out of the car.
“That’s far enough,” said Holbrook.
He motioned to Adler who patted me down the same way he had when I first visited the ranch. He wouldn’t find my .45 unless he looked under the driver’s seat.
“Where’s my money?”
“Dr. Jennings first,” I said.
Holbrook looked up at me and didn’t speak. For a moment I didn’t think he would say anything, but he finally motioned to one of the other men who walked inside the home and returned with Daryl. The duct tape was gone from his mouth, but the dark blood stains on his white button-up shirt revealed the ass kicking he’d taken while in Holbrook’s custody.
For the first time, the irony came full circle. I’d spent the last two weeks trying to protect Daryl, and by association Brooke and Becca, from the repercussion of his own stupidity.
I motioned to Daryl to get into the Escalade.
“The money,” said Holbrook.
I slipped my hand inside my pocket and pressed a button on Connor’s key fob. The Escalade chirped and the lift gate slowly opened into the air. Darby and Adler approached the back of the vehicle and yanked the suitcase onto the ground.
Holbrook stepped over to the case and hovered above it. “Open it.”
Adler unzipped the suitcase and pulled it apart. Twenty-five bricks of one-hundred-dollar bills spilled out onto the driveway. I looked at Adler, who tapped his right index finger against the side of his holstered weapon. I couldn’t tell what he was carrying, and I hoped I wouldn’t get a closer look.
“How much is here?” said Holbrook.
“Two-and-a-half million,” I said.
“You’re light.” Holbrook looked up at me. “Why is that?”
Adler slid his hand in place on his weapon’s grip and looked like he was about to pull.
“Call me paranoid,” I said. “But I thought it foolish to walk in here and hand you two suitcases of money when your man over there threatened to kill me just a few days ago.”
“I only see one suitcase,” said Holbrook.
“I’ll tell you the location of the other one once Dr. Jennings and I are safely off this property. Figured that’d be a nice insurance policy against someone doing something stupid.” The sneer disappeared from Adler’s face. “And I’ll also tell you where you can find the Banker. Then you can go do to him all the shitty things you were planning to do to us.”
Adler smirked, still gripping his piece. “You think we can’t get to you?”
“I know you can get to me. Counting on it, actually.” I pointed to the two men standing next to Adler. “But the next time we see each other, it’ll be a fair fight.”
I turned to see Daryl watching from the passenger side window. Holbrook ran his hands up to his chin, and thought for a moment. He was a businessman and knew Daryl and I weren’t worth throwing away two and a half million in cash. If he killed us, he’d never see the rest of his money. He turned to Adler and called him off. Adler slid his hand across his belt and tucked his thumb into his right front pocket. I exhaled for what seemed like the first time since I’d arrived.
“Okay,” said Holbrook. “Off you go then. You’ve got two minutes to make that call or we come after you. And out here, there’s no place to hide.”
“And Dr. Jennings is out of the fentanyl business,” I said. “Completely out.”
Holbrook nodded. “I’m a man of my word. I’ll stay away from him.”
I walked to the driver side and reached for the handle. It took two attempts to open the door thanks to my numb fingertips and damp palms. It took another two attempts to slide the key into the ignition. Finally, I fired the engine and headed back down the driveway to the main road.
A minute later I dialed Holbrook.
“Where is it?”
“The other suitcase is in your quarantine stable.”
“In my own barn?” I sensed a smile on the other end of the line.
“That’s right.”
“And the Banker?”
“His address is inside the second suitcase. Happy hunting.” I hung up the phone.
A QUARTER MILE LATER, I pulled off the road and parked behind the old storage barn where I’d dropped off Connor. I grabbed my binoculars from the console, jumped out of the SUV, crouched in front of the decaying tractor, and aimed the binoculars at the quarantine stable. Through the lenses I saw Connor standing behind the stable. Off in the distance, Holbrook and his men approached the front of the stable at a swift clip. Once they arrived, Holbrook unlocked the padlock from the door, slipped it into his pocket and walked into the stable, his men following close behind.
I watched as Connor waited. I couldn’t see the inside of the stable, but I knew what was happening. Holbrook and his men approached the suitcase that Connor had placed inside, eager to see the money and the Banker’s information. Holbrook opened the case or ordered one of his men to do it.
The next series of events unfolded in complete precision. Whoever opened the suitcase inadvertently tore the Naugahyde partition. As the partition ripped in two, it allowed the twenty pounds of calcium hypochlorite to mix with the three gallons of non-synthetic brake fluid. At first, the combination would produce a loud hiss and thick white smoke, which would send Holbrook and his men running for the stable entrance, but Connor would have already slammed the door shut and locked it with his own padlock. Within five seconds, the contents of the suitcase, now saturated, would ignite in a ball of fire that would reach the top of the stable. In small amounts, the reaction would only last a matter of seconds, but given the quantity of oxidizing agents and fuel we stuffed into the suitcase, this particular reaction could continue for several minutes. Generally, fire doubles in size every thirty to sixty seconds, but that’s without an accelerant. Our suitcase of pool cleaner and brake fluid combined with the hay on the barn’s floor and the dozen hay bales lining the walls would kick those statistics in the ass and engulf the stable in less than a minute.
I didn’t need the binoculars to see what happened next. A bright orange plume danced out from the side of the stable. It looked playful at first, but then the flames turned more violent and clawed at the sky with orange tentacles. A wall of thick smoke billowed out of the barn, the wind carrying it off to the east, weaving a patchwork of black-and-gray smoke and blue-and-white sky.
A minute later, the first flames erupted from the roof. They burst through the wooden beams like an out-of-breath swimmer coming up for air.
I peered through the binoculars again to find Connor standing about a hundred feet from the barn, his Glock raised waiting for any survivors to slip out of the crumbling side wall, but no one came. After a few minutes, he turned, waved at me, and then charged toward the main house. I stepped back into the SUV, threw it into gear, and kicked up enough gravel that I expected the storage barn to crumble behind us.
Daryl and I closed the quarter mile and the winding driveway in thirty seconds and pulled to a stop in front of Connor, who slammed the handle down into the first suitcase, heaved it into the back seat, and then climbed in after it.
“Let’s go,” he yelled, but I had already buried the accelerator. We stopped at the end of Holbrook’s driveway and watched the stable’s roof collapse into the structure releasing violent plumes of smoke and flames high into the sky.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed. Dunbar answered. “It’s done,” I said. “Indian
apolis is open for business.” I hung up and slammed my right foot onto the accelerator.
Forty Seven
WE TORE AWAY FROM HOLBROOK’S farm with two-and-a-half million in cash and 190 pounds of dead weight. Daryl didn’t say much on the ride back. He stared out the passenger window and wore a look that said he was glad to leave Holbrook behind, but wasn’t sure what awaited him in Cincinnati.
I didn’t know what Brooke would do with him, but having been the subject of her wrath before, I felt bad for him.
Connor, on the other hand, wore a beaming smile that could just as easily be seen from Boston as from Cincinnati. I’d learned more about my brother in the last few weeks than I’d learned in the previous twenty years. We never had a strained relationship, just one built on unfamiliarity, a gap that maybe we’d begun to close.
I pulled off the interstate and drove to the Greyhound station in downtown Indianapolis. I turned to Daryl in the passenger seat. “You got your wallet with you?”
Daryl leaned forward and checked his back pocket. “I’ve got it, why?”
“Just want to make sure you can buy a bus ticket back home.”
Daryl looked out the front window at the line of busses and grinned. “I’d rather rent a car.”
“You can do that here, too,” I said. “I’m sure they can set you up with a nice ride. Maybe not as nice as your Mercedes, but something that’ll get you home in one piece.”
He waited for a moment to see if I was joking. I wasn’t. He opened the passenger door and climbed out of the Escalade. He started toward the building’s entrance, but stopped and walked back to the car. I rolled down the passenger window.
“Finn.” He looked like a man who’d lost his job. “I’m really not that big of a fuck-up as I might appear at the moment. Things kind of just snowballed. I had no idea any of this would happen.” He reached his hand through the open window. “Thanks for getting me out of this. For everything.”