Sharp Teeth and Bloody Claws (Gray Spear Society Book 12)

by Alex Siegel

  His gaze settled on the pickup truck again. The color of the door was slightly off, and the wheel hubs were rusty. One spot on the front looked like the sheet metal had been patched and painted over. Another spot had rusted through.

  "Hold on," he whispered. "This isn't the right truck."

  "What do you mean?" Katie said. "It's red. It's the right shape."

  "Yes, but the one in the video was new. This one isn't."

  Hanley took a small flashlight off his belt and crept over to the truck. He shined the light underneath and saw plenty of rust, and some parts had clearly been replaced.

  He called Marina.

  "Yes?" she said.

  "We may have a problem, ma'am. Can you check the video again? Tell me the condition of the red truck."

  There was a long pause. "It looks new."

  "Any patches or rust?" Hanley said.

  "Not that I can see. Why?"

  "This is the wrong truck. Somebody is playing games with us. The weird part is the license plate is right, and so is the model and color."

  "Duplicate license plates on similar vehicles," Marina said. "A tricky way to throw off pursuit."

  "And effective, ma'am. Now we're screwed. We have no idea where the real truck is."

  Hanley heard Aaron and Marina chatting in the background. Their sentences were quick and terse, and they completed each other's thoughts. Hanley was a little envious of their close relationship. He had been married, but he had never worked with his wife the way Aaron and Marina did.

  "Aaron suggests you talk to the owner of the truck," Marina said. "If we're lucky, he'll know something about the duplicate plates."

  "Very lucky."

  "You have a better idea?"

  "No, ma'am. Bye." Hanley hung up and turned to Katie. "Let's find Ipo."

  They crept around the house. The lawn was just flat grass, and there were no bushes or fences in the way, but he also had nothing to hide behind.

  Hanley's palms itched, but he resisted the urge to scratch. The irritation was getting worse. The affected areas looked like fresh burn wounds. He decided he couldn't put off seeing a doctor much longer, and he would ask Marina for time to visit one tomorrow.

  Liam was peeking in through a back window, but Hanley didn't see Ipo anywhere. A surprising tap on the shoulder made Hanley spin around. Ipo was standing there, and he was like a mountain of darkness in his body armor.

  "I wish I could be that sneaky," Hanley said.

  "Practice," Ipo said. "What are you doing back here?"

  Katie had wide eyes. She had been startled too.

  Hanley whistled for Liam to come over, and when everybody was together, Hanley explained the situation.

  "I suppose that's good news in a way," Ipo said. "We saw a wife and kids through the window. I didn't like the idea of taking away their father forever. I know what to do. Follow me."

  He led the group around the house to the front door. He gestured for his companions to stay back, so Hanley, Katie, and Liam found dark spots to hide in.

  Ipo knocked on the door. A moment later, it opened and light spilled out. Hanley heard a brief, quiet scuffle, and then the door closed.

  "Come out," Ipo said softly.

  Hanley emerged from his hiding spot. Ipo had his thick arm wrapped around a man's neck, and Ipo's hand was clamped over the man's mouth. Hanley presumed it was Bill Walker. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt with the words "Good Ol' Boy" printed on it.

  "Calm down," Ipo whispered in his ear. "We just want to talk, but you have to be quiet. This is a private conversation. Can you do that for me?"

  Walker nodded. Ipo released him and stepped back. When Walker saw all four legionnaires and the many weapons they were carrying, the blood drained from his face.

  "We're here because of your truck," Hanley said.

  Walker glanced at his truck. "What's wrong with it?" His voice was shaky.

  "Somebody else is driving another truck which is very similar, and it has the same license plates. We're after that guy."

  "I don't know anything about that."

  Hanley could tell Walker wasn't lying. His eyes showed only innocent terror.

  "Maybe you know more than you think," Hanley said. "Does this truck have an interesting history?"

  "I bought it a couple of months ago. I got a great deal because it was salvaged. The plates came with the truck."

  Hanley perked up. Auto wreckers were notorious for shady business practices. They made money by selling junk for much more than it was worth. They routinely handled cars with a questionable ownership history. It was easy to see such people filing fraudulent DMV paperwork to acquire duplicate plates.

  "Who salvaged it?"

  "I don't know," Walker said. "I got it through a dealer."

  Hanley went over to the truck. "Pop open the hood."

  "Why?"

  Hanley put a hand on the butt of a .45 caliber pistol in a holster. "Because the guy with the big guns is asking." He glared.

  Walker ran over, took out his car keys, opened the door, and popped the hood. Hanley used his flashlight to examine the engine.

  Ipo came over. "What are you looking for?"

  "The VIN," Hanley said. "There is usually one on the front of the engine block."

  He located the sequence of seventeen letters and numbers punched into the metal. He took out his phone and called Min Ho.

  "Sir?" the hacker said.

  "I have a VIN for the truck. Tell me who wrecked it, and who salvaged it."

  Hanley read the sequence into the phone.

  After a moment, Min Ho said, "It was wrecked by Ace of Diamonds Auto Wreckers. There is no record of it being salvaged. It should still be in the junkyard."

  Hanley smiled with satisfaction. His instincts had been right. "Where is Ace of Diamonds?"

  "Not far from you, sir. Near the intersection of Monterey and Southside."

  "Tell Marina that's where we're going."

  "Yes, sir," Min Ho said.

  Hanley put away his phone and stood proudly.

  Ipo raised his eyebrows. "You're jumping to conclusions."

  "It's a good lead. I can feel it in my gut."

  "Well, we're fresh out of other leads, so we might as well trust your gut. Let's go."

  * * *

  Hanley could tell something was up even before he saw the sign for Ace of Diamonds Auto Wreckers. Cars were parked up and down the block wherever there was space. Men were posted on the street corners, and they were clearly standing watch. The junkyard was in a commercial neighborhood, so there was no good reason for a crowd to gather so late at night.

  "Somebody threw a party and didn't invite us," Katie said.

  "Good thing we're wearing our party crasher suits," Hanley said.

  He slowly drove past the entrance to the junkyard. Big men wearing black T-shirts and jeans were guarding the gate, and they had the solid stances of professionals. If they were carrying guns, it wasn't obvious. Hanley kept driving.

  "I'd better call the boss," Ipo said.

  He opened his phone, put it in speaker mode, and made a call.

  "Report," Marina said.

  "There is something happening at the junkyard, ma'am," Ipo said. "A big crowd and decent security."

  "Investigate cautiously. We have no idea what's going on in there. It could be extremely bad. Stay together and watch each other's backs."

  "Yes, ma'am. We'll be careful. Bye." Ipo put away his phone.

  * * *

  Marina looked at Aaron. Her lover was frowning, and she shared his unspoken concerns. They hadn't expected to find a crowd at the junkyard in the middle of the night, and surprises were never good during a mission. She recalled blood curdling horrors from past missions which had come as a surprise.

  "We'd better head down there," she said. "They might need backup."

  He nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. It can't hurt to be in the area just in case."

  "But it's a long drive. I think
we should take the helicopter."

  "You have a helicopter?"

  "I didn't tell you?" Marina smiled. "It's my latest toy. It's parked in the Half Moon Bay Airport which is just ten minutes from here. Come on!"

  * * *

  Hanley drove around the junkyard. Parked cars were packed together, and judging by their quality, he guessed the people who drove them had low incomes. He finally found an open spot on the back side of the junkyard, and he parked there.

  "Some kind of cult gathering?" he suggested.

  "Or an illegal prize fight," Liam said. "I've been in a few of those."

  Then why are you such a wimp? Hanley thought.

  The four legionnaires got out of the van. They were still wearing advanced body armor and a full set of weapons.

  He heard people yelling in the distance, and they sounded excited rather than afraid. A musical drumbeat thudded like a giant heart. Maybe Liam was right.

  A tall fence with spools of barbed wire on top protected the junkyard. Thin strips of wood were woven into the wire, but there were gaps between the strips. Hanley took a peek and saw stacks of crushed cars. Floodlights illuminated the entire junkyard banishing all shadows.

  "I don't see any guards," he said. "I suggest we cut through the fence here."

  "We have to watch out for dogs," Ipo said. "Have a gun with a suppressor in your hand."

  Hanley went to the back of the van and opened the doors. The team had brought standard gear for a mission which included bolt cutters. After searching for a moment, he found the cutters in one of the gray duffle bags. He went to the fence and began snipping the wire.

  "With all that party noise," he said, "at least we don't have to worry about being very quiet."

  Ipo was already holding his gun. "I just wish we could take out the lights, but shooting the bulbs would attract attention. I want to know what we're dealing with before we start causing trouble."

  "If one bulb 'burned out,' it wouldn't be so bad. A little darkness in the right spot would be a big help. These outfits were made for night operations."

  "That's true. I'll take care of it."

  Ipo retrieved a light sniper rifle from the supplies. It was already fitted with a scope and a suppressor. From a standing position, he shot at the nearest flood lamp and broke it on the first try.

  "Nice," Hanley said.

  He finished snipping a hole in the fence. As he was putting the cutters away, he glanced at his other companions. Katie appeared uneasy, but her face was set in an expression of stubborn determination. He was confident she would fight if called upon. Liam, on the other hand, kept shifting his weight like a nervous child. His arms were crossed in a defensive posture. Hanley recognized the signs of a soldier who might flee at an inopportune moment.

  "Liam," Hanley said, "stay close. Do what we do, and don't freak out."

  "Sure." Liam nodded.

  Hanley wasn't convinced. He grabbed a spool of string from the supplies and said, "Let's go in."

  Ipo led the way into the junkyard. Katie and Liam were the weakest members of the team, so they had the privilege of going in the middle of the column where it was safest.

  Hanley brought up the rear. After ducking through the hole in the fence, he used the string to tie the snipped section back in place. The patch wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny, but from a distance, the fence looked whole.

  Staying low, he looked around. Crushed cars were stacked three, four, even five deep. Cars in better condition were off to the side, and he guessed they were sources of spare parts.

  "Onward," Ipo whispered.

  * * *

  Rat-man looked down into the arena. He had been looking forward to this particular fight.

  Two Pit Bull Terriers were facing each other from opposite sides of the circular arena, and they were growling fiercely. Wire mesh kept the dogs from jumping out and attacking the audience. Their owners were using leashes to hold the dogs back, but they were pulling hard against the leather. They wanted to kill as much as the members of the audience wanted to see them kill. The arena was splattered with blood from previous matches.

  "Final call for bets!" Rat-man yelled. "Place your bets now!"

  He watched the bookies to make sure they weren't sneaking some of the money into their own pockets. The temptation to steal from the house was strong even though they knew the punishment was severe. Pit Bulls had multiple uses.

  It was a good crowd tonight. Rat-man estimated two hundred people had come to see the fights, and they were in the mood to gamble. He smiled as he watched money changing hands. A juicy cut of that action went directly to him.

  Finally, all the bets were placed, and everybody's attention focused on the arena. Raised bench seating allowed most people to have at least a partial view, but some had to wait off to the side. They only cared about which dog won anyway. Rat-man had the nicest seat in the house, of course.

  "Now!" he yelled.

  The leashes were released, and the dogs immediately attacked. He didn't know their names, but one was brown and the other was white. The white dog slammed into its opponent and knocked it over. The brown dog was momentarily exposed, and the white dog took advantage by clamping its jaws on the brown dog's pink belly. The brown dog thrashed and managed to escape, but it left a trail of blood on the dirt floor of the arena.

  With lightning quickness, the brown dog bit the white dog's face. There was loud growling as the white dog struggled. Finally, it pulled away, but its right eye was damaged and part of its lip was torn off.

  Rat-man grinned. This was good stuff!

  The injuries didn't slow down either animal. They knew weakness meant death. The brown dog went for its opponent's neck, and the white dog targeted the injured belly. They thrashed violently as they tried to tear each other apart.

  Finally, the white dog managed to pull out its enemy's intestines. The brown dog fought for another minute, but the battle was effectively over. It whimpered as it died. The white dog continued to chew on the corpse just in case.

  "White wins!" Rat-man announced to mark the result as official. Half the crowd surged towards the bookies to claim their winnings, and the other half had looks of disgust.

  Rat-man kissed a beautiful girl in a halter top and shorts sitting next to him. She was there only because powerful men were expected to have beautiful women at their side, but it was just for show. He would certainly never have sex with her. These days, all his sexual partners were four-legged and furry.

  "Clean up the arena," he yelled. "Let's get ready for the next fight!"

  * * *

  Marina stopped the car in the Half Moon Bay Airport. A helicopter was sitting on a private asphalt pad, and it was the only one in sight. She had made special arrangements with the airport which normally only handled airplanes.

  The helicopter was painted a sexy black and silver. It could carry two pilots in front and four passengers in the rear. Dual turbines could put out 700 horsepower apiece and achieve a cruising speed of 150 miles per hour. It had a sharp nose and retractable landing gear for aerodynamic efficiency.

  Marina and Aaron stepped out of the car.

  "Pretty," he said.

  She smiled. "I love it."

  "What are those?" He pointed at bulbs mounted on the sides of the helicopter.

  "Pop out chain guns. This baby has teeth. You want to fly her? You've been taking helicopter lessons, right?"

  "Yes, but it's night, we're on a mission, and this is unfamiliar territory. I think the experienced pilot should be holding the controls."

  "You're probably right," Marina said.

  She climbed into the cockpit and started the engine. The leather upholstery was as soft as butter, and she ran her fingers across it while she waited for the engine to warm up.

  Aaron tossed a gray duffle bag into the passenger area, and it landed with a metallic clank.

  He sat in the co-pilot's seat. "You really splurged on this thing. Custom interior. Digital instrumentation."r />
  "The commander of San Francisco should fly in style."

  He snorted. "Let's not get carried away. The commander of Chicago travels in whatever gets him there."

  "I earned this job the hard way," Marina said. "I'm allowed to enjoy it occasionally."

  "I suppose so."

  After a couple of minutes, she grabbed the collective and pulled up. The helicopter leapt eagerly into the air, and a moment later, she was headed towards San Jose.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hanley crouched behind a stack of crushed cars. A man wearing a black T-shirt was patrolling the junkyard, and he had a revolver shoved into his pants.

  Hanley glanced back at his companions. Ipo, Katie, and Liam were also hiding from the guard. It was a ridiculous situation in a way. All of them were carrying enough weaponry to fight an army, and a single man with a revolver was pinning them down.

  Finally, the guard moved on.

  Ipo stood up and led the team deeper into the junkyard. Even though he was a very big guy, his footsteps were silent. Marina had drilled all of them relentlessly on silent movement as a crucial skill for a legionnaire. Hanley and Katie were doing pretty well, but Liam kept dragging his feet in the dirt.

  The music was getting louder. It had a thunderous drumbeat and a heavy overlay of distorted electric guitar. To Hanley, it sounded like kids messing with instruments they had never learned how to play.

  It was coming from a building with rusty, corrugated steel walls and a tarpaper roof. Big openings allowed Hanley to glimpse a packed crowd inside the building. The people were dressed for a party, and many carried clear plastic cups full of beer.

  Katie pointed. "Look."

  A black pickup truck was parked behind the building, and there were cages in the bed. The team padded over quietly.

  The cages contained Pit Bulls, one per cage. All the dogs had suffered some kind of disfiguring injury during its life, and a few wounds looked fresh. Two dead dogs were also lying in the bed of the truck, and they looked like they had been recently mauled. Hanley touched one of the bodies and discovered it was warm.