The Warriors Series Boxset I

by Ty Patterson

  Broker briefed them, but there wasn’t much more to Shattner. He was what it said on the tin. One of life’s losers who got caught in a gang’s grip. His children were now paying the price for that.

  ‘You mentioned a journal. What’s in it?’ Pizaka asked them.

  Broker faced him squarely, the two of them filling his vision. ‘Now that. There isn’t a journal. I mentioned that to get a rise out of you guys… to see your reaction.’

  They looked at one another a long time, silent but for the traffic and the police working to keep the crowd and the television vans at bay. Roger and Pizaka digested what that meant, and their faces tightened, but they didn’t say anything else. The attempted hit went down just hours after mentioning the journal to the cops.

  Pizaka jerked his head back at the second Tahoe. ‘You’re aware you’ve put that family in danger by mentioning a nonexistent journal?’

  ‘Yes,’ Broker replied shortly. He didn’t need reminding about it.

  They had a long discussion about this before going to the Rocka home and had all felt that this was yet another way of piling pressure on the gang. So long as Elaine Rocka and the children stayed with them till the heat died down.

  They had looked doubtfully at one another when that animal raised its head. Knowing Elaine Rocka, they had decided it was best to be upfront with her and see whether she would be willing. Chloe had told her everything about themselves – their investigation, their course of action, their preference and the rationale behind it. To her utter surprise, Elaine Rocka had agreed to go along with their proposal.

  Seeing Chloe’s bemused expression, she said fiercely, ‘I want to make him a hero in their eyes. No child should think less of their dad. Not one. If this can help…’ She walked out of the room without another word.

  Maybe we’ve misjudged the battle-axe, thought Chloe as she looked at her departing form.

  ‘Ms. Rocka? She’s aware of the danger?’ Chang dug out a toothpick from his rear pocket, tore the paper wrapper, and started chewing away, his eyes as hooded as ever.

  ‘Yeah. And before we start, we know you won’t be able to spare bodies for their protection. We’ll take care of it.’

  ‘Well,’ drawled Pizaka, ‘we never said that. Of course we can spare a warm body or two. We have many trained in close protection, and most of the time they’re just going to fancy dos. This’ll be real work for them.’ The NYPD close protection division had the best trained close protection agents in the business, who were assigned to visiting heads of state and politicians of a certain rank. The division’s reputation had ensured it had a growing ‘private sector’ business, VIPs and celebrities, that earned it a good revenue for far lesser risk involved.

  Broker laughed and declined the offer with a polite shake of his head. No way are they going to place a CPO, Close Protection Officer, with us. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve done this before. They’ll be safe with us.’

  Pizaka looked at the controlled chaos around him; several cops were taking witness statements, a few others were clearing the asphalt of shards, making the street ready for the usual onslaught of traffic. The legwork would begin now, going through the witness statements, seeing if any cameras had captured the bike, following various stolen bike reports, chasing down ‘bike found’ leads. They needed a lucky break, but he wasn’t confident this time they would have much luck.

  Broker read their body language. ‘Perhaps you should focus closer to home.’ Meaning the possibility of a mole in the NYPD.

  Chloe asked quietly once they were on the way again, ‘Pizaka and Chang, how’re they?’

  Broker met her eyes in the mirror, knew what she was asking. ‘Not them. I’ve heard of them and have looked at them myself, in the past, for another assignment. It would be too obvious in any case.’ In Broker-speak, look meant extensive background checks. ‘The gang has either a dirty cop or has hacked into their system. No other way could they have mounted an attack so quickly. Once they knew we were all at One PP, it would have been easy to have a hit team follow us.’

  ‘That wasn’t a very professional hit team.’ Chloe chuckled.

  ‘I think what happened was they knew we were with the cops, didn’t have a hit team ready, got someone to tail us, and that someone, a low-level guy desperate to earn his stripes, took a shot,’ Bear rumbled from the front, keeping his voice low.

  ‘Been thinking about it,’ he said defensively when they all turned to look at him. His reasoning made sense, and they didn’t have any other ideas, so they went with it.

  ‘All the more reason to keep away from the cops and FBI,’ Bwana muttered, echoing their thinking.

  They had taped the window together as best as they could, but wanting clear vision, had left the hole in either window open. Lisa and Rocka, wrapped in a thick blanket, had fallen asleep finally, the adrenaline and the hush of tires lulling them.

  Broker looked in the mirror at them and met Chloe’s eyes. Their mission had expanded now; it included keeping the family safe and finding out what happened to Shattner.

  ‘Tony?’ he murmured in his collar mic. Tony and Eric were still behind and had remained in the background throughout the attack and the subsequent questioning by the police. Broker had kept his mic open, and they’d heard everything go down.

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘Where’s the apartment?’

  ‘Five bedrooms, five baths, a rooftop swimming pool, uniformed concierge, the works… Bit embarrassing to call it an apartment, but that’s what they call it. You’ll love this place. Any guesses where it is?’

  Broker blinked at Tony’s cheerfulness. ‘Tony, I’ve been shot at, interrogated, sworn at, and have been Elaine Rocka-ed. Let’s keep this simple. Why don’t you tell me where the danged place is?’

  Tony laughed. ‘It’s smack dab in the middle of Marine Park, which is as good as cop town, lot of cops and firemen live there. The gang tries anything there, they’re likely to get a warm reception.’

  Broker smiled slowly. That’s why he’s my number two. Tony had been working the phone ever since they left One PP, hunting accommodation for all of them, and this ticked all the boxes. Marine Park was in southeast Brooklyn, bounded by Flatlands Avenue and Gerritsen Avenue, next to the borough’s largest park. Its lack of subway access and small community ensured that newcomers would be quickly spotted.

  Chloe settled Lisa’s head on her lap and stroked her hair as the girl shifted restlessly in her sleep. ‘You guys will retrieve her backpack tomorrow?’

  ‘Bwana and Roger will. We’ll stay back and go through some ground rules with–’

  ‘Boss,’ Tony broke in urgently, ‘another bike coming up on your seven.’

  ‘Got him. On his tail. Close. Real close.’ Bwana’s voice came through their earpiece; he could’ve been reading the weather for all the excitement in his voice.

  Bear glanced back at Chloe and saw that she was wedged by the sleeping forms. Coming to a decision swiftly, he reached below the seat and pulled out a Mossberg shotgun. ‘Let them sleep. We’ll go on the attack.’

  He swung his door open, stuck his left hand out on the railing above, and uncoiled out of the Tahoe smoothly, the Mossberg a toy in his right hand. A deadly toy.

  He spotted the bike behind them, making its way straight between the flowing lanes of traffic on either side, the rider, clad in black leather, his dark helmet gleaming in the shadowy light, looking straight ahead.

  If the rider was aware of the Tahoe looming large and close behind him, he gave no indication. If he saw Roger standing on the rails, his shooting arm as steady as if he was stationary, his Glock tracking the rider, he didn’t show it. The black bore of Bear’s Mossberg followed him, and he didn’t twitch.

  Broker slowed fractionally, and the bike came on, cutting through the traffic, gliding through it, man and machine one, the Yamaha’s purr putting tarmac behind it effortlessly. It came on their tail and slowly crept up on them, and the universe melted away for Bear and Ro
ger, their breathing steady, their heartbeats low, their fingers ready to pull and send damage.

  The visor turned slowly toward Broker, the purr of the engine blending with the throatier growl of the Tahoe, light glancing off the visor and disappearing, just blackness looking at Broker.

  The Watcher looked. Saw Broker, stubble winking in the light; saw Bear and the Mossberg, a volcano ready to explode. Through the dimness, he could just make out Chloe, her eyes large, her hand aiming her Glock, a shape across her thighs. Through the corner of his eyes he saw Roger behind him, on his five, knew there was at least another gun on him. The Watcher didn’t twitch, didn’t flinch, didn’t react. This was him slowing time, seeing all that he wanted to see.

  The visor swiveled back smoothly straight ahead, the purr became louder, and the rider became a speck and then became night.

  Bear and Roger followed it till it disappeared and then slipped inside the Tahoes, and they sped up. There wasn’t any other traffic at that time of night, and if any of the passing traffic witnessed the byplay, they didn’t stop. Bwana presently broke the silence. ‘Is it him? Our stalker?’

  ‘Could be. Then it could also be just a curious rider.’ There was doubt in Broker’s voice, though. No rider would be so relaxed with weapons pointing at him. He shrugged, putting it behind them. The stalker, if that’s who it was, would have to take a stake in the game if he wanted to play. Till then he was irrelevant.

  The others were still sleeping when Roger and Bwana left early the next day to retrieve Lisa’s bag. Roger headed to the driver’s side of their Tahoe when he paused. ‘Think we should switch vehicles?’ We can carjack one and return it before the owner realizes it.’

  Bwana looked at him strangely. ‘Now why would we want to do that, partner? Why make it difficult for trouble to find us?’

  That settled it for Roger, though he still took a long, circuitous route to the Rocka residence. ‘No need to be stupid,’ he said aloud and looked at Bwana for a reaction and got a gentle snore in return.

  He didn’t spot any tails, not that he expected to, and when he neared the home, he shook Bwana awake. They parked their wheels a block away and flagged down a cab and drove past the residence and then reversed and drove by slowly again. Roger noticed the driver eyeing them curiously through the mirror, looked up his name on the permit, and said, ‘Relax, Miguel, we’re undercover cops.’ He flashed the badge Broker had issued them, and Miguel nodded once and forgot all about them, his suspicions allayed.

  When Miguel reached the end of the street, Roger motioned him to a halt and, thrusting a sheaf of bills at Miguel, asked him to take a break for an hour. They drove the cab, the most anonymous car in the city, back, parked it four hundred yards away, and settled down to watch.

  Three hours later they were still the only people showing an interest in the home. He looked at Bwana, who nodded.

  They walked casually to the house, taking cover from the parked vehicles on the street, and split up, Bwana heading to the rear and Roger to the window in the front. Roger picked up a rock from a flower bed and, when he heard Bwana’s soft grunt in his ear, swung it against the window, shattering it. He heard the rear window give way with a louder crash, ran round to the rear, and followed Bwana through the wreckage. Covering each other, they went through the house swiftly, relaxing only when the last room was ‘clean.’

  Bwana holstered his gun. ‘Too late.’

  ‘House was wrecked. Someone had been there before and tossed it. Totally.’ Bwana glanced at Elaine Rocka and looked away when her face hardened, her fingers whitened. He poured hot water in a couple of cups, inserted tea bags and, when they were the right shade of brown, handed one to Roger. He looked at her again, a glance that was part apology, part embarrassment. They should have realized the gang wouldn’t have waited till the morning.

  ‘Ma’am, we’ve wrapped police tape all around the house. It’s a good neighborhood, so it will be respected and the gang – we’re pretty sure it was them hunting the journal – have no reason to go back there now,’ Roger told her gently.

  She nodded, cleared her throat and forced a smile. ‘It needed a makeover anyway, what with the dogs around. The insurance will cover it.’ The battle-axe returned, and steely eyes looked at Chloe. ‘You’ll get them?’

  Chloe nodded once. That had always been the plan.

  Before they could say anything further, Lisa and Shawn burst into the room and climbed on Rocka’s lap. She held them close, her eyes asking them not to mention the house. Chloe nodded fractionally and asked the kids, ‘Right, guys, I bet you’re hungry. What do you have when you’re hungry?’

  She jammed fingers in her ears at the loud yells in reply and grinned. ‘I can’t hear you. Now you’ll have to get your own cereal.’

  ‘Will you go to the locker today?’ Shawn put an end to their gaiety.

  ‘We’ll hunt for it, yeah,’ Broker replied, choosing his words carefully. The locker was lost to them now, the key either in the debris of the house or with the gang.

  Shawn frowned, puzzled at Broker’s choice of words. ‘What’s there to search for when you have the key.’

  ‘They don’t have it, honey. They went to get Lisa’s backpack but couldn’t find it. They’ll go back and search again.’ Rocka combed his hair with her fingers, her touch calming him.

  ‘It’s with me.’ Green eyes looked at them from beneath tousled blonde curls, as if to say why wouldn’t it be? Lisa giggled when she saw most of them had their mouths open.

  Bear was the first to recover. ‘Your backpack…’

  ‘Is with me,’ she replied firmly, and then her face became indignant. ‘You didn’t think I would leave Dino behind, did you?’

  ‘Dino?’ Broker asked for all of them.

  Lisa sighed long and theatrically. Adults. They didn’t come with enough training.

  ‘Keys,’ she held her hand out and demanded.

  Broker looked at her blank faced, and when Lisa thrust her hand out again, he gave her the Tahoe’s keys.

  She reappeared minutes later with a pink backpack festooned with ribbons and badges. Reaching inside it, she drew out a tattered green dinosaur and placed it in the center.

  ‘Dino.’ She pointed. ‘Backpack.’ She pointed at it.

  Broker closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts and his wits. He started, ‘When did you–’ and stopped when she held a palm up. Adults couldn’t be trusted to ask the right questions.

  ‘I was carrying it when we left home. Guess none of you noticed.’ She smiled smugly. ‘Now, Broker, can you find my dad’s key?’ she challenged him.

  Broker would willingly face off with entire gangs, but kids were beyond him, and he wisely kept quiet. He reached out and emptied the bag, glancing curiously at a pink diary with a tiny padlock, a key dangling next to it. Lisa snatched it out of his hand, saying it was her private journal. He felt the insides of the bag, then the outside, turned the straps inside out, checked the folds, and came up with nothing. He started again, slowly this time, and still found nothing. He noticed Lisa and Shawn grinning, and it clicked.

  ‘A key and a lock go together, don’t they?’ he asked casually, and Lisa smiled cheekily at him. ‘Took you a long time, Broker.’

  He examined the key. It looked like the key to the padlock at first glance, but closer inspection showed that it didn’t match. ‘Your dad did this? I thought he taped it inside your backpack.’

  Lisa shook her head. ‘He did, but then I removed it and hung it from the lock. It looked more natural there,’ she said proudly.

  Chloe beamed at her. ‘That was very smart, honey. Not many kids would have thought of that. Did your dad say anything when he gave you the key?’

  She scrunched her face, trying to remember, and then the blonde curls bounced. ‘He said I should give it to Zebra only. He would know what to do.’

  They looked nonplussed for a moment, and then Shawn rolled his eyes. ‘Zeb. Zebra is that striped animal.’

&nb
sp; Lisa was on a roll and let that pass airily. ‘Whatever. And I know.’ She stuck her tongue out at him.

  ‘Dad didn’t say anything else?’ Shawn took the key and inspected it and handed it over to Chloe. It wasn’t anything special, like a billion keys out there, its sole purpose to go in a lock and uncover its secrets – but that was possible only if they knew which lock it fit.

  The other men inspected it, but all of them came up blank. Broker went to his bag of goodies, his backpack, and taking a magnifying glass, examined the key, shaking his head in frustration finally when it stubbornly remained anonymous.

  He leaned back and half-closed his eyes, thinking. Zeb would know what to do. Why would he? When he opened his eyes, Bwana and Bear had rolled out a map of the city and were marking the gang’s businesses they had hit. Of course.

  He leaned over them and marking Brownsville Autos with a cross, drew a large circle around it. Broker fired up his iPad and read out addresses within the circle.

  Storage lockers, half an hour’s commute from the garage.

  Far enough to have enough distance from the garage, close enough that his absence wouldn’t be missed. He probably went during his lunch hour.

  Zeb used to have storage lockers all across the city, where he stowed several emergency stashes of cash, fake passports, identities, clothing, and weapons. Everything that a sudden exit needed.

  They studied the twenty addresses, and after some more research, Broker drew a red line through five of them. ‘Not big enough. He would want someplace that was large enough for him to feel anonymous.’