No Feign No Gain

by Carrie Ann Knox

  What just happened? Apparently we had achieved our goal, in spite of Sloan not playing along. They believed he was Dominic. And Vinny was here in the flesh. I took a breath for the first time in what felt like hours. Days.

  “And now I think you two have served your purpose,” Vinny continued, waving at the men guarding the door. “Let’s show these ladies out so we can finally have our chat, shall we?”

  The dimmest goon moved forward to grab both of our arms, gripping them tightly. Neither of us put up a fight as he led us back the way we came, stone-faced and silent.

  We did it. I was on my way out the door with Sloan, safe and sound. I was practically beaming as we entered the kitchen. The exit was only steps away. The end of the horrific adventure. The nightmare.

  But what did that mean for Lucas?

  “Say Quinn . . . ” Sloan’s voice interrupted my conflicted elation. “You remember that thing I showed you the other day? In the mini-mart?”

  “Quiet,” her goon barked.

  My mind raced as I held her gaze. Her eyes were trying to make me understand. Make me ready. As I watched her hand slide toward the man’s arm, getting into position, suddenly I knew.

  In a flash Sloan whirled, releasing the man’s grasp with ease to pull his arm over her shoulder. Before he could realize what had happened, she had him twisted backwards, his arm pinned awkwardly behind his back. His attempt to fight it only made the position more untenable and he groaned with the effort.

  Sloan read my wide-eyed expression and smiled. “Check his pocket. On the right.”

  Bewildered, I reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small black device.

  Sloan grabbed it and turned to the man. “I believe you were kind enough to show this to me on multiple occasions,” she said, appraising the object. “But I don’t think you ever truly appreciated what it can do.” She shoved the device into his back and squeezed the trigger. The goon’s body began to jerk and twitch uncontrollably, his face panicked. A moment later Sloan dropped the lifeless man to the floor with a thud.

  I stared at the man a moment, shock mixed with satisfaction. “I’m not gonna lie, that was pretty awesome.” I looked up at my friend. “But I don’t think that was necessary.”

  “Those men didn’t believe me.” She spoke quietly but her eyes shined with urgency. “So we have to find another way to change it around. We have to fix it.”

  “You don’t understand.” I moved closer and lowered my own voice. “They wanted Joel. We were giving them what they wanted.”

  “I know exactly what you were giving them. A dead man.” Her face was serious. “He was a goner the second you guys walked in here.”

  I froze and watched Sloan for signs of her normal jokiness. She was not playing.

  “I heard them,” Sloan continued, her voice low but rapid. “They didn’t always speak Italian around me, sometimes they forgot. And what was crystal clear in what I could pick up is that they want to ask him some questions, get the real story . . . before they make him disappear again. For good this time.”

  They’ll kill Lucas.

  “No,” I said, stubbornly shaking my head. “Obviously he doesn’t think so. Or he wouldn’t have gone in.”

  I realized the naivete of the words the moment they left my mouth.

  She stepped closer. “You don’t know him like I do. He knew full well how this would go. Me—us—walking out of here is all he cared about.”

  I knew deep down she was right.

  “Then let’s go get help,” I pleaded. “Everyone’s all waiting out there, a whole bunch of agents. I don’t know what in the world they’re waiting for.”

  “They’re waiting for us to walk out. Don’t you see? They’re here to round everybody up when it’s all over.” She shook her head sadly. “And they come raiding in here, he’s the first to go. Those mobsters’ll get rid of him so he can’t talk. You know I’m right.”

  I gulped. “But . . . then why would those guys just let us walk out of here?”

  “Maybe they wouldn’t.” She let the words hang a moment as she met my eyes. “We don’t know for sure he was actually leading us out the back door. We know too much.” She gave a quick smile. “Luckily they underestimated us. As usual.”

  Despite her sudden levity, the seriousness of our situation finally hit me. I was so naive. This was not some little manipulation game as I had originally thought. It was real. And there was no secret plan to save the day.

  I steeled my resolve with the realization. “Listen Sloan, my job’s done. I came here to get you out. The door’s right here. Let’s just go and let the professionals handle it.” My eyes pleaded urgently. “Please.”

  Sloan ignored me as she opened a door in the corner and peered inside. Then she turned back and gave me her full attention. “I hear you, I really do. But the problem is I am a professional. So are you. And pros never leave a man behind. I can’t trust his life to anyone else.”

  She pulled the door wider, allowing me to see the dark staircase beyond, leading down. “Time to choose your door, Quinn. In or out. Either way, we’ve gotta go.”

  ***

  I chose both. Sort of.

  Out of breath and nearly out of my mind, I convinced Sloan we could proceed her way—but only with help. After slipping out the back door to retrieve the stashed cell phone, I helped Sloan drag the unconscious goon into the walk-in cooler, locked him in with a broom, and retreated into the basement, following blindly.

  “Hopefully he’ll be wise enough to keep them talking,” Sloan said. She flipped a lightswitch, dimly illuminating a storage cellar. “Buying us time.”

  “Time for what? What are we doing?” I took in the room. It was a half-finished space, with shelf after shelf of restaurant supply reaching to the ceiling. “And what are we doing here?”

  Sloan reached to the closest shelf. “If I understood correctly,” she said, her hand sliding over giant cans of tomato sauce, “we are here for . . . this.” Her face lit up as her hand emerged from between the cans with a large pistol. She held it up proudly.

  My stomach began to boil with frustration. “This is your big plan? Guns?”

  “Reinforcements,” she said with a shrug. “I heard they’re stashed everywhere down here. Now we can talk our way out.” She wiggled the gun in the air. “With a little help.”

  I sighed. “Not gonna work for me. How about we get some real help?” I raised the cell phone, grateful to have one back in my possession. But I immediately paused. Who to call?

  “Fine, we’ll play it your way.” Sloan grabbed the phone from my hand and stabbed at Lucas’ name on her contacts list. “For now. But I wouldn’t hold my breath that whoever’s out there will have a better idea.”

  Someone picked up immediately. “Listen, they’ve got our guy,” Sloan said into the phone. “But we’re hiding out in the basement with a boatload of weapons, nice and safe for now. I’m sure you all were told to hang back . . . but whatever your extraction plan for him was—now’s the time.”

  Sloan’s face hardened as she listened. She opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it. Finally she sighed. “Ok,” she said through gritted teeth before hanging up.

  “Well?” I practically shouted, my nerves on overdrive. “What do we do?”

  “They said to sit tight. They’ll be making their way in.”

  I practically squealed with delight. Almost out of here. And the grownups were in charge again. It would be any minute now.

  Sloan tucked the gun in the back of her jeans and began moving toward the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” I shrieked, following at her heels. “They said to stay put.”

  “I’ll stay back, but I can’t not help.” She took the first couple steps up but then froze, staring up at the door. A second later she twirled and flew past, grabbing to pull me with
her as she fled past the aisles of dry goods and into a small dark room at the back.

  She met my wide eyes as we slipped behind the heavy open door. “They’re coming.” She peeked out through the crack. “Someone’s coming down.”

  The first clomp of footsteps on the stairs echoed through the slightly damp space. Then they multiplied, picking up pace. More and more. They just kept coming.

  I shivered with fear as we both huddled behind the door, trying to hide. We had been at the exit, free and clear. Now we’re stuck in a basement with the mob.

  And I had been too stubborn to grab a gun.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The room quickly filled with dark suits. I suppressed a gasp when I got a glance of Lucas amongst the crowd. The left side of his face was distorted, the skin around his eye beginning to swell. They hurt him. My stomach churned with rage and I had to look away.

  Suddenly a loud boom shook the building, then another. I peeked through the crack of the door to watch as the men instinctively grabbed for their weapons. Handguns of every variety appeared, gripped by men on heightened alert. They stared suspiciously at the ceiling, guns ablaze.

  All except Vinny. He held court in the middle, unarmed and protected by his men at all sides. His eyes narrowed as he gazed up, anger simmering.

  Footsteps began to pound on the floor above. They proceeded methodically, with slamming doors followed by feet racing through, clearing the restaurant room by room. Muffled shouts neared. They would soon be at the basement door.

  Sloan’s eyes were wide as she looked at me. “Everyone thought we were safe down here, away from everything,” she whispered. “Now we’re trapped in the middle.”

  Maybe we should’ve just left when we had the chance then, huh?

  But now was not the time for regrets. She was right. We would be caught in the crossfire. And we needed to find a plan.

  Unfortunately, the plan found us.

  “In the back, boss,” someone shouted. “Let’s get moving. You, too. Time to go.”

  The rest of the men took up defensive postures, focused on the stairs, as both Vinny and Lucas were shoved toward our hiding spot. The men stumbled through the doorway into the dark. Vinny immediately reached at the wall, searching for a switch.

  My eyes met Sloan’s only for a second. That’s all it took. We both threw ourselves against the door, slamming it shut in the face of the hefty armed mobster at their heels. I twisted the lock on the handle and was surprised to find a deadbolt just above. I secured it with a satisfying clunk.

  The man on the other side yanked at the handle and cursed when he realized he was locked out. The door shook as he slammed his shoulder into it. It wouldn’t budge. The heavy metal door would hold them off for a bit. Panicked voices immediately began to yell at each other on the other side.

  Vinny’s hand found the lightswitch. The room illuminated and he was faced with Sloan, feet away, pointing the gun at his chest with a smirk. He took her in and glanced to me in surprise.

  “Good to see you again there, Vinny,” I said.

  Vinny’s hands shot into the air. “Easy now,” he said, holding his arms steady. He took a slow step back. “No need to do anything impulsive, darlin’.”

  “Name’s not darlin’, I can assure you,” Sloan replied with an icy smile. “But yours might be soon. I expect there’s a market for all types where you’re going.”

  A soft chuckle sounded to our left. We finally took notice of Lucas in the corner, just watching. His arms were pulled unnaturally behind his back. “Cute,” he said with a hint of a smile. He twitched his shoulder. “But perhaps you could give me a hand?”

  Sloan kept the weapon trained on our new captive while I inspected the situation. His hands were tied with some sort of thick twine. The wrappings went far up his forearms, over and over. A hasty but effective binding.

  I glanced around the space in search of something sharp. Nothing but bare shelves at the far end. An otherwise empty room.

  I tried tugging at the twisted strands at his wrists. For the first time, I felt no spark when my hands touched his skin. I was too focused on freeing him. But with no tools, I had no way to do it. “Sorry,” I said, giving up. “You’ll just have to wait. But we’ve got this.”

  “Yes. We. Do.” Sloan continued staring down Vinny. I got the feeling she was willing him to make a move. To give her an excuse to fire the weapon. He kept his arms in the air, barely moving to breathe. His eyes bore into her right back.

  I heard another burst of activity outside the door and pulled out the phone. We needed to let someone know where we were. I dialed Lucas’s number, copying Sloan’s move. An unfamiliar voice answered curtly.

  “Everyone’s in the basement,” I said, trying to speak calmly despite our circumstances. “We have Vinny and Lucas, safe in this back room with us, alone. For now.”

  “Standby.” There was a long pause. “Ok, block off the air under the door all you can. Tight. Best we can do. We’ll be down momentarily.”

  I hung up and scanned the room, anxiety immediately escalating to borderline frantic as I took in the space. “They said to block under the door? I don’t know what that means.”

  “Tear gas.” Lucas moved toward the door, studying it. “Now that we’re out of the way, they can roll in. But we need to keep the gas out.” He turned his focus on our captive and eyed the man’s wardrobe. “We could use a little help there, buddy. Mind if we borrow your nice outfit?”

  Vinny narrowed his eyes at him and looked to the weapon-holder in charge, questioning.

  Sloan shrugged. “We can use your clothes as a doorstop . . . or you. Makes no difference to me.” She lifted the weapon a little higher. “But we won’t ask twice.”

  Vinny eyed the crack under the door, pondering. Then he yanked at his jacket, stripping it off to throw it to the floor with a sigh, and began hastily unbuttoning his shirt. He added his dingy white undershirt to the pile and paused with his hands on his belt buckle.

  I stepped closer, hands on hips. “We don’t have all day.”

  He groaned and finished disrobing with minimal objection. How do I always end up watching unattractive middle-aged men take their clothes off?

  We all watched with one eye on the door as it jumped and shook, the men outside trying their turn at getting it open. Vinny spread his arms when he was down to his sweat-stained white boxers. Sloan waved him back with the gun. He took a step back and I gathered the garments, tucking them tightly under the bottom edge of the door. It seemed a decent barrier for now.

  Sloan threw a faint smile at me as I returned to standing. “Guess there’s nothing to do now but wait.” She turned her gaze back to Vinny. “Enjoy your last few minutes of freedom.”

  He scoffed in response, putting on a show of indifference. But you could see the panic boiling underneath. He was trying to think of a way out. He knew what was next.

  Finally he spoke. “You know that might not hold all the chemicals, darlin’. It could get pretty messy. So why don’t we all just get ourselves to safety, and then we can handle the police business. You want, I’ll even turn myself in. Just get us out of here for now, would you?”

  “Sure,” I said, sarcastic. “Why not. And how do you propose we do that?”

  Vinny returned a cocky half-grin. “Why do you think they sent us in here? To trap themselves in a shootout with the feds? Go down in a blaze of glory for their beloved boss?” He chuckled harshly. “Trust me, they ain’t that loyal.”

  I glanced at Sloan. She was just as unsure.

  “What does that mean, exactly?” I said.

  “It means there’s a way out, kiddo. Our own personal path to salvation.” Hands still in the air, he used his head to nod at the back. “Just behind that cabinet.”

  We all turned toward the back wall. A tall shelving unit took up the middle. Lucas moved closer to in
spect. With no hands available, he kicked and pushed at the bottom with his foot. It moved forward a crack.

  “Impossible,” he murmured to himself. He turned to face Vinny, brow furrowed. “What is it, a tunnel?”

  Vinny grinned. “Our business has expanded since you’ve been away, Dommy boy. Why don’t you let me show you our newest innovation?”

  The fake Dominic ignored the comment and turned his focus back to the wall. I moved to give him a hand. I slipped my hand around the edge of the unit and pulled, my fingers stinging with the effort. The shelves scraped the floor to slide forward a few inches, revealing endless darkness beyond.

  “See, man of my word,” Vinny continued. “That tunnel’s worked out pretty well. Helps avoid all the prying eyes. So I could reward you all pretty nice for getting us out of here, keeping us safe. Just name your price.”

  I pondered the blackness beyond before looking back at Lucas. “What do you think? Should we take it?”

  Vinny’s lips pursed with satisfaction. “Wise girl.” He tried to take a step toward us but Sloan flicked the gun in warning.

  I scoffed. “Not the money, fool. The tunnel.” Emboldened, I turned to Lucas again. “Stay or leave?” My mouth quirked in an unexpected smile as my words struck me. “Hey, it’s another song title. Not sure Dave’s content applies here either, though.”

  His eyes narrowed at me curiously, confused by my inappropriately-timed attempt at an inside joke. I’m such a moron. Clearly he had better things to worry about. I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

  He shook off the comment and focused on the opening again. “It’s tempting. But too risky. We don’t know what kind of trick he has waiting down there. Should probably just wait it out.” He nodded to Sloan with the gun still steady on our captive. “I think we have it under control.”

  A sudden increase in the clamor outside the door returned our attention to the situation beyond. The yelling and door-pounding was intensifying. Thin streams of smoke were beginning to seep in around the fabric. It was really happening. My heart rate increased further as I stared at the suit stuffed in the crack. What if it’s not enough? We wouldn’t be able to keep control of the room if we were hit with the gas, too.