“Which way… should we… run… right or left?” Debra said, as she spoke between gulps of air.
James looked in both directions and saw nothing but flat ground. If they went either way, they would be visible and make for easy targets. Then, he looked across the stream and saw a forest of trees in brilliant fall colors.
“We need to get across this water and into those trees.”
“Is it deep?”
“Maybe, but it’s our best—” James stopped talking as the rustle of the cornstalks reached his ears. When he looked back at the field, he saw movement in several areas. It was all close and headed right at them.
Debra made a whimpering sound in her throat as James stepped in front of her and brought his gun up to fire.
50
In A Flash
CAMAS, WASHINGTON, JANUARY 2003
The boys were back with Hutchins at his small house. Bev was absent, as she was out doing the shopping, but she’d left behind a stack of sandwiches and coffee for the boys. Hutchins was impressed with Cody and Romeo and told them so. Whether or not they made it inside the Citadel, he was willing to refer major contracts to them in the future.
“You guys might be young but you sure as shit have what it takes.”
Hutchins had been busy as well. He had set-up a meeting for them.
“You say these guys are outlaw bikers?” Cody asked.
“Yeah, and they do contracts now and then. I brought them up here to deal with a guy who had another biker club protecting him. They got the job done.”
“You brought them up here, up here from where? Are they out of California?” Romeo said.
“Nope, they’re from New Orleans. I wanted to use a group that had no ties on the west coast. There’s eight of them all together.”
“Where is the meeting taking place?”
“I set it up in the park for midnight. That should give you some privacy. You’ll be meeting them in a cleared area behind the children’s playground. The guys names are Flash and Gator. Flash is the club’s leader, and his price was high.”
“How high?” Cody asked.
“Twenty-thousand, all up front.”
“That’s a lot,” Romeo said. “This guy Flash does understand that we only want two guys to attack the Citadel and not his whole group?”
“Yeah, and he said that he and Gator would do it. They’re about the same height and size as you two, so they should be able to pull it off. That price covers the cost of supplies. They’ll be attacking the Citadel with the same resources you had.”
“We’ll pay it,” Cody said. “After all, they’ll be taking a huge risk, since the Citadel must be on alert.”
Hutchins smiled. “All right then, I’ll let Flash know that the meeting is on. Also, boys, I get a thousand-dollar fee for setting things up.”
Cody removed an envelope from the side pocket of his jacket and passed it over to Hutchins. It was bulging with cash.
“That will cover your fee and then some.”
Hutchins took the envelope, then held it up. “Why so much?”
“For helping us, dude,” Romeo said. “We wouldn’t be anywhere near as close as we are to taking down the Citadel without you.”
Hutchins cleared his throat and tucked the envelope along the inside of his wheelchair.
“Thank you. You boys got class. Bev will be happy to have some extra money around here.”
“You’re welcome, and we expect to do more business with you in the future,” Cody said.
* * *
Cody and Romeo arrived for their midnight meeting in the park at nine o’clock and waited for the bikers to show. They had expected to hear the roar of engines as the bikers neared. Those sounds never came, but around eleven p.m. two forms moved stealthily toward them.
Cody whispered a greeting when they came nearer.
“Are you here for a meeting?”
The two figures froze, then swiveled their heads. Cody and Romeo stepped into view with their hands in plain sight, showing that they held no weapons. The other two men relaxed and walked toward them. The older of the pair, Flash, was about their age and in his early twenties. The younger one, Gator, was only eighteen but looked tough and had a muscular build. Not surprisingly, he wore alligator boots.
“So much for our midnight meeting,” Flash said in a resonant voice with a Cajun accent. “How early did you guys get here?”
“You understand what we want you to do?” Cody asked.
Flash smiled. It was a good smile full of straight white teeth.
“I see you’re the let’s get down to business type. All right then, Hutchins said you’d bring the money, we’ll take it right now.”
Cody handed over a packet of cash as he said, “You haven’t answered my question.”
“You want us to attack the Citadel so that they think we’re you. Don’t worry, mon ami, we will give them hell in your name.”
“When you trade shots with them you’ll be outnumbered, so just hit and git,” Romeo said.
Gator spoke up and revealed a deep voice. “We’re not big-time assassins like you two, but we know how to do some killing. There will be less guards at the Citadel after we leave; you can count on that.”
There was movement among the bushes to their left. All four of them turned to see who was approaching while going for their guns.
Flash and Cody had their weapons clear of their holsters before Romeo and Gator had even touched their guns. Each man registered the other’s incredible reflexes, then returned their eyes to the figure emerging through the hedge.
It was a dog, a beagle, and then there came the sound of a female voice as the hound’s owner called to him.
“Arnold? Arnold, get back here and stop playing games.”
The dog looked over at the armed men, sniffed the air for a moment, then turned and went back to his owner. The woman could be heard leaving the area once her feet left the grass to walk upon the paved path.
Gator pointed at Cody and whispered, “Flash, this guy is almost as fast as you are.”
“I noticed that,” Flash said.
“He’s faster, dude,” Romeo said. “Xavier had his gun out first.”
“Bullshit,” Gator said.
Cody returned his gun to the holster on his belt, and the others followed suit.
“It doesn’t matter who’s faster. All I want to know is when you’ll be ready to attack the Citadel.”
“You tell us when and we’ll do it,” Flash said.
“Okay, we’ll have Hutchins call you. Once he does, you can make your move.”
“I guess we’re done here,” Flash said.
“Yes.”
Flash smiled at Cody. “Have you ever dueled?”
“Pistols at thirty paces, that kind of duel?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Gator was right, you’re nearly as fast as me, maybe even faster. It would be damn interesting to find out for sure.”
Cody cocked his head as he readied himself to draw his weapon.
“Are you serious?”
Flash laughed. “No, just curious. And if we ever wind up on opposites sides we’ll find out who’s faster.”
“That would be me,” Cody said, and watched as the humor left Flash’s expression.
“Don’t be so sure, mon ami,” Flash said. Afterward, he turned, and Gator followed him out of the park.
51
Poetic Justice
NEW JERSEY, OCTOBER 2018
“They’re just kids!” Sara shouted, as she caught her first sight of the baby bangers. They had been inside the house, found the wounded Trigger, and left through the rear door to head into the cornstalks, which they saw were quivering from movement.
Tanner, who was about to unload rounds from a shotgun, released the weapon and drew a small gun from his pocket. The gun was similar to the one he had given James and was a .25 semi-auto. The young bangers had all turned around at the sound of Sara’s voi
ce. As they raised their guns toward her, Tanner shot each boy in the outer portion of their right shoulder region. Two of them dropped their weapons, but the third kid, a baby-face boy who was muscular, weathered the wound well and spun to fire at Tanner. He never got the chance; Sara shot him in the knee and took him down.
“James! It’s Tanner and Sara.”
“We’re over here, Tanner, by the water,” James called.
“Are you or your mother wounded?”
“We’re good, just freaked out.”
“Stay there; we’ll come to you.”
Tanner gathered the guns of the gang members as Sara tended to the boy she had shot in the knee. He was bleeding badly. Sara had torn off the bottom of the boy’s shirt to use as a tourniquet, which she tied around his thigh. The kid cursed a blue streak and kept telling her that he would kill her.
Boy or not, Tanner had heard enough. After reclaiming the shotgun he’d dropped, he slammed the stock against the boy’s forehead. It knocked the kid out cold.
“That’s one way to anesthetize someone,” Sara said. When she looked for the other two wounded boys, she saw that they were gone.
“They headed back toward the house, what’s left of the house,” Tanner said. “But they won’t get far. I took the car keys from the wounded man in the kitchen.”
Sara and Tanner continued through the stalks and found James holding his mother. Debra was crying as a result of the stress she was feeling. Sara walked over and held her hand.
“We’ll take you both somewhere safe.”
“But they’ll just keep coming, won’t they?” Debra said.
“No,” Tanner said. “They won’t.”
* * *
James and his mother wondered at the grand view of Manhattan from the balcony of Tanner and Sara’s penthouse. It was night, and the lights of the city looked fantastic in the clear fall air.
They had left the scene together with James following Tanner’s car without waiting around for the police. The gangbangers would keep their mouths shut and the local police would no doubt blame the carnage on a war between two gangs.
“Are you hungry?” Sara asked James and Debra. Debra declined food, but James was hungry having missed dinner. Sara told him that there was leftover lasagna in the refrigerator and that he could help himself to it. James thanked her and headed for the kitchen.
Debra looked over at Tanner. “You gave my son a gun?”
“Yes.”
“He’s just a boy.”
“No, he’s a man of nineteen who’s in college. If he had been a boy I might have still given it to him, because he’s level-headed.”
Debra sat up straighter as she was about to respond in anger, but then she seemed to deflate as she realized something.
“If James hadn’t had that gun we would both be dead.”
“That’s what he told me.”
“Does he still have it?” Sara asked.
“No,” Tanner said. “Now that it’s been used in a shooting I told James to give it back to me. If he asks for another one, I’ll give it to him, but he won’t need a weapon while he’s here.”
“This is so kind of you to let us stay with you, but we can’t hide here forever.”
“You won’t have to, I’ll see to that,” Tanner said.
“How?” Debra asked.
“You’re better off not knowing.”
“Who are you? Are you some sort of soldier?”
Sara laughed. She was seated beside Tanner on a loveseat.
“He’s not a soldier, but he has been to war a time or two, and he knows how to handle men like Maurice Biggs.”
Debra stared at the two of them with a confused look on her face.
“I don’t know what you are, but you’ve been a Godsend for James and me. Thank you for everything you’re doing.”
“You’re welcome,” Sara said.
Debra stood. “I’m going to sit with James… and maybe I’ll have some milk to calm my nerves.”
After Debra left, Tanner took out his phone.
“I’m calling Joe Pullo.”
“You want his help with Biggs?”
“I need information. Joe has connections that will be able to tell me who’s who in Biggs’s gang. I also want to know who told Biggs where James was hiding. I don’t want that same person tracing them here.”
“Maybe Biggs has a hacker like Zoe.”
“It’s more probable that James was ratted out by someone he knows.”
* * *
An hour earlier, back in New Jersey, Harrison had arrived home to find police and emergency vehicles blocking the driveway. When he explained to the young cop standing by the cars that he was the homeowner, the officer led him up the driveway on foot.
Night was coming. As dusk gave way to darkness, the gloom triggered the sensors on the home’s exterior lights.
“What the hell?” Harrison shouted as he got his first good look at the damage done to his home.
As his eyes took in the shredded remains of his house, a gurney was pushed by him. It was the kid with the shoulder wound whose knee Sara had shot. The boy looked at Harrison with eyes full of hate. Trigger had already been taken to a nearby hospital for the wound to his abdomen, which had required immediate surgery. The other two wounded kids were arrested when they walked into the local hospital while dripping blood. The lame story they told of being attacked by a mugger made the cop called to investigate laugh.
Harrison reached his house and walked around it before going in, when he neared the kitchen door and saw what appeared to be a small pond beside it, he wondered where all the water had come from.
His phone rang. After answering it, Harrison received more bad news. It was the man he had contacted to reach Maurice Biggs, so that he could sell-out his own family. His price had been ten-thousand-dollars, minus a ten-percent fee for the man on the phone.
“You’re not getting any money.”
“What?” Harrison said dully. He had just peeked through a window and seen that his living room furniture and television were in tatters from the rounds they had absorbed.
“The money, Biggs won’t pay. They say that Hakeem’s family got away and that the guys Biggs sent were all shot.”
“The tip was still good.”
“I agree, so go tell Maurice Biggs that. Maybe he’ll be reasonable and reconsider.”
“Shit.”
“And Harrison, that don’t change our deal. I still want my finder’s fee.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me. And don’t fuck around getting that money to me or I’ll send some guys out to collect it.”
“Who says they’ll find me?”
“You hide, and I’ll have them burn your house down.”
Harrison looked at what had become of his beloved home, and felt his eyes grow moist with tears.
“Burn my damn house to the ground; you’d be doing me a favor.”
52
Bodyguard, Shmodyguard
PORTLAND, OREGON, JANUARY 2003
Romeo called the number engraved on the Citadel’s metal invitation. He was disappointed when he was only able to leave a phone number and a short message.
“My name is Denny Haydon and I need help. Call me back at 555-1974.”
Romeo made his call using Haydon’s cell phone, while in Portland. The phone had been off until they used it. When activated, it was found to have a number of threatening messages from cartel members on it. There were also separate messages from women named Veronica, Barbara, Jenny, Karen, and Esmeralda. The ladies each asked Haydon why he hadn’t called or been by to see them. The man would be missed, for various reasons.
When the phone rang twenty-six minutes after Romeo had made his call, they wondered if it would be the Citadel calling or some cartel hood looking for answers. It was Abadandi. He sounded pleased to have received Romeo’s message.
“I’m calling from the Citadel, Mr. Haydon,” Abadandi said. “Before we go any furthe
r, would you please recite the four-digit number engraved on your invitation.”
Romeo did so, and Abadandi asked him if he were in imminent danger of being harmed or captured.
“It might be both if I don’t get off the streets soon. I made some powerful people living south of the border mad at me.”
“Ah, I see. In that case, you’ll want to get here as soon as possible. How far away are you?”
“I’m in Portland.”
“Excellent, you’re only a short distance away. Do you have a pen? I need to recite directions to you, along with instructions.”
“I’m ready. How do we get to you?”
“We?”
“Yeah, man. I got my bodyguard Max with me. He needs to get away too.”
“That is unusual. Most of our guests arrive alone, or with a significant other, but never a friend.”
“The dude saved my life and I trust him. He comes along.”
“That can be arranged but there will be an additional fee of two-hundred and fifty thousand. That price will double if your bodyguard wishes to have plastic surgery.”
“I’ll pay it, whatever, we just need to get somewhere safe as soon as we can.”
“Fantastic, and now I’ll give you the directions on how to reach us.”
* * *
Two hours later, Cody and Romeo were standing in a field that was three miles east of the cliff they had scaled on their first attempt to breach the Citadel. If things went the way they hoped they would, they would soon be escorted inside the Citadel by the same guards they previously battled.
The boys had been in the field for nearly an hour. From time to time they had detected movement around them, coming from the edge of the trees.
Romeo had decided to leave his hair blond rather than dying it black to match Denny Haydon’s. If asked about it, he would say that he dyed his hair blond as a way to look different than normal. He had also shaved off the beard.
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