by Warren Ray
Then the perfect opportunity arose.
“You know it’s a long way to Duluth and I need to relax,” said Fowler. “Why don’t you get over here and help me relax.”
Laney rolled her eyes knowing exactly what he wanted. “It wasn’t innocent, but it’s a perfect distraction,” she thought.
“What did you have in mind?” asked Laney.
“Oh, I think you know what I want. Hell, you’re both prostitutes, so I don’t think I need to spell it out.”
Collette squeezed Laney’s sweaty hand as she turned to Fowler and let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Get it out.”
“Now that’s more like it,” said Fowler as he unzipped his pants.
Laney was grateful it was dark in the cab and wouldn’t have to look at it. She’d seen too many over the past few months and wanted to forget them. She started to move down to the floor when he ordered her to just lean over to him.
“Honey, who’s the professional here? Let me get situated and I will rock your world.”
Fowler laughed. “Well, alright then.”
Laney let out a quiet scoff at his stupidity. Fighting to remain calm, she reached for her bag and pretended to be moving it out of the way while unzipping it.
She grabbed the cold polymer grip of the Glock, which instilled confidence even as her racing heart increased ten-fold. Coughing loudly hid the sound of the slide racking, which didn’t take much effort despite the sweaty hands.
Laney placed a hand on his bare thigh and said, “Okay, I think we’re all set, so spread your legs,”
“Come on already,” demanded Fowler.
Lifting the pistol Laney’s face grimaced knowing she had only one chance. There would be no hesitation and no regrets.
She shoved the pistol into his gut and squeezed the trigger. The report exploded in the enclosed cab. Collette jumped as Fowler hollered in pain. He wasn’t dead yet.
Laney squeezed the trigger again and yelled, “Die you son-of-a-bitch.”
Fowler stopped moving as blood began to spill down his stomach.
“Friggin bastard,” yelled Collette.
Laney moved back up on the bench seat shaking because of her super-hyped nerves. “Prostitutes my ass.”
“Oh, my ears are ringing,” yelled Collette.
“What? I can’t hear you.”
Collette nodded and pointed to her ears.
The closed windows kept the loud gunfire inside the cab, and it took a few minutes before they were able to understand each other.
“Damn, I so knew you were gonna go for your Glock.”
“Stupid idiot,” said Laney between hurried breaths trying to calm down while still fidgeting in her seat.
Collette handed her a bottle of water and Laney gulped the water spilling some down her shirt. She looked over at Fowler and nodded in satisfaction.
“So, now what?” asked Collette.
“We’re gonna take out the one behind us and go back for Cole.”
“How do you wanna do this?”
“Not sure, yet,” said Laney.
“We could slow down a little at a time and, like, let the one in front get ahead of us,” said Collette.
“Then stop and rush the one in back of us,” finished Laney.
“Ya. Whaddya think?”
“I like it.”
“Get my gun out,” said Collette.
Laney reached into Collette’s bag and pulled the Glock out. She also grabbed some granola bars for much needed reenergizing. The power bars Cole had given them the other night had done the trick, and she was confident they would now. She tore the wrapper off before handing it to Collette.
“Oh, this so good,” said Collette between bites.
“Oh, my God, yes.”
So far, the girls had it handled, but the one behind them would be more difficult. They needed to run on either side of that truck and open fire without hesitation.
Collette began to slow the truck down. Over the next ten minutes, little by little, the one in front of them got further ahead, and then it disappeared around a bend in the road. They looked at each other and nodded.
“I’ll go first,” said Laney. “Give me, like, a second to climb over this idiot. Remember, run in and don’t hesitate.”
“Okay. Got it. You ready?”
“Do it.”
Collette pressed down on the brake as Laney climbed over the corpse before they came to a stop. Laney opened the door and jumped to the ground holding the Glock with one hand as she raced towards the back unaware she was about to open fire on Cole Winters.
Chapter 41
Alexandria Virginia
A nervous Green was driving behind Stormy as she headed to one of the storage units he had rented. They had just picked up her white BMW and weren’t too far away from their destination. They had waited until it got dark and the mall was closing as they pulled out among all the other traffic blending in with the other cars and keeping to the speed limit.
“Just a couple of more miles,” Green said aloud.
He had taken the rest of the day off and stayed with Stormy at home. Green let out a small laugh at his mom. He thought she was even more excited about having a girl in his life than he was. Of course, she wanted grandchildren like anyone else but had to wait. She was used to waiting on a military man since she had been married to one.
Green’s nerves subsided as they pulled into the self-storage lot. He had chosen this place because it was a Mom-and-Pop operation on a quiet road without a lot of traffic. It didn’t have any staff workers after hours, and you used a passkey to open the gate.
Driving the lanes between the rows of buildings, he came to the two units he rented which were side by side and where he had another vehicle stashed. He would take it tonight because of the phony tags.
He wasn’t sure about this artist they were meeting, and he would take all of the precautions he could. It included using a fake name tonight and dressing as casual as he could, which included wearing a ball cap. It seemed silly, but he tended to dress conservatively and needed to dress down. So blue jeans, a t-shirt, and ball cap was the way to go. It was dangerous to meet new people who said they wanted to help you bring down the government. You never knew if they would turn you in or, if caught, rat you out. One positive thing was that the man already knew Stormy, but he couldn’t allow anyone to know him well enough to make an identification.
He got out to opened both garage doors. She backed her BMW into the empty stall as Green drove the spare car out of the other one. It was an older Toyota Camry, which was as dependable as you could get. It was one of his requirements when he purchased these vehicles. He didn’t need any of them to be breaking down on him while on an operation.
He then backed his newer Camry inside. Stormy stood off to the side while he shut both garage doors and padlocked them.
He hustled around the passenger side and opened her door.
“Why thank you.”
Green received a kiss for his efforts. He could get used to this.
“So, this place we’re going to, does he live there?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have any roommates?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
“Listen, it’s important that he doesn’t know who I am.”
“I know…I know. Oh, and I’ve decided on a new name for you.”
“Oh? I thought that…”
“No. I got something much cooler than the Bob Smith you came up with. I mean, c’mon, Bob Smith.”
Green turned to her in anticipation.
“I’m dubbing you Rick Case.”
“Rick Case, huh?”
“Yep. Whaddya say, Rick?” asked a smiling Stormy.
“I like it.
“So, where are we headed?” asked Green wanting to refocus.”
“It’s down on New York Ave in Ivy City.”
Green winced at hearing the location. It wasn’t in a great neighborhood, but artists were typically
attracted to those areas because of the cheap rent.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s a bit on the seedy side.”
“Good. The seedier, the better to keep the cops away.”
Green liked her thinking. The more remote they were, the better. Especially, now that there was an arrest warrant out for Stormy. It was dicey enough to be out here with her, to begin with. He would have to see about getting her a fake id or passport. His friend, Sam, could probably help with that. He had been the one to get all the counterfeit documents and tags for his new vehicles.
The drive to the artist’s place didn’t take long, and Green parked in front of a small building that was jammed in between two larger ones. It was on the fringe of one of D.C.’s more inhospitable neighborhoods. The area was strewn with garbage. A shopping cart with a broken wheel was abandoned next to a dirty mattress. None of the streetlights were working, and it was difficult to see anything. It was a perfect place to rendezvous. No cops in their right minds would bother to come down here unless it was to pick up a dead body.
“What’s his name?” asked Green as he turned the car off.
“Julio Vasquez. He’s like early-twenties.”
They got out and banged on the front door of the windowless façade. It took a few moments before Julio answered.
“Stormy!” he said as he gave her a big hug. Julio stood about five-six and sported mid-length hair with a shadow of a beard he was desperately trying to grow. His smile was infectious as he reached out to shake Green’s hand.
“This is Rick, Rick Case,” said Stormy.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” said Julio.
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Green.
“Come in, come in,” said Vasquez as he pulled the door open.
It was an open-air type of interior with a workbench off to one side and carpenter tools lying about. An artist easel stood next to a table with various tubes of paint and brushes. A copy machine sat beside it. In the very back was a closed off area where Vasquez slept.
“I’ve been anxiously waiting for you guys. I’ve got some great ideas that I’ve already put together.”
“Oh?” asked Stormy.
“Yeah, man. I got real excited when you told me what you had in mind and why.”
Green looked at Stormy wondering exactly how much she’d told him. Not that he was too worried about this young man. He had a way about him that immediately put you at ease.
Vasquez led them to a table with rolled up tubes of paper lying on top. He grabbed one that was four feet wide and asked Stormy to hold the end. He then walked backward as he unrolled a six-foot caricature of Perozzi as a frail old man being held up by two bikini-clad, busty ladies, one of whom was holding a colostomy bag.
Green’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh my goodness,” laughed Stormy. “That’s friggin awesome.”
Vasquez turned to Green. “You like it, Rick?”
“Wow! You are talented,” grinned Green.
Vasquez rolled it up and grabbed another. This was of Perozzi as a puppet master holding the strings of the President as a marionette. Another painting showed Perozzi looming over the President and Vice-President with the words “bought and paid for” on an oversized receipt.
“Julio, these are fantastic,” said Stormy. “Didn’t I tell you this guy was good?”
“They’re outstanding,” said Green.
“I’ve got a ton of ideas and a few people to help me put them up.”
Green shot him a concerned look.
Vasquez recognized it. “It’s all good. Look, a lot of my artist friends have been changing their minds. You know, we thought things would be better with the government controlling everything, but they’re worse. A lot worse. We got no freedom to say or paint what we want, and we’re pissed off about it. It isn’t right what they’re doing, and it’s time to change it. Artists can make a huge difference, and we’re gonna paint this town and show them that.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Julio,” said Green pulling a wad of hundred dollar bills out of his jacket. “Will this be enough to get things rolling?”
Vasquez’s eyes widened. “More than enough. I’ve got some supplies already, but this will buy us everything we’re gonna need and then some.”
“Take some and pay these friends of yours,” said Green.
“Thank you,” smiled Vasquez.
“When can you get started?”
“Oh, we’re going out tonight. Got some bus stops to hit up, and these big ones are gonna be wheat-pasted up high. It’ll take them at least a day to take ‘em down.”
“Okay. Now, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to get caught.
“Oh, yeah. We’ve all done this type of thing before, so we know what we’re doing.”
“Just make sure your guys understand that if you get caught, they’ll torture you for any info that might help them round everyone up.”
“We understand that.”
Green and Stormy chatted with Julio for a few more minutes before leaving. Green was impressed by his enthusiasm. He was like a lot of people that thought the government was there to help; only to find out later the harsh realities of total control. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late to change things.
Green smiled because he had just hired some Shadow Patriots, though they didn’t know it. There were thousands of potential members across the country who easily outnumbered the government. They just needed a spark, and with some luck, this art would help do that here in the district.
Chapter 42
Somewhere on the road in Minnesota
After running to catch up with his stolen truck and taking out the driver, Winters liked his chances of rescuing the girls. As always, he would rely on the element of surprise. He had used this tactic to great effect over the past few months. It was how he was able to defeat larger forces with his much smaller army.
Up until an hour ago, all he could think about was getting back to Jackson and see his small army again. He hoped they would forgive him for taking off in the middle of the night. It wasn’t his best moment, but at the time, he wasn’t thinking clearly. He was confident Reese hadn’t given up on him. She of all people knew what he was going through. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel thinking about her and fantasized about what he would do when he saw her. He would grab onto her and kiss her regardless of who might be around.
He was yanked out of his fantasy when he noticed a flash of light on the side mirror of the truck in front of him. He leaned forward when another flash happened.
“Those were gunshots,” he said aloud to no one.
He let off of the gas pedal and backed off for a second, but then maintained his speed. Something has happened. Was it the girls? It was two shots. Did Fowler kill them? But Collette was driving. He slowed down some more to see if a body was going to tumble out of the truck. Did the girls kill him? His mind was racing trying to come up with an answer. Collette didn’t jam on the brakes in sheer panic. She was driving as if nothing happened.
Over the next ten minutes, Winters’ mind hadn’t stopped thinking about what happened in that cab. However, as the lead truck slowly pulled away from them, it dawned on him that Collette was slowing down a little bit at a time. Then it hit him. Fowler was dead.
At first, he nodded his head at how proud he was of the girls, but then he realized he was in trouble. His two innocent shadows were going to come after him thinking he was Cochran.
This was Laney’s style. Impulsive, only this time she was thinking in advance. They let the lead truck get far ahead so he wouldn’t see the muzzle flashes. No doubt, they’ll charge in and shoot first then ask questions.
He let off the gas to put a little more space between them. His palms began to sweat when he saw the lead truck hit a curve in the road and disappear into the darkness. This was the perfect place, and they knew it.
He jammed on the brakes just a couple of seconds before Collette did. He had on
e option. He saw their brake lights just as he pulled the door handle. He jumped to the ground just as Laney came rushing in on the other side firing her pistol into the cab. Winters tripped. When he landed, he fell into a full roll to the other side of the road.
Collette sprinted to the truck and fired her Glock through the windshield. The girls kept shooting while Winters tumbled into the tall grass. He tried to count the shots but lost track. He didn’t dare yell out until he was sure their magazines were depleted.
Finally, the shooting stopped.
Winters lifted his head and saw them looking in the cab, confused that it was empty.
He put his hands to his mouth and yelled. “Don’t shoot girls. It’s me. Cole.”
Both turned in his direction with their pistols raised.
“Don’t shoot me, girls,” yelled Winters again. He got up and raised his hands high in the air. “See, it’s me.”
“Cole Winters!” yelled Laney.
Collette squealed in delight.
They both charged in and threw their arms around him.
“You didn’t think I’d let these fools get away did ya?”
“Well, yeah. That’s why I killed Fowler,” said Laney as she let go of him.
“We were, like, going to come back and get you,” said Collette.
“Good going,” said Winters.
“Oh damn, we, like, almost killed you,” exclaimed Collette.
“Yes you did, but luckily, I figured it out just in the nick of time.”
“Oh, my God. Thank God you did,” said Laney. “That would have sucked big-time.”
“But, like, how did you get here?” asked Collette.
“As soon as I saw the trucks leaving, I hauled ass and was able to jump on the bumper. I got in the cab when we made that turn.”