The driver of the right side van veered away. He dodged right again to get around a slower car and then reengaged, coming in fast. This time, another man took up position peering over the top of the van.
The van on the left sped up, making up the ground it lost. Alina put in a new clip and fired repeatedly through their windshield. The driver ducked and swerved. The van hit the guardrail and bounced back into the left lane. The van driver looked at Alina through five holes of cracked glass and yelled at someone behind him. Immediately, another gunman appeared in the side door and opened fire.
Maric made a sudden move to the left, throwing Alina off balance and onto the cot just as a hail of bullets streamed through the open rear window and ran along the top of the truck. Alina laid on the bed for just a brief second, long enough to see sky light pouring through the jagged holes above. Then she was up, firing once again. Sparks flashed around the soldier, and he retreated to the interior.
Alina fell back, ejecting the empty clip. Leaning against the wall, she reached behind her for a new one.
“How’s it coming?” she called to Goran.
“Better than you. I’ve just got one to deal with.” He fired five shots. “Think you can handle them?”
“If I can’t, we’re all dead. You just keep shooting. I’ll hold up my end.”
Maric cut in. “Uh, people? We’ve got a problem.”
Alina and Goran followed his gaze up front. Before them was a line of stalled traffic.
“There’s a wreck up there,” Maric said.
“Go around them,” Alina shouted and returned fire through the rear window.
“And just how do you expect me to do that? Cars are blocking all lanes. I’ve got no place to go.”
“Well you can’t stop, either. So think of something quick.”
Maric swept hard right, banging into the right van. It careened into the side of a passenger car. The man leaning out the door was almost cut in half, then disappeared from view. The van on the left sped up to get a better shot, only to be forced to stop again when Maric made a hard left, heading straight toward the guardrail.
“Hang onto something!” he shouted. “This is going to be rough.”
The heavy iron bumper sheared through the aluminum divider. The truck shuddered as it broke the wooden posts holding it in place. Everything in the cab bounced and then smacked into the dash at the sudden deceleration. Then the truck was free—but heading into oncoming traffic.
The van drivers seemed caught by surprise. They mashed their brakes, skidding hard. The left van crashed through a section of guardrail that had buckled outward from the truck’s collision, almost tearing off the van’s front end. The plastic bumper dragged along the pavement as the driver backed up and angled for the gap.
The other driver yawed left for a better approach. It merged through the slowing left lane traffic and then accelerated through the opening. The damaged van reversed its backward course and followed in pursuit. Steam began rising from its front.
Maric tried dodging cars left and right, but the heavy truck was sluggish to respond. He finally opted for riding straight down the center stripe, flashing his lights and blowing the big clapper horn. Cars peeled off left and right.
The move bought Alina and Goran some time. Forced to stay in trail because of the traffic, the men in the vans could only fire from one direction. The lead van effectively blocked the second one. Goran moved to the back window alongside Alina.
A soldier appeared in the sliding door and began shooting. With the driver swerving, few shots came close, but some skipped off the roof, close enough to make both of them duck for shelter. Then they were up, returning fire.
Alina was the better shot. She hit the gunman in the chest. He fell back into the confines of the lead van.
“Draw them in closer!” Goran yelled above the wind noise and gunfire.
Maric slowed down.
With the van just fifty meters away now, Alina and Goran concentrated their fire on its engine. They annihilated the radiator. Steam now rose from this van, too.
“It’s only a matter of time now,” Goran said. “Soon both vans will overheat. They’ll have to give up the chase.” He called to Maric, “Any chance of getting off this deathtrap of a highway?”
“There’s an entrance ramp not far ahead. If I can make it over there, I can circle around and get into the southbound lane. It’s getting over there that’s going to be tricky.”
“Do it.”
The lead van driver must have been thinking the same thing. In a last-ditch effort, he pulled alongside the truck. A shooter inside the van aimed for the tires.
The truck had four rear tires, two on each side. The outer tire on the left side blew apart from the assault. Alina shot indiscriminately into the van. They were so close now she heard shouts of pain.
The lead van pulled aside to let the second van with the wrecked front end have a try. Alina heard their engine laboring. No sense shooting the radiator. It was already leaking coolant. She and Goran concentrated their aim at the open slide door. When their clips ran dry, they both reached for their remaining spare magazine.
They looked up to see yet another soldier, his bloody arm emerging from the dark confines. Alina let off six rounds, missing each time.
“Keep it steady, Maric. I can’t hit them with you swerving in and out like that.”
“You said get to the entrance ramp,” he yelled over the noise. “This is me getting there!”
Alina nodded and had just turned to look back when the soldier opened fire with his AK. A bullet hit her shoulder. She dropped her gun and fell back, hitting her head on Maric’s seat.
“Are you all right?” Goran said.
She grimaced. “Just a nick. A few inches lower and I’d be missing my right arm, though. You keep shooting. Get that guy!”
Goran’s rate of fire kept the man from exposing himself. Alina, unable to fight just yet, busied herself with reloading the clips. When Goran yelled for more, she had one ready.
Maric called back, “This is it. Brace yourselves.”
The hard turn rolled both of them to the right. The maneuver was so tight that had Goran not been grasping the windowsill, he would have tumbled off the cot and into the floor.
The fist van followed in kind, but the driver of the second van, his vision blocked from seeing the oncoming cars, failed to turn in time. He crashed head on with another semi-trailer heading his way. The rear end bounced up, the bloody engine crushing through the cargo area.
Maric turned right on the overpass and then made a sharp turn left, going into the southbound lane well ahead of the accident that forced them across the median in the first place. Now there was no one on the road except for them and the single black van.
The van ran up to the left side. With the truck now running on one rear tire on the left side, a gunman, well hidden in the interior darkness, opened fire on the remaining wheel. Sparks flashed off the rim.
Goran poured an entire clip into the van. The firing from the van stopped. The driver pulled back and then came up the right side. He held a gun.
The van’s engine was squealing now. He did not have much time. Now even with the truck’s side window, he shot at Maric.
Maric ducked at the incoming bullets. Some of them smacked the steering wheel. Others etched a straight line pattern across the windshield.
“Will one of you get this guy before he kills me?”
Goran scrambled into the passenger seat. With one swift move, he sat in the chair, turned, and fired one shot. The driver slumped in his seat.
The van veered far right, now totally out of control. It crashed into a ditch on the far side of the road.
Alina crawled back to the rear window looking for more pursuers, but there were none. “We’re clear,” she said, then collapsed on the bed.
Goran went to her side. “Let me look at that.”
He unbuttoned the top few buttons on her shirt and pulled the collar over
the shoulder.
“This is more than a scratch, Alina. You’re going to need some stitches.” He turned to Maric. “We need some medical supplies. Know of any place near here?”
Maric shook his head. “All the ones I know are back in town. We’re out in the middle of nowhere now.”
Goran did the best he could. He tore off one of Alina’s shirtsleeves and made a compress out of it. He then found a roll of duct tape and fastened it in place.
“There,” he said. “That should hold you till we get to Plovdiv.”
Alina shuffled to a sitting position, her teeth bared. “How long till we get there?”
Maric called from the front, “We should be okay. Because of that high-speed chase back there, we made good time. If you can do your part, our plan is still a go.”
“I’ll make it,” she said. She tested her arm. “I’ll make it. Just get us there before it’s too late.”
Chapter 14
They arrived in Plovdiv thirty minutes early.
“Perfect,” Maric said. “Just enough time to get in and out.”
“You sure about the place and time?”
He nodded. “Done this before, remember?”
As he drove through the streets, his truck elicited stares from the people. The bullet-ridden cab definitely stood out.
“Where is it?” Alina asked.
“Just around the next block.”
Maric turned the corner and stopped in front of a blue house. It wasn’t much, a simple one-bedroom dwelling with a carport. In the driveway was a white semi truck cab similar to Maric’s.
“What is this?” Goran asked.
“Just dropping by to see a friend.”
“We don’t have time for this. We’re on a tight schedule.”
Maric said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.”
He climbed down from the cab and went to the house with Alina and Goran in tow. He knocked. A man who looked remarkably like Maric answered the door. He too was tall, haggard, and pot-bellied.
“What do you want, Maric?” the man said, not bothering to open the screen door.
“Hello, Dimitrije.”
Without another word, Maric pulled out his Sig and shot the man in the chest! Dimitrije stumbled backward with a surprised look on his face. He stood there a moment, looking at the blood seeping from his heart. Maric fired two more times. Dimitrije dropped to his knees before falling face-first on the floor, lifeless.
Alina screamed, “What...what are you doing? You shot him!”
“Excellent powers of observation,” Maric said, pocketing the gun. “Come on.” He started back toward the truck.
Alina and Goran stared through the screen door at the dead man.
“This wasn’t part of our plan, Maric,” Alina said. “You murdered a man in cold blood.”
Maric spun and stomped back to her, his face red. “And just what is it you call what you do?”
“I call it revenge.”
He gave a grim smile. “A distinction worthy of a lawyer. Either way you look at it, we both kill. I, too, killed a man for something.” Again, he turned to leave.
“But he did nothing to you,” she said, walking after him. “This man was innocent. He didn’t deserve to die.”
Maric whirled. “Innocent? You think this man was innocent? Think again, Alina. Dimitrije was the regular driver for Oric’s drug runs. He was in on the corruption. What did you think? Did you really believe we would just waltz in there and steal a trailer? No. If I hadn’t killed him, Dimitrije would be driving up real soon. I had to make sure he was out of the picture. So what if he’s out of it for good?”
“But you didn’t have to kill him!”
“What I did, I did to protect us. Now I suggest you get back in the cab before I leave you here.”
With that, he was gone.
Alina and Goran looked at each other. Alina was livid. By the look on Goran’s face, so was he.
“Better keep an eye on him,” Goran whispered. “It appears we really don’t know him that well.”
“You’re right,” she said as they walked back to the truck. Maric revved the engine, watching them. “We had better watch ourselves, too. I’m not sure what side he’s playing any more.”
“I think he’s playing his own side.”
Alina got in. Before Goran could close the door, Maric was already in second gear, rolling down the street.
“Now you’re in a hurry?” Goran said.
Maric nodded. “We have ten minutes to get where we’re going. If there’s traffic, it will take fifteen.” He looked at him. “Pray there’s no traffic.”
“Why? What difference does five minutes make?”
“Because at precisely 5:00, the regular guards come on shift. We have to be out of there by then.”
“I still say you shouldn’t have killed him,” Alina’s tone cut deep. “We could have tied him up.”
“And then what? We would be worrying if he managed to free himself while we’re at the loading dock. No, I did what I did because I had to.”
“No, you did it because you wanted to.”
Maric shrugged and nodded. “That too.”
The loading dock was on the backside of a large warehouse. A concrete ledge four meters high rose above a sloped, indented ramp. As Maric pulled in, they saw an unmarked trailer ready to go. Three soldiers patrolled the top of the loading area.
“Plenty of time,” Maric said. “Everybody ready?”
“Who are they?” Goran pointed at the soldiers.
“Bulgarian Army. General Dimitrov’s men. They normally ride shotgun. They provide the escort service across the country.” He backed up, easing toward the trailer. The cab’s hitch connected with a thump. Maric hopped out of the truck.
While he was connecting the air lines, a man approached him, speaking Serbian. “Who are you?”
“I’m the driver. You have the shipping manifest?”
The man hesitated, looking Maric up and down. He glanced at the cab. “What happened?”
Maric gave a short smile. “In our line of work, you know there are risks. We ran into some trouble getting over here. That’s why we’re late.”
“And who is ‘we?’ You never bring anyone with you. That’s the rules. Our men ride with you. No one else.”
Goran climbed out of the cab and approached them. “Anything wrong?”
Maric said, “It seems our friend here doesn’t trust us.”
“Why should I? You’re not the normal driver.”
“Who were you expecting? Dimitrije?” Maric asked.
The man nodded.
“He’s out sick. I’m his replacement. This is my driving partner.”
“I’ve no word of this. Not of you or a partner.”
“You wouldn’t,” Maric said, jerking a thumb at Goran. “He was already with me when I got the call. It was a last minute thing. Dimitrije said he had the flu or something, but he couldn’t drive. Wanted to know if I could take his shift. I had no choice but to bring my partner. But don’t worry. He can ride in the back. Your man can take the front.”
“And your name is?”
“Maric. You can look it up. I’ve driven the route before.”
“I’ll have to call this in,” the man said. He turned and walked away.
“No you won’t,” Maric said as he pulled out his pistol and shot the man in the back. The man arched then went down face-first into the pavement.
The three soldiers on the platform were slow to respond. Maric snapped off five more rounds. Two of the guards went down. The third dove behind the trailer.
Three more guards emerged from the warehouse. When they did, they came out shooting. Goran took cover in front of the cab as bullets clipped its frame. He peered around the corner.
Maric had never moved. He kept firing at the three men. Another man ducked out of the firefight. The two remaining soldiers stood their ground, slugging it out. Amazingly, with all the bullets buzzing through the air,
no one was hit—a common occurrence in an adrenaline-pumping gunfight.
Goran rolled out and grabbed Maric by the collar. He yanked him behind the cab with him, the sound of supersonic lead popping past their ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled above the clamor. “This wasn’t part of the plan either. We agreed no killing!”
“No. You agreed to no killing. Not me. Did you really think we’d just drive in, hitch up, and take the drugs? These are soldiers. They follow direct orders. If someone changes those orders, they get confirmation first. We can’t have them contacting Oric—not just yet.”
“I still don’t like the way you’re doing things. If you’re going to change the plan, I’d appreciate it if you’d tell us in advance.”
“Oh, stop crying and shoot something!”
Goran nodded with pressed lips and rolled left. Maric took the driver’s side. They sighted down the sides of the trailer. No one there.
“They’re still behind the trailer,” Goran whispered.
Maric nodded and proceeded to walk slowly down the slanted loading ramp. Goran paralleled him on the passenger side.
The soldiers had the tactical advantage of being four meters above them. Suddenly, two men rolled out from behind the trailer on Goran’s side.
Goran fired first, hitting one of the soldiers in the stomach. The man doubled over, then straightened to shoot back. Goran fired three more times. The soldier took a few steps back and sat on the concrete floor, then slumped over to one side.
Shooting erupted on the other side of the trailer.
The second gunman on Goran’s side cut loose from the hip, never bothering to aim. Goran dodged beneath the trailer. With a dozen bullets clipping around him, he aimed with his left hand and fired one shot. The 9mm slug hit the man in the leg.
The rate of fire increased on the other side to a constant barrage. Maric must be having a hard time of it, Goran thought, but he could not worry about that. Even now, the soldier in front of him rose to one knee and fired three shots. Goran snapped off two while diving for the deck, and rolled down the sloping ramp. When he came up, he was looking straight into the muzzle of an AK-47.
Alina's Revenge Page 12