Chapter Seventeen

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Luis was still awake, of course. He’d bought himself a video game system and a cheap-ass television which gave him something to do. Better yet, it stopped him from annoying me whenever he got bored.

“Yo.” He said, not taking his eyes of the screen. “You two have a nice night?”

“Better than yours.” She said, catching me by surprise.

“Are you two a thing now? I don’t want none of that sappy bullshit around me.”

Cambria snorted and walked to her room, but she didn’t deny it. Luis paused the game to give me a look, and I shook my head. He shrugged and went back to the game.

“What’d you guys do?” He asked.

“Ate Chinese.”

“For three hours?”

“It was some really good Chinese food.”

I didn’t really want to share my emotional problems with Luis. He’d be sympathetic, but he wouldn’t understand or know how to help. All I’d be doing is weakening his opinion of me. If he wanted to think we’d been fucking after I denied it, that was on him.

“I’ve been thinking.” He said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ass.” He paused. “I’ve been thinking about paying Marco’s gang a visit. His place is east side, and it looked half empty when I drove past there yesterday.”

“You’ve been casing Marco’s place?”

“I’m fucking pissed off. They killed John, and I know you’re not being slow because it don’t bother you, but I’m not in the mood to wait. I wanna fucking hurt ‘em. I get that we can’t hit the Rooks or The Gray right now, but I want to at least do something.”

In the reflection from the windows I could see that he was glaring into the TV.

“I get that, dude. It’s just that if one of us gets shot or something we’d be down for a month or more. Even the dumb kind of shitheads that Marco hires can get lucky. We can’t really give up that amount of time right now, not with only two shooters.”

Luis groaned as his character in the game died. He shook his head and set down the controller, standing up to stretch.

“You’re such a fucking buzzkill.” He said. I knew the anger wasn’t meant for me, so I let it go.

His phone started ringing at the same time mine did. We exchanged glances, both of us realizing that something was off but not thinking about it enough to stop ourselves from answering.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Yo.” Luis said.

From down the hallway I could hear Cambria speak. “Who is this?”

“Good evening. Since you’re on a clock, I’ll keep this short. As of eleven twenty-six P.M. seventeen Los Zetas gunmen have entered the Kismal’s Eastern ghettos. They know your location and intend to kill you all.” The man on the phone had one of the least recognizable accents I’d ever heard. It was clear English, without a trace of ethnic stuttering or dragging of vowel sounds. Maybe more worrying was the fact that he sounded completely bored with us.

I pulled the phone away from my face to check the current time. Eleven twenty-seven.

The man on the phone was almost certainly our anonymous guardian. There were other possible explanations, but it simply fit that he was the one behind the murders at our house. That meant he was using the power behind him to keep watch over us for some reason or another. He could have been lying to force us out of the house, but that would have been pointless given he knew our exact locations and had trained operatives under him. Even though I didn’t trust him, the odds seemed much better if I treated the threat as real.

“Cambria, get the money!” I barked. “Luis, grab our gear!”

They bolted into motion, struggling to be quick and efficient. Luis ran into my room and tossed me my vest, leaning my rifle against the wall for his return trip. I walked to the windows and put my phone back to my ear.

“Give me proof.” I said.

The man sighed. “Damian, you got home sixteen minutes ago from Cho Fu’s diner after eating with Cambria. Before that you were taking a walk through the city, which is unusual because you spend most of your time at Violet’s when out of your home. We track every known element in the city like this. By my estimation Los Zetas’ employees will arrive at your house in four minutes.”

I froze. Four minutes was hardly time to do anything. We couldn’t prepare for a fight or assess our enemies before they’d be all over us. Goosebumps were rising on my skin and my hands had started to tremble. I braced one of them on the window sill to stop it, but the tremor ran up my arm instead.

Headlights traced a house down the road and I cringed. I knew, logically, that any car that close would be less than four minutes away. The knowledge did nothing to help my adrenaline fueled brain. All of my cylinders were firing at maximum speed in that frantic, animal kind of way. I just needed to push my brain to action.

“Can you help us?” I asked, turning away to shrug my vest on. From there it was a short walk to my rifle and the rest of my gear where Luis had laid it.

“No. If you survive I will call you again.” And with that he hung up.

“What are we doing?” Cambria asked, hefting a duffel bag under each arm. She was wide-eyed and breathing hard, but not panicking. That wouldn’t last after the initial shock wore off. We needed to leave.

“We’re taking the car. Luis!” I yelled to get his attention.

He charged into the living room fully geared up, holding his rifle with both hands. I stared hard at my boots, wondering how much time we’d lose if I stopped to put them on. Deciding it would be too much, I gestured to towards the door with a shrug of my shoulder.

Cambria threw the duffels in the back seat of Alfredo’s car and got in. Luis and I took aim down the street and made it to the car in time to notice the sound of approaching vehicles. There at least three, and by the sound of things they were taking different streets to surround us.

“Cambria, watch the back window.” I said, throwing the car into reverse.

We lurched to a stop and I slammed the stick into first gear. We hit third before the end of the block, the tires screeching against the pavement. Another car rounded the corner at the same time we did and angled themselves directly towards us. They weren’t more than fifty feet away, too close to dodge.

“Oh shit!” Luis yelled.

I threw the car to the right and clipped their front end with the left corner of our bumper. Instead of pulling back I kept the wheel cranked, pressing down on the accelerator. Both cars slid off each other, giving me time to swing around him and retreat down another street. Unfortunately that meant going deeper into the ghettos.

“I need a route, Luis.” It was too hard to think while trying to keep us alive.

“I’m on it, I’m on it.”

Something popped and snapped in the wheel well close to me, causing the whole front end to shake. I growled at the piece-of-shit car and prayed that it wouldn’t give out before we go away.

“They’re on the avenue behind us. I can see the lights between houses.” Cambria said.

“Let me know if you see ‘em.” I said.

“Right.”

“Uhh, left here.” Luis said.

I did as he said, finding myself on a curving road running parallel to the nearest freeway.

“Another right and we’ll be in cul-de-sac land. We’ll juke them in there.” Luis said.

“Cul-de-sac land?” I asked.

“There’s a fuckton of cul-de-sacs. The roads here are all retarded and loopy.”

The place was just as Luis described, with streets and avenues that turned and crossed until I couldn’t decide which was which. I started taking turns at random, but the wobbling in the tire was growing worse with every block. We weren’t gaining ground very quickly, and every once in a while I’d catch one of them only a street away, headed in the opposite direction.

“Let me know when we get some distance from them. I’m gonna park.” I said.

Twenty minutes later I still didn’t see an opening. They were like vultures, never close enough to kill us but always too close for comfort. Pulling over on the street wasn’t going to work, they were too near for that. Instead I picked out a section of houses that all looked abandoned and drove past, keeping their locations in my mind.

“Alright, almost ready. Let me know where they are.”

“One car is two roads north.” Luis said.

“There’s one on the corner we passed two turns ago.” Cambria said.

“The third?” I asked.

“Can’t see ‘em.” Luis said.

“Neither can I.”

It would have to do. I pulled the car back towards the chunk of empty houses and found a driveway without a car in it. I pulled into the driveway and then off, taking the grass back behind the houses. We pulled up right behind a house with a back fence and I shut the car off, hoping they wouldn’t notice the tracks in the grass.

“Cambria, get down.” She rushed to sit down in the foot space.

I gripped my rifle so hard that it hurt while we watched the goons circle around. At the right angle flashes of light would pass within feet of our car, but never actually touch it. To me that meant they couldn’t see us, though I couldn’t be sure I was right. I turned slowly in my seat, keeping the noise down even though there was no way they could hear me. Luis vented his anxiety by fidgeting every couple of seconds.

The waiting was worse than if we’d been fighting. If we engaged them we’d almost certainly be killed, but at least it would be on my terms. Waiting in a broken down car meant I was trapped yet again. They could come from any angle, I wasn’t capable of watching all of them. My tension was like a burning in my chest. It wasn’t motivating, just unpleasant.

Cambria was breathing hard in the back seat, taking in short breaths that sounded like panting. She wasn’t used to the life or death stress, and it showed in the way her composure was breaking down. The Los Zetas cars were circling like sharks, and each time we could hear their engines revving she shook in fear.

“I think they’re leaving.” I whispered for Cambria’s benefit.

With nothing else to do, I checked my watch. One twenty-four in the morning. That meant we’d been hiding for an hour, and it wouldn’t be too much longer before the thugs gave it up as a loss. In another twenty minutes they were gone, spreading their search to somewhere West of us.

“We’re clear, probably.” Luis said.

Cambria let out a long sigh and sat up in the back seat. She looked tired, like she’d aged years since we were at Cho Fu’s. I ran a hand through my hair and melted into my seat, letting my arms go limp. Now that I felt safe my shoulder was starting to throb and ache. Fuck me, I’d left my morphine at the house. Was it safe to go back and get my pills?

“What now?” Cambria asked.

“Dunno. Whoever called us said they’d call again if we didn’t die.” I said.

“Do we trust him?” Luis asked.

“Fuck no.” I said. “But we got all knew phones and whoever he works for was still able to figure out where we were. It’s looking to me like we don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“We could go phoneless.”

“We could… I’m just not sure that it matters. Los Zetas found us somehow. It’s possible that the dude on the phone sold us out so they’d push us towards him, but it doesn’t seem likely. I think they tracked us some other way.”

“You think we should do what he wants?”

I took a moment to think it over, looking at it from every angle I could manage. “If it were me on the phone, I wouldn’t give us the choice.”

“Doesn’t that scare you?” Cambria asked in a small voice.

“You kidding? I’m scared as shit.”

I guess I sounded more confident than I was. The idea of some motherfucker tracking my every move and listening in on my phone calls felt like a violation. In a city like Kismal almost anything I did could be used against me. It made this unknown man a huge danger to me, and I’d need to figure out a way to stop him before it got us all killed. Just one more thing to do, I guess.

“Can’t believe we already need a new car.”

“Better than needing new organs.”

Cambria took in a deep breath. “OK, I think I’m better now. We should go to the house to grab-”

She was interrupted by the shared ringing of three phones. I hesitated before reaching down to pick mine off the floor where it had fallen.

“I suppose I should congratulate you.” Said the voice. “I’ve never reached out to an unaffiliated entity like this before, so this could be considered breaking new ground.”

“Who’re you trying to impress?” Luis asked.

“You won’t be able to get a rise out of me, Luis Torries.”

Luis tensed, every muscle in his body going taut. Torries? I’d never known him as anyone other than Luis or Handel. It almost didn’t occur to me that he had a last name.

When no one responded he continued. “I’ll make this simple. Your actions against The Gray have attracted the notice of several powerful groups. The Gray, like the men that tried to kill you tonight, work for Los Zetas.”

I held in a breath, thinking about what that statement meant. It made sense that it would take the permission of one of the big three to eliminate Fourth Street. That raised so many questions, most importantly: did that mean we were up against all of Los Zetas?

“I thought Edward Grandboise funded The Gray.” I said.

The man on the phone paused for a moment. “Edward Grandboise is funded by Los Zetas. The man finances several mercenary groups around the world. Thus far I have been unable to pin him down, but that’s none of your concern. All that I mean to say is your working against The Gray is changing this city in a way that is in my favor.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“It’s not important. What you need to know is that I am going to fund your attempts at revenge up until the point where you cannot continue. I will connect you with a banker who will give you access to the money you need.”

“I’m not interested in working for anyone.” I said.

“Oh, I appear to have misspoken. I’m not in the business of making offers. As soon as you stop working towards ends that suit my interests, I’ll kill you and everyone you care about. I know about Treven, the Torries family, and Samuel Reed. Consider them collateral until I feel satisfied.”

Luis smashed his phone against the dashboard, shattering it into pieces. I gripped mine until I heard the plastic splinter, but stopped myself from breaking it completely. Destroying the phone wouldn’t help if he had access to my dad.

I sucked in air through my teeth, hoping the deep breath would calm me down. Being emotional was bound to make me do something stupid. It was a simple truth, but common sense didn’t hold up to the situation. The fucker was trying to control me with the only thing I really couldn’t afford to lose.

The thought of it made me furious in a cold way. I’d never really understood how deeply fucked up and broken the world was. Everything had been a game to me, wagered with my life and the lives of others in the biz who were there because they wanted to be. I didn’t want to die, but it was something put at stake for the amount of money and power a gang could have. I missed John. He shouldn’t have fucking died. Even so, he knew what he was getting into. Treven, Luis’s family, they didn’t have a goddamn clue.

So I made a decision for all three of us. I decided they weren’t going to die because of our choices.

“Tell us what we need to do.”

“Nothing more than what you’re currently doing.” I clenched my jaw. If smiling had a tone, the man on the phone was using it. “I will supply you with a banker who can connect you to money and people that you need. Within reason, of course. The banker will be the judge of that.”

“And what if the money and the people lead Los Zetas back to you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m rather, err, ingrained, in the systems that run this city. The violence will escalate, and I will be set back several months, but in the end I will almost certainly win. You, however? They’ll kill your loved ones to send a message, even if I don’t do it myself. It is how the Mexicans deal with their enemies.”

That felt like a mental slip to me. I already assumed he wasn’t a Mexican, and it probably wasn’t even important, but I made a note of it because it was more than I knew two minutes ago.

“You can reach your banker by dialing the operator from any phone in the country. Do not enter a number when prompted by the machine. After the tone is done and the line goes silent, enter six four seven one. Identify yourself and you will be connected to my agent. Good luck.”

“Hold on, I’ve still got more questions.”

“The only questions you could ask would be probing me for information because you think you can work against me. I have been doing this for many years, Damian Reed. I suggest you don’t try it.”

Beep.

I leaned back and ran a hand through my hair. One five minute phone call had just changed my entire reason for being in this shithole city. There was suddenly too much information to process, and instead of sifting through it bit by bit my brain was cruising. Scenarios and questions were running through my head that addressed parts of our new situation, but never covering the big picture. Every time I tried to get myself on track, more ideas flowed through me.

One thought slowly overpowered all of the others. Any way I looked at it, he was probably helping us more than he was hurting us. He’d saved us from Los Zetas, at the very least buying us time. With money and connections we had a chance to beat anyone. It meant we were standing on firmer ground than ever before.

We’d fight him, of course. That meant we needed a way to communicate under his notice. It meant hiring competent people that couldn’t be bought, and I wasn’t sure people like that even existed. We’d also need a way to make money of our own. A banker to any serious criminal organization would never be clumsy enough to give us money we could use against him.

“Damian.” Luis said.

“Hmm?”

“Talk to me here. You’re staring out the windshield like you’ve seen Jesus and Satan holding hands.”

“Sorry. Trying to figure out what our next move is.” I started to fiddle with the slide on my rifle.

“He needs to die.” Cambria said.

I was so startled that I turned around in my seat to look at her. She met my eyes, an ugly frown on her face. “Monsters like that don’t deserve to live. He threatened Treven. My brother is just a fucking kid, he has nothing to do with any of this. I swear to God I’m going to make sure he dies.”

I’d been expecting her to lock up or spout some optimistic nonsense, but she’d managed to work herself into a rage instead. That left only Luis’s opinion up in the air.

“You in, Luis?”

“Doesn’t seem like we have a fucking choice. Fucking hell, this shit blows.” I nodded in reply.

“So once again we’re in deeper shit than we were yesterday.” I said.

“Seems like the theme.” Luis growled.

“We’ll find a way to fix this. That bastard is gonna regret helping us out.”

“How are you gonna make him do that?”

“Luis, if he hadn’t protected us we would have died tonight. The stupid fuck is going to hand us money to kill the people we hate. He’s a huge threat, but if he does his job every other problem is less of a concern. I’d rather be up against a guy I know is dangerous than ten that might be.”

Cambria leaned forward in her chair. “When you say it like that, this almost sounds like a win.”

“Honestly? I think it might be.” I said. “We know more now, like the fact that Los Zetas owns The Gray. And I think our caller is from the Yakuza.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked.

“We used a burner to call Leonid about the mine. If Hector Sell did the same, it might not have been recorded. Plus, the guy on the phone acted totally different from how Leonid did.”

“I’m not sure I agree with you. We shouldn’t underestimate this man, not when he’s ransoming our families. It could be someone else within the Bratva who knows about the call and is using that logic to steer us to thinking they’re from the Yakuza. That way if we get caught it’s less likely to come back on them.”

There were so many loopholes and alternate angles that I was starting to get a headache.

“Yo, you remember those towers all over the docks?” Luis asked.

I rubbed at the stubble on my chin. “Yeah, and I think there was a set of dishes and shit on top of The Gray’s barracks. Seems to me like this phone monitoring is a game everyone knows about.”

“It can’t be that simple.” Cambria said, scrunching up her face in concentration.

“Well there’s no point in not looking into it.” I said.

The car got silent after that, each of us on our own subjects. Cambria may have been concerned with finding a way to kill our backer, but I was more keen on keeping us alive. We were about to start playing a new game, one that I didn’t know the rules to. I wondered if the other two felt as uncertain as I did.

“So what are we going to do tonight?” Cambria asked.

“I’m thinking we walk to the freeway and get a hotel. You’ve got the money, right?” I asked.

She patted the duffel beside her.

“Good.” I sighed at the thought of getting up. “Well, no point in sitting here.”

I fumbled with the latch using my left hand before giving up from the pain. With a groan and a lurch I got out and stood up to stretch my legs, finally realizing how stiff they’d gotten.

“Fuck this place.” Luis said.

“Yep.” I replied.

We must have looked strange as we walked through the twisting streets. Two guys openly carrying rifles with Kevlar vests worn over our day clothes, and Cambria who was still dressed in shorts and a Tee shirt. Thankfully nighttime, even in the ghettos, was quiet for those not in a gang. There wasn’t anyone outside to care.

I felt a welling heat in my chest, the simple satisfaction from being alive. It was impossible to feel confident given the way the odds were stacked against me, but I’d be damned before I gave up. With every step I got closer to defeating the city that was trying so hard to keep me down.

Heaven knows I wasn’t one to waste second chances.

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Chapter Sixteen

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Six days later:

A few days before we’d had a service for John. Well, John and the rest of Fourth Street. It wasn’t really a funeral, and we didn’t have a pastor, so I’m not sure if it counted for anything. It helped us feel better, though. Or at least, it helped me feel better.

We’d started out talking to Cambria about small unit tactics and stumbled onto the topic of Fourth Street. From there it turned into a night of drinking and sharing stupid stories about everyone Luis and I had been close to. Cambria couldn’t really follow, but she pretended to care and that was good enough for me.

It didn’t feel like justice, or like anything close to what they deserved. Still, it was all we could do with the resources we had left. A couple hundred thousand dollars just wasn’t enough for the kind of impact we needed. Without a better option, we spent a few days playing the roles of normal people.

I walked out of my room and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Further down the hall Luis and Cambria were already awake and holding a conversation in low voices. Ignoring them, I stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The lukewarm water did more to help me wake up than coffee ever had, and I toweled of feeling somewhat ready for the day. Not that I had any plans to begin with.

“Good morning.” Cambria said from where she sat. My recent trips to Violet’s had helped curb my desire, and so I was able to drag my attention away from her body with minimal effort.

“Yo.” Luis said with a two-fingered salute. He was looking at the pictures in Kismal’s version of Maxim, thumbing through the pages with a look of disinterest. I wondered what Cambria would think about it if she could read Krio.

“Sup.” I said.

“How’d you sleep?” Cambria asked me.

“Pretty good. I’d sleep better if my bed didn’t suck, though.”

Things got quiet for a minute. Both Luis and Cambria were paying attention to me but trying hard not to be obvious about it.

“So what have you got planned for the day?” She asked.

“Dunno yet. Alfredo’s car needs a bit of work. I guess I could do that.”

“What about the future?”

I pulled a protein bar out of a cupboard and started to munch on it, buying a little bit of time. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“Damian…” She said, and Luis went as far as to set the magazine down.

“Hmm?”

“It’s almost been a week. It’s time to start something.” Her voice was more gentle than it should have been, which upset me more than if she’d been mad. It almost sounded like pity. Why the fuck should she pity me?

“We’re not ready. Shit’s still too hot and word is The Gray is still looking for us. I don’t want to split us up selling drugs and get picked off one by one.”

Cambria put a hand to her head to rub at a temple. Maybe I was being a little too difficult, but fuck it. We’d been having this back and forth for the past couple days, so she obviously understood my intentions.

“It’s not like selling crack on a corner is scarier than walked into the harbor looking for a fight.” Luis said.

“One of ours died the last time we went out. Think about it, Luis. Every fight since Fourth Street has gone worse and worse. Another loss and we’re out, if not dead.”

“No one’s talking about fighting again, Damian.” Cambria said.

“What else could we possibly be talking about? It’s gonna come down to a fight in the end.”

There was a long pause.

“Are you saying you don’t want to do this any more?” She asked.

“I’m saying I don’t want to see either of you two die.”

“This is this Kismal, man. You’ve seen people die before. The raid wasn’t the first time we lost people, either. What’s different now?” Luis asked.

“It wasn’t my fault before.”

“Now you’re just being arrogant. It’s never been your fault, ever. If we weren’t taking advice from you, John and I would have done something even crazier by now. It was stupid to think the three of us could take on the whole city, but that isn’t on you.”

He was calling me arrogant? For wanting to protect him? I clenched my hands into fists so hard that my nails drew blood in my palms. So if I tried to keep them safe I was arrogant, and if I didn’t I had to watch them die. The choice was obvious, but there was no good reason for it to be a lose-lose situation. I ground my teeth and stayed silent.

“We’ve got to do something. Money makes money, and I bet that applies here more than anywhere else. Once we get the ball rolling, more opportunities will come.” Cambria said.

“Cash doesn’t fucking fall from the skies on the streets.” I said, raising my voice more than I’d intended. “I’m not sure that you get that. There are boys here in the ghettos that have been slinging weed and coke for years and still can’t afford shit. We need something more than just drug money, especially when there’s this few of us. I’ll think of something, I just need more time.”

With that I stomped out of the house. I wasn’t in the mood to get in a drawn out argument over the hourly wage of running a trap. If she wanted to talk to Luis about it, that only meant less work I had to do. With my hands stuffed into my pockets I set off down the street, aiming for the first major road with a taxi.

People on their porches saw my posture and looked away. Some of them went as far as to bring their kids inside, something they never did when we moved into the area. How far had word about the deaths on our lawn spread? Was that another danger I had to overcome?

There were just too many damn variables to deal with. I needed information and people and money, but in order to get any one of them I needed the other two. Not that our situation was much worse than it had been a week ago, but with John alive it hadn’t been my responsibility. I felt overcome, like there was someone setting me up to fail.

I found my way to the road, but instead of flagging down a taxi I kept walking. Fucking a hooker wouldn’t clear my head or get rid of my anger. It would be a waste of time and money to go to Violet’s in the state I was in.

The cracked concrete trail I was taking suddenly turned into new sidewalk about a mile from the ghettos. Soon after that, apartments sprouted and grew in height with every block I walked. A person could get lost in a place like Kismal, and maybe never find their way out again.

It seemed like getting lost was the whole point, when I thought about it. I merged with the endless trail of pedestrians dressed in muted colors as they traveled to their destinations, each with their eyes staring straight ahead to prove that they weren’t paying any more attention than the next guy. Everyone was actively trying to look exactly like everyone else.

Would I be able to live with myself if I chose a life like that? Probably not, so it didn’t make sense that I was delaying. I didn’t want to back down, but I also didn’t want to move forward. Either one felt like losing. Unable to find a real solution, I let myself ignore it again. I still had time, the situation could be figured out later.

I groaned aloud at the sensation of my phone buzzing in my pocket. Four rings later I finally picked it up to find Cambria’s name playing across the screen.

“Yo.”

“Where are you?” She asked.

“Halfway to downtown. Everything OK?”

“What? Oh, yeah, we’re fine. It’s just that you’ve been gone for nearly four hours and with the way you were so angry when you left… I just wanted to be sure you were alright. Listen, it’s about dinner time now. How about I pick you up and we go eat somewhere without Luis?”

The question distracted me enough that I stopped walking. Her tone didn’t suggest anything, but from my years as a scumbag I knew only two reasons she’d want to take me out alone. There was something she wanted to hide from Luis, or she wanted me. I wasn’t very comfortable with either option, but it seemed to me like the best way to figure out which she meant was to go along with it.

“Sure, why not? I’m walking down 82nd street, let me know when you’re on the way and I’ll pick somewhere to stop.”

“OK, good. I’ll head out then.”

“Yep, bye.” I said before hanging up.

I found a bench and sat down to stretch my shoulder, knowing that this was one thing I didn’t have to be afraid of. Cambria was a lot of things that I didn’t understand, but she wasn’t an asshole. If nothing else, I had faith in her not fucking me over.

She drove up in Alfredo’s old car around twenty minutes after the phone call. I smiled a little as I watched her pull over to the side of the road while others screamed by on both sides. She wasn’t a bad driver, but the cars of Kismal often puttered along at a relaxing sixty miles per hour down city streets. That’s the kind of shit that gives people a nervous tick.

“I want Asian food.” She said as soon as I climbed into the passenger seat.

“What?”

“I don’t know where to eat around here. Where’s a good place to get Asian food?”

“If you’re looking for fancy eats, I’m the wrong guy.”

“I’m not.”

“Well then, Cho Fu’s is pretty good.”

“Cho Fu’s?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s owned by locals.” I said as an explanation.

I had to give her directions the whole way there, which was fine by me. It was an easy, weightless kind of conversation that hadn’t happened much recently. Cho Fu’s itself was a hole-in-the-wall on the edge of downtown. It was Asian in the same way Taco Bell was Mexican, which is about as much ethnicity as I can handle in my food.

Cambria turned around and gave me a look as soon as she saw the inside of the place.

“You told me you didn’t want fancy.” I said.

“But this?” She asked, gesturing at the window. The inside was set up like a 70s diner with white tile walls and red plastic trim on the baseboard and tables. An Asian manned the doorway, but there wasn’t any other clue that the place served ethnic food.

“There’s two types of places to eat in this city. The super fancy, frilly places for the mega rich, or shitholes like this. There isn’t really a middle class in Sierra Leone.”

She shook her head before giving a shrug. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Welcome to Cho Fu’s. Please follow me.” The waitress’s smile was so fake it was almost disturbing.

I kept walking when she stopped at a table, taking us to a corner booth. To her credit, the smile didn’t fail even for a second and she handed us the menus before giving a bow and walking away. Cho Fu’s had the added bonus of a menu that was actually in English, instead of a mostly-English type of Krio.

Cambria ended up choosing some kind of vegetable stir fry while I went with a beef pad thai. Both items sizzled and popped on their plates, slick with grease and sauces. I dug in like I hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“So what’s up?” I asked through a mouthful of food.

“John’s death was not your fault.”

The statement caught me so off guard that I swallowed my food wrong.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to hold a dumb conversation with something hanging over our heads. John’s death wasn’t your fault, and you’re only hurting yourself by thinking it.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but paused to think of something else. Lying would also be a waste of time. “The hell it wasn’t. It was a stupid plan to begin with. But it’s not just that.”

“Even when we drove in I saw the looks, the way people were paying attention to us. I knew we were fucked. And I let it happen anyway, just because I felt like it was our last chance to really beat them.”

Overly dramatic as it was, I let my words sit like that. I gave her a stare without emotion, hoping that would scare her more than real anger. Instead of flinching away, her expression became soft. She smiled faintly, not an expression of joy but a look of pity.

“Were you a leader in Fourth Street?” She asked.

“Fuck no.”

“Have you ever been one to lead, in any situation?”

“Not really.” I said, starting to get a general feel of where this was headed.

“That’s what I thought. Damian, being a leader isn’t about taking responsibility for everything.”

“When the hell have I been a leader?”

“I’ve been watching you the whole time you’ve been protecting me. Watching all three of you. Most of the things you guys did were your ideas, and you did most of the fleshing out on the ideas that weren’t yours. You feel the pressure of that even if you don’t claim to be in charge.”

She continued in a small voice to avoid attracting the waitress’s attention. “What I’m saying is that I don’t believe you. I think that if you actually realized you were caught, you would have called the other two off. You’re looking back at it now and trying to see ways you could have changed things. You’re looking hard enough that your new ideas have altered your memory. It’s probably true that you had a bad feeling, but at the time I doubt you knew what it meant.”

“There are so many things we could have done differently the whole way through, Cambria. I should have seen the flaws before, and now I have to make sure we don’t make the same mistakes again.” I said.

“Absolutely. We can’t afford to make mistakes. But things are going to go wrong no matter what. You have limits. Even if you worked twice as hard as you do now, there will still be things you can’t stop. There are only so many variables you can control at one time, and the rest just have to be reacted to.”

Fuck that. Even though there was sense to what she was saying, I was better than that. I had to be, because I’d be damned if I was going to let anyone else die on my watch.

When I didn’t speak up she began again. “How many good plans have you come up with since the docks?”

“None. There hasn’t been one plan good enough.”

She nodded. “Because you’re destroying yourself. You’re trying to eliminate every possible factor that can cause our next move to fail, and since that isn’t possible you’re failing to find an option.”

“So what do you want me to do instead? Fail?”

“Luis and I both trust you. Otherwise we wouldn’t be waiting for you this long. There is no perfect idea with zero risk, it’s a fact I accept. I just want a way forward that you think will succeed, and I want you to not blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. You’re so quick to take on the risk yourself. You need to realize that we’re doing the same.”

And they were, really. This whole time I’d been with a group of people who were willing to throw themselves into danger for their own reasons. In Fourth Street it had been money, and after it had been revenge. The danger was worth it to me, and I guess I just never fully realized that others may think the same way.

I took a deep breath and let myself relax, taking seconds to hold my emotions back. She was probably right, in the end. There wasn’t a way to be perfect, I just had to pick from the options available. I didn’t agree that John’s death wasn’t my fault… but maybe I wasn’t entirely responsible.

“OK, I think I can do that. At least I can try, and if I can’t relax I’ll let you guys know.”

“Good. Great. It’s all going to work out, Damian. I just know it.” She said with a gentle smile.

She looked so calm and friendly that I realized something felt off about the whole situation. The whole emotional heart-to-heart bullshit helped me, I couldn’t deny it. It was just weird, though, that she’d be so emotionally open in the city that had hurt her so much. A normal person takes that kind of trauma and becomes angry or distant, but Cambria was acting like she’d never seen a crime in her life.

Maybe it was just because I only spent time around women who were sluts. No, even when I looked at it that way it was still weird. She cried when she was supposed to cry, was concerned when she was supposed to be concerned, but she never really fought against the fucked up things we were doing or going through.

I decided I was going to keep an eye on her from that point forward. It was all too strange to ignore.

Despite all of that, I was completely genuine when I said, “Thank you. That helped, I think.”

She kept up the smile for a moment more before starting up the small talk again. By the time I remembered my plate, the quarter of food that was left was too cold to eat. For once, that was all right with me.

I drove us to the house, and halfway through the trip Cambria fell asleep in the passenger seat. Making a point not to bother her, I kept the drive smooth and slow. Hell, I actually drove the damn speed limit for once. The weight of night that was so oppressive to the civilians didn’t bother me, not when I was just driving down the road.

Even breathing was getting easier. I had relaxed enough that the tension in my chest was fading, bringing relief I hadn’t known I wanted. John was dead. The fact that I could even think that without my blood pressure rising was a sign of improvement. I sighed, leaning back into my seat until we got back.

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Chapter Fifteen

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I batted his gun aside with a slap from my left hand and punched him in the face with my right. He stumbled backwards and tried a clumsy return shot that sailed over my head. With my left arm I punched him in the flank, right where his liver sat. Before I could even shove him out of the way two more goons were on me, punching and kicking at my sides.

The blows to my left shoulder were excruciating, not that the rest of it didn’t hurt like a bitch. I flailed my arms and legs, kicking one of them to the ground. Instead of backing off he fell on top of me and started throwing even more punches.

“Damian? Yo?” Luis’s voice asked.

The goons were screaming too, a soup of words that made my brain hurt as much as my body. I brought my arms to my head and tried to curl up into a ball, but they just pulled my legs back and kept swinging. In an act of desperation I rolled onto my front side, pulling my hands underneath me.

When they shoved me onto my back, I had a grenade in my hand.

I held the handle down with my right, but the pin was in my left. Two of them caught on almost immediately and scrambled back, while the rest landed a couple more punches before figuring it out.

Six variations of “what the fuck” came out of six different mouths in an instant. One man lurched towards the door and pushed it open.

“Don’t let him leave!” I barked.

A goon who wasn’t close to the door closed in to grab the escapee’s collar and drag him to the ground. A calm fell over the room as I gingerly pushed myself to my feet.

“Which one of you is in charge?” A couple of the goons pointed to a single guy.

I switched the grenade to my left hand and pulled out my pistol. In one quick motion I shot the goon who’d try to escape and the one who’d brought him down. After they’d fallen to the ground in pain, I carefully put a bullet in each of their skulls. With a gesture I forced the leader to turn and put the barrel of my gun into his neck, above his vest.

“We’re gonna walk out of here as a group, calm as if nothing was happening. The four of you are going to lead me out of here, around any guards, and to the ocean. Don’t try to run. Between this grenade and my pistol, I can kill at least two of you. If those odds weren’t bad enough, you’re already dead to your bosses for letting me get control. The quieter this is, the less chance that anyone will know what happened. Do not test me.”

It was a bit of an exaggeration to claim I could beat them in a fight, but it was effective.

“Now, someone pick up that radio and hold it close to me. Use both hands. And someone else grab my rifle.”

I let two of them travel ahead of me and two of them follow behind as we stepped out into the sunlight. The forces setting up on the road hadn’t had time to adjust their position and weren’t there to see us dive back down the alleys.

“Luis, we’re on our way to the docks.” I said.

“Holy fuck, I was afraid I’d lost you.” Luis said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wait, we?”

“I made friends.”

“Jesus Christ, dude. Where are you headed?”

I poked the leader in the back with the muzzle of the pistol.

“There’ll be less people if we go south. The boys upstairs expected you to double back like you’ve been doing.” He said.

“I’m gonna need a little bit more than that.” Luis said.

“You’ve got a boat?”

“Yeah”

“There’s three smaller docks between piers sixteen and seventeen. Ships on both piers means no one’s gonna notice the extra vessel. That’s the goal, for now.”

We were heading south, but not west. I kept glancing at the road each time we past an exit. “Avoid the major paths.”

“We’ll have to cross the street, it runs the length of the harbor.”

I clenched my teeth hard enough that it hurt. “Fine, but you’re fucking dead if we get caught.”

He threw up his hands in surrender.

“I see the docks. ETA?” Luis asked.

“Fifteen minutes, tops.”

The sea cut into the continent more and more as we headed south, and soon I could hear the refreshing sounds of water. Frothy waves were crashing into the docks, the largest of them causing the dock workers to yell and retreat from the edges. I was also catching fewer glimpses of soldiers as we traveled, giving me the tiniest glimmer of hope that my captives weren’t fucking me over.

In a few minutes we made a final turn towards the road. I took in a deep breath before stepping out, and looked both ways like I was a four year old. Other than one car that swerved around us and a couple of odd looks, no one seemed to give a shit about us.

I laughed out loud. I couldn’t help it, the idea that they’d missed their best chance to kill me was insane. And after all the fear I’d had to cross that road, I could have just given into instinct and probably been fine. It was too fucking ironic to accept. My goon escort looked at me like I was mad as we trekked further towards the sea.

This far south the docks were scrappy, with every lift and vehicle carrying a different brand name. The ship on pier sixteen was actually half sunk and was getting torn apart by workers crawling over the hull. Tugboats carrying piles of scrap metal were traveling to and from the wreck, delivering it somewhere I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Luis, we’re almost there.” I said.

I spotted him trolling slowly towards us, mindful of the boats around him. The one he’d chosen was a fiberglass number like the kind middle-class white people like to buy. It was maybe a bit too obvious compared to the average, but no one had given him trouble so far. Luis himself looked tired. Unhurt, but like he hadn’t slept for ten days instead of just one. I forced my party down the stairs to the dock itself and waved him in.

“So, you just gonna let us go?” The leader asked with a bit of sarcasm in his tone.

“Yep. Killing you would attract too much attention. Congrats, you got lucky.”

A nearby dockworker overheard me and ran off, but not before he tripped over his own feet. I watched without real interest, knowing that he couldn’t get help in time to stop us.

“You look like shit.” Luis said.

“Feels worse, trust me.” I said, putting the pin back in the grenade.

I grabbed my rifle from the goon who had been holding it while the boat pulled up alongside the dock. None of them moved as I jumped in and Luis reversed out to sea. Once we were out of their line of sight I let myself stumble into a chair. My rifle clattered to the ground and I made no move to pick it up.

And all at once the real loss of the day hit me.

Luis didn’t say a word. John was dead. Fucking dead. We fucked up the job, and John was dead. We’d lost our expensive gun, and John was dead. Every bit of pain was showing up full force with my adrenaline fading, and I didn’t give a shit about any of it. Because in a few weeks I’d be healed, and John would still be dead.

The salt spray from the heavy waves got weaker as we went further out from the port. I leaned back with my face to the sky and let it wash over my face, clearing away the blood and grit. The best part about the water was that it meant I couldn’t know if my eyes held tears.

“Why’s this shit gotta suck so much?” I asked. Luis stayed silent. “I mean, fuck, we didn’t start this shit in the first place. Sure we roughed ‘em up some, but we ain’t ever killed none of ‘em before they attacked us. Why are we getting fucked just for trying to break even?”

“Why do I even care? He was just some angry nigga who’d been a gangster his whole life. No one else will miss him. Why should I?”

I leaned forward and wiped the saltwater off of my face. What the fuck was I supposed to do next? If the four of us couldn’t do it, there was no way Luis, Cambria, and I were gonna finish off all our enemies alone. What was left? Did we have to go back to the states and abandon the city altogether? Would the people who’d protected our house even let us?

“I don’t know what to do, Luis.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Luis said.

We traveled some unknown distance away from the port before Luis shut off the engine. I checked my phone to find sixteen texts from Cambria and set about updating her on the situation. It only took one hundred and forty four words.

The boat bobbed on the waves and traveled with the wind, yet the isolation of it all felt comfortable. I gave myself a moment to imagine never going back. The fantasy of staying adrift at sea forever was almost terrifyingly appealing. Still, even if I chose to abandon our revenge and leave forever, someday I would have to own up to my failure.

“John’s dead.” I said.

Luis hummed an acknowledgment. I let us sit for another twenty minutes before telling him to turn the boat on, setting a course back to the city.

By the time we arrived the tank was nearly empty. Luis beached the boat on the rocky shores south of of the harbor and we made the trek to a road by foot. Once there it was simple to flag down a taxi and get a lift back to the ghettos.

“How the hell did you make it out of there?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I ran like a pussy. Circled around the top of the hill and came down behind the mountain, next to the ocean. Most of the stuff around there was unmanned, like waste runoff ducts and shit. Since they didn’t get close enough to see me I just walked up to a dock and took a boat. No one gave a shit cuz I looked like I knew what I was doing.”

“I just can’t believe you survived.” I said.

“To be honest, I can’t either.” Luis said with a weak smile. It left his face almost as quickly as it had come, and we spent the rest of the trip in silence.

The ghettos were dark and quiet like they had been ever since the attack on our house. Luis and I stepped out early and walked the last three blocks for no reason other than that we wanted to. I lingered outside even when Luis stepped into the house and stared at the houses across from us. Were they watching us now? Was everything we did getting reported to someone else? Seeing nothing, I gave up and went inside.

Cambria’s face was red and marked with the lines of tears, but she wasn’t crying any more. I nodded to her and went to the fridge to grab a beer before pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down. In our own way, we each tried to delay the inevitable conversation.

As I’d expected, Cambria spoke first. “Some of those cuts look bad, Damian. Luis, can you teach me how to bandage him up?”

“Sure.” Luis said, and he went to fetch the first aid kid.

At first they didn’t say much. Luis showed her ways to bandage different body parts and made sure that she sprayed hydrogen peroxide in every wound. It stung like a bee, but I toughed it out knowing that the morphine would kick in soon.

“Why are you still here?” Luis asked.

Cambria flinched like she was shocked by the question.

“I mean, there’s no reason for you to be here. Why don’t you go home and find your brother?” He asked.

“Do you still not trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone I don’t understand. Damian? I get him. I don’t get you at all.”

“Do you honestly think you could put it all behind you? Are you capable of giving up crime and acting like a normal person, with everything you’ve seen and done here?” She asked him.

Luis mulled it over for a bit. “I get what you’re trying to say, but it still doesn’t answer my question.”

“I can’t give you the answer you want. There isn’t some solid, logical reason for why I’m doing this. It just feels like something I should do.”

I winced when she cleaned a particularly large and dirty wound on my abdomen, and she pulled away. I nodded for her to continue and tried not to cringe when she put a dressing on it.

“There’s gotta be more to it than that.” Luis pressed.

“There is, but it needs a long explanation and you still wouldn’t like the answer. Just trust me when I say that I’m with you until this over.” She made a point to meet his eyes, her expression calm. Luis didn’t have anything to say in reply.

I had so many bandages on my body that I started to look like a mummy. Thankfully, only my re-injured shoulder and the gash on my right calf were of any concern. I wouldn’t be running for distance any time soon.

“Think we got everything?” Cambria asked.

“Looks like it.” Luis said.

“Your turn.”

She pulled off Luis’s shirt and set to work checking him for injuries. He was much better off than me with only a couple minor scrapes that didn’t need bandages. I finished my drink and went for another one when she took his pants off.

“So you guys are both in to keep going?” I asked.

“Sure, just not the way we have been. We’ve thrown ourselves at The Gray for a week straight and it’s gotten harder every time. We need something new.” Luis said.

I nodded. “We need to lay low for a while. We’ll figure something out together, something safer and cleaner.”

“Good.” Cambria said. “That gives you time to teach me more about this city and how to beat it.”

Luis pulled up his pants while he spoke. “What kind of stuff do you wanna know?”

“Everything. Shooting, inter-group relations, drug markets. I’m going to need to know it all if I’m going to be useful.”

I tapped my foot as I thought it over. “We’re not really the ones to teach you about anything other than killing. It’s all we were trained to do.”

“But you’re familiar with underground business, and we need to start making money as soon as possible. Not tonight, though. Tonight we’re going to sleep and do our best to put today behind us.”

It was a command, and for once I appreciated her stepping up. We went to our rooms and I stripped out of my clothes for sleep. I laid down in bed and closed my eyes only to find that sleep wouldn’t come. The devils keeping me awake weren’t even complete thoughts, which only made it worse. If I was facing demons of John’s death or fears of the future, at least I could work though them. What I got were dozens of scattered concepts I couldn’t fully understand. A fleeting pit of heavy fear in my legs, the smell of rotting fish from the harbor, each sense came and went in seconds.

I sat up with a growl and shook my head. The little feelings vanished as soon as my eyes opened, but I could sense them waiting to come back the second I tried to sleep again. I got dressed out of frustration and walked outside, hoping to clear my head with a cigarette.

When the cigarette didn’t help I started walking. I didn’t really have anywhere in mind, I just needed to be somewhere else. In a few minutes I found a main road and watched the cars pass me by. A taxi came through and I flagged it down without really thinking about the action.

“Where to?” The driver asked me.

“Violet’s?” I asked, not sure if he knew the name. He did, though, and we pulled into the lane and started off.

I paid the man and walked the curb. The neon sign that marked the place as Violet’s glared red in the darkness and cast my outline on the street as I walked to the door. I pushed the door open and entered the bar, giving the place a once over. The largely male crowd stood at tables and at the counter holding weak conversations. Mostly their attention was on the topless waitresses who carried the drinks and curtsied at the men who looked like they were wealthy.

I leaned on the bar and waited, eying down the girls as they passed. They’d catch my glance and return it, and for the most part I looked away. Too tall, not enough ass, Asian. I rejected them for a dozen stupid reasons before finding one that I liked.

One girl seized my attention and didn’t let go. She was a Latina, a minority race for Kismal. Her olive skin took on the glow of the lights in a way that outlined her features, drawing smooth curves down her body. She was wearing only a short skirt and tank top that seemed out of place among the other girls who were dressed in lingerie or nothing. It wasn’t a modest outfit even by comparison, but it served to help her stand out from the others.

When her eyes found mine I tilted my head, keeping her attention locked on me. She had a drink in her hand, and moved to pass it off before walking up in front of me.

“Why the glare? A man as beautiful as you deserves to look happy.” She said, leaning in to put her hands on my chest. She spoke clear English, but with an accent that suggested she was a local.

“It’s been a bad day.” I said.

Others who had been staring at the girl began to look away, knowing that I was her mark. They’d flag down a different girl who either wanted to have them or they could afford. That’s what I liked about Violet’s. The idea of fucking a sex slave who didn’t want it held no value to me. Everyone at Violet’s was there by choice, which made it a hunt rather than just a sale.

“Oh no.” She pouted, biting her lower lip as she ran her hands over my body. “I’ll just have to make your night a good one, then.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. I felt a thrill at the jealous expressions of those who saw us pass. She was hot and she was mine, if only for the night. In watching the way her hips rolled as she walked I was able to ignore my troubles. The Gray and John’s death stopped mattering when I was following a sexy girl off the floor and up stairs to the private rooms.

Her room glowed with a gentle blue light and featured only a room and one piece of furniture. White satin curtains that matched the sheets covered a window meant for those who liked to put on a show. I shut the door behind us and turned to find her pulling the straps on her tank top. Her crossed arms were the only thing stopping it from falling down.

She looked up at me with a coy smile. “You can set your things on the end table.”

What she wanted to see was the money, but I had to admit that I’d never been asked like that before. I pulled a wad of cash in US dollars and dropped them on the table by the bed. She bit her lip again, more at the money than me. With a jerk I grabbed her arm and pulled her into me, holding her on her tip toes to give me a kiss.

There wasn’t any spark or affection in the kiss, only my unexpectedly strong desire. Shit, John had been right. It had been a really long time to go without getting laid. I moved my hands down her back and onto her ass, lifting up her skirt to feel the bare skin beneath.

“All business, huh?” She asked in a breathy tone.

“It’s simpler.” I said.

She pressed her body against me and whispered into my ear. “It is. I’ve got something you want, you’ve got something I want. Why make things harder than that?”

To me, her words sounded like heaven. For a brief moment I put reality behind me, and after another empty kiss I led her to the bed.

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Chapter Fourteen

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I grimaced as the sun started to rise above the horizon and turn the unbroken darkness into towering shadows. If the reporters were at all accurate, the seas would soon be thick and violent and the winds would be gusting to thirty miles an hour. I hoped that the weather wouldn’t make our new grenade launcher useless.

“Whelp.” John said, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. “You boys ready to get started?”

The radio remained silent and John groaned in irritation. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started to call Luis, hoping the vibration would be enough to wake him up.

“Huh, what? We ready?” Luis’s voice came out clearly over the radio.

“You sure you’re up to this?” John asked him.

“How hard can it be? Point and shoot, just like any other gun.”

John sighed without opening the channel.

“I’m good.” I said.

“Alright, we’re gonna head out.” John said to both of us.

“Roger. I’ve got clear shots on their Barracks and the path you’re gonna take. Should be an easy job.”

“Easy, right.” I said.

We took the time to do one last check over everything. I’d given my rifle a full clean and polish twice during the night, which probably wasn’t necessary in the first place. Still, I cycled the bolt a couple times before chambering a round and switching my safety on. I nodded to John and then climbed back into the passenger seat.

The docks themselves were quiet that morning, which was typical. The obviously illegal activities done under the cover of darkness got packed away at sunrise, replaced with the shipping and receiving of the legitimate goods used to keep the city afloat. Of course, black market goods were still trafficked during broad daylight. It’s just that the dock officers were smart enough not to let it show on satellite imagery.

“Swear to God, the last time I have to drive out here will be the best day of my life.” John said as we passed through the gate.

As usual we drew looks from the entrance guards. Two police officers stopped chatting with some dock officials to give us a glance before turning away and ignoring us. I took the time to flip them off while they had their backs turned.

Maybe two hundred feet into the compound we passed a merc from The Gray standing on a corner. I saw him pick up a radio of his own and start talking to someone, looking in our direction but not quite at us. John took the corner without realizing we were being watched.

“Hey John, pretty sure that merc just recognized us.” I said, feeling a surge of ice through my veins. John turned on the radio to talk to Luis.

“See anything funny?” John asked the radio.

Before Luis could respond several things happened at once. Two people wearing outfits I didn’t recognize charged out of a building in front of us, each one hefting an assault rifle. Over John’s shoulder I could see the merc with the radio toss a grenade at us using his free hand. The baseball-sized projectile landed behind us and detonated just as the two in front opened fire.

“Fuck!” John had time to roar as he threw the wheel to the right. The motion brought me out of the line of fire, and put him in it.

The grenade exploded close enough to lift up our back tires. Luis’s reply was drowned out in the storm of gunfire that shredded the hood of the car and shattered the windshield. Several bullets whizzed past my head while even more slammed into John’s body, impacting in his arms and chest.

I pulled out my pistol, but a jerk of the car threw off my aim before I could even fire. There wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do to stop John from taking a round through the throat. His eyes went wide and blood welled up from his carotids, causing him to make a gasping, gurgling sound. John’s whole body went slack, his arms falling from the steering while while his head slumped to one side.

Our car sped up and our turn continued until we were angled into an alleyway. The airbags activated as we crashed into the corner of the next building, and my head slammed against it before bouncing back against my seat.

The impact stunned me completely. I could hear Luis’s voice as soon as the gunfire stopped, frantic and pleading. My muscles knew what I wanted to do. I could feel the fact of it, the way they twitched in the areas that should have set me into motion, but they just wouldn’t work together.

There was a grinding of gears as the engine finally killed itself, followed by hissing sounds as the tires and radiator started to leak.

“Damian! John! Are you guys fucking alive!? Pick up the damn radio!” Luis’s ragged voice prompted.

Pick up the radio. Such a simple task. With a lurch I turned my whole upper body to face John. I couldn’t see the mercs approaching, but I could only assume that they were. Ignoring the rest of me, I was able to use my right hand to pull the radio out of John’s vest. I brought it to my lips.

“Luis.” I said.

“Oh Jesus fuck Damian. Get the hell out of here!” He was screaming too fucking close to my face. I groaned and pushed myself up as my body started to work again. Through my haze of pain and shock I managed to open the door and fall out into the alley.

Whumph! The grenade launcher bellowed from the hillside. The detonation was somewhere off in the distance, too far away to matter. I turned back to the car, having enough presence to remember to grab my rifle.

John’s throat only lightly trickled red because his heart had stopped pumping. More holes riddled his front and leaked fluids of multiple colors all over the upholstery. Something panged in my brain, the beginnings of empathy and remorse, but I was too fucked for it to hit me. I picked my rifle and pistol off the floor and began to stumble away.

“OK, OK, I think I’ve figured this out now.” As Luis finished speaking three more shells exploded, these ones much closer than before. Screams of pain and chunks of concrete bounced off the alley walls and in my general direction.

Each step brought a little more function back to my body, along with a little bit more pain. My right leg burned where a part of the car had crushed up against my calf and cut into my skin, and the injury in my left shoulder was hurting again for the first time in days. I wiped at my face to stop the blood from dripping into my eyes, praying that it wouldn’t make a convenient trail to follow.

“Damian, I need you to talk to me man. Is John ok?”

I put the radio to my mouth and used my other arm to brace against the wall, limping towards the end of the row. “No, he’s dead. Tell me how to get out of here, Luis.”

“I can’t fucking see you, how far are you down that alley?”

“Almost to the end.”

“Take the first left and I should be able to see you.”

Ignoring the voices sounding off around me, I followed his direction. I rounded the corner and looked south, the opposite direction that I was heading. From where I was standing I could see the enormous muzzle flash of the grenade launcher as it fired two more times. The explosions were close this time, and I covered my ears to protect my hearing.

“They aren’t following you now. You need to fucking hurry, they’re taking shots at the hill already. I won’t be able to help you for long.”

“Where do I need to go, Luis?” I asked. I looked around trying to get oriented to the world, but failed. The cardinal directions came fine, but the relationships between places were beyond my reach.

“I’m thinking… Jesus fucking Christ.” Luis said, and I could hear the ricochet of bullets close to his position. “For now take a right. There’s too many people by the entrance, and more mercs are rolling in from that direction.”

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me. “On it.”

Twenty four steps to the next corner, then a turn. I was still stuck between the backs of the port’s buildings, but this time they were business structures instead of warehouses. Giant glass windows towered over me on both sides, and a sky bridge crossed over the alley to connect the buildings ahead. The sheer number of spots I could be ambushed from terrified me. In an instant the only thing I could think about was getting out of the line of sight.

Goons carrying SMGs and shotguns stumbled around a corner ahead of me. I grimaced against the pain and brought my rifle to my shoulder, dropping the radio in the process. Four bursts sent them scrambling away and back behind cover, giving me time to bend over and pick it up again.

“Enemies ahead, I’m going indoors.” I said.

“I’ve gotta fucking bail, dude. I can’t take the gun with me, those bastards are climbing the hill already. I’m gonna stay on the radio. I’ll figure something out, OK?”

Don’t leave me alone, please. “Alright, good luck.”

Luis opened fire one more time, emptying the entire belt of grenades. Detonations rang from all over the port and panicked cries rose up in response. As soon as it was over, it seemed like everyone in the area returned fire. For a moment there was so much noise that it hurt my ears, and then it ended with unexpected finality.

Fuck! I looked around, trying to decide which building to enter. The ones with the glass windows probably led to open areas that had people in them. I jogged to a fire escape that led to a set of subtle metal doors and ran up to the second floor, causing the whole frame to rattle with every step. The hallway I entered ran along the back of the building, ending in a janitorial closet that smelled like stagnant water and rotting garbage.

I paused and leaned against the wall, slipping a little before I caught myself. My panting carried down the hallway despite my attempts to calm my breathing. I wished I’d had the foresight to bring some of the Morphine with me, given the way my whole body throbbed as I inhaled. With the way I ached and bled, I decided to check for life threatening problems. There was no point in struggling if I was going to bleed out anyway.

No, none of it was going to kill me. By some miracle I didn’t even have injuries in half the places that hurt. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to figure out some way to make it out of the port alive.

I couldn’t wait it out. Soon enough they’d bring in a specialist or two, people who hunt men for a living. Even if I stopped leaving a trail, I had no doubt they’d find me. That left three possible ways to escape: the hills to the south, the harbor to the west, or the entrance to the east.

The harbor wasn’t an option, I’d be too obvious if I tried to swim for it. The east end was fenced off for hundreds of feet at a time, and the roads in and out were watched by default. That left only the southern hills, which was annoying because I’d already traveled a few blocks north. Still, it seemed like the best option I had.

I followed the hallway until it opened into a set of cubicles that seemed to span an entire floor of the building. After finding nothing useful at the first desk I started to find my way to a stair, realizing that the place had long ago been cleaned out. The first floor was mostly the same, except for the row of windows that faced the road outside. I ducked behind the dividers and listened for lulls in the foot traffic to find the best times to sneak out towards the east side of the building.

A door screeched open and froze me in place. Multiple sets of footsteps clacked on the floor, and all I could think about was how many ways the situation could go wrong. I didn’t have Luis’s silenced pistol, for one thing. That meant I couldn’t just take them out quickly and run away. Worse still, if Luis tried to radio me they’d know my position immediately.

“Tawsin has four more coming in tonight. If Los Zetas does not catch us we will be wealthy men.” Said a voice in Krio, continuing a conversation they’d started outside.

“No one wants your Japanese cars when the Italians make ones that are more fancy and better.” Grumbled another.

If they were talking about cars the conversation was useless to me. Still, it helped me figure out where they were so I kept listening. I used my arms to pin my holsters and knife against my body, reducing the sound slightly as I moved.

“Fuck you. I will not make you buy in, but you will be sorry you didn’t.”

“You are an idiot, telling a group of people that you do not know about what you are trying to hide from Los Zetas.”

“I trust everyone here to keep my secret.” It almost sounded like a question, but no one responded to him. “You must buy in, this is nearly four billion Leone we are talking about. You can have a third of it.”

I stopped at the far wall and peeked around the corner. They’d left the door open, and harsh sunlight spilled into the room from the outside. There wasn’t anyone between me and the door that I could see, so I started creeping up towards it without any real plan.

“You are stealing from the highest powers in the land. I will not help you, and you should stop asking me before you make me your enemy, too.” The reply was a delivered as sharply as a knife stroke, and made it clear that no reply was welcome.

All of the Krio was hurting my brain, making me thankful that I’d arrived at the door. I took in a sharp breath and crouch-ran out into the daylight with only a small rattling of gear. As soon as I’d gotten outside I stood up straight and listened for signs that they’d noticed me. By the sound of things they had, as they shifted position and asked each other what the noise had been. Lucky for me they chose to ignore it by pretending something had fallen on the floor.

The road to the north was being traveled, but even the ones that glanced my way didn’t recognize me. My left side was largely free of cuts and bruises, so I figured I’d be safe as long as that was all anyone could see. I decided to head south and see if I couldn’t take the direct route to the hills.

“Luis?” I whispered into the radio.

“Sup?” He asked, coughing before the channel closed again.

“You alright?”

“For now, sure. I can hear ‘em crawling all over, though.”

“Where the hell are you?” I arrived at a fork in the path and tried to turn east, but there were unfamiliar mercs walking down the lane. As subtly as I could manage I spun around to head the opposite direction. That got their attention, and they started walking faster to try and catch me.

“In some drain they’re using to dump waste into the ocean. It’s fucking gross in here.” He gave one of those wet coughs that normally came from sick people.

“Hold on.” I said, and put the radio away.

They weren’t calling out for me to stop, which meant they didn’t really know who I was. Still, they were walking faster than me. If I tried to speed up even more, I’d become suspicious instead of just a curiosity. With only seconds until they reached me, I opened a back door to my right and stepped into yet another building.

This time it was a small machine shop in the process of being shut down. A dozen benches with tools I didn’t recognize held up plates of worked metal, and two scrawny dudes were scrambling around among them. They had a trailer lashed to the back of a four-wheeler and were filling it with the works they felt were most valuable. I got myself together and stood up straight, looking around like I owned the place.

“The fuck are you doing here?” One of them yelled out in English.

“Looking for the bastard that’s shooting up the docks.” I yelled back, picking up my pace and walking with purpose through the rows of machines.

Not a second later the door opened behind me and three mercs spilled in. I slowed my pace and glowered at them, which was probably confusing given the way I was bleeding lightly from cuts all over my body.

“Who do you work for?” The laborer asked.

Fuck me. Without responding I lifted my rifle to my shoulder and flipped to fully automatic. The mercs saw the motion and panicked, trying to draw as well. I was quicker, and had better aim. The room boomed with every shot as I put four or five bullets into each of them in under a second.

Instead of just running out the open garage door before I could gun them down, the shop workers tried to escape on the four wheeler. One of them got up to drive while the other threw himself into the trailer of metal pieces. He hefted one in an attempt to use it as some kind of shield. I killed the driver before he could even start the engine, and then pelted the one in the trailer with bullets. My jacketed rounds ignored the obstacle and punched through his face, blowing out the back of his skull and sending bits of brain and bone raining onto the floor.

“Pretty sure I just blew my cover.” I said to the microphone.

“Naw, really? I can hear their war cries from here. Gonna use the cover to try and escape. Good luck.”

I nodded to myself, acknowledging that he had nothing to offer me. Making a split second decision, I left through the door I’d entered and found no one in the back alley. I cut west again without any real idea of where people would be coming from. In seconds I could hear people entering the machine shop and yelling about the scene, worried more about the mess than the loss of human life.

More goons entered the alley and I was forced to take the first right. Each turn was bringing me dangerously close to a major road, and I wasn’t yet sure how I’d tackle that problem. Thinking about it nearly got me killed as bullets crossed right in front of my face, fired from down and adjoined walking path. On instinct I let my legs continue forward and simply let my upper body drop, falling in a heap on my back.

“We found him!” Yelled a voice. All around me people started running, a herd of charging bulls sent just for my sake.

My hands shook as I fished a grenade out of my vest. I tossed it down the alley towards the goons who had shot and me and was rewarded with an “fucking shit” and the sound of people crushing themselves against a sheet metal wall.

“You’re going to need to get me out of this, Luis.” I said, pushing forward again. Six goons appeared in front of me so I went left, heading south again. In seconds they were behind me and firing over my shoulder. I dropped behind a garbage can that wasn’t thick enough to block any of the rounds, and instead crawled on my hands and knees to take another right.

“Fuck shit fuck shit.” I muttered as I crawled up the wall to my feet. There was only one more set of walking paths before the road, and I was about to get cut off to the east. My brain fuzzed over every time I tried to think of a solution. Every twinge of frustration only made it worse, forcing me to feel possible solutions as they slipped my mind before I could finish them.

I threw myself into a run because I didn’t know what else to do. All I could feel was the overwhelming, basic urge to avoid being roped in like an animal. I was hardly paying attention to where I was going and stumbled every few steps because of it.

The goons stepped onto the path behind me and began to take aim. I leapt into the next path and immediately dug in my heels to skid to a stop. The alley gaped open at the end and spilled out onto the road. I decided in a second that I’d never in my life seen anything uglier than that tempting, open space. Every animal urge told me that there weren’t people out there, that I should throw myself into a sprint again and dash across before anyone figured it out. But I could hear them up and down the street, organizing and sounding off. By then there were probably even vehicles with mounted machine guns guarding the way.

Without any other options, I tried the nearest side door. The handle turned but the lock held it shut. I slammed into it with my left shoulder and was rewarded with a snapping sound as my tendon flew out of place again. The pain came a second later, a crushing wave that made me grit my teeth and blink back tears.

I brought my rifle to my shoulder and fired at the lock. My hazy vision made it hard to see, but ten bullets in I found the right mechanism and caused the door to swing free. I let my injured left arm hang and stepped inside. Stacks of papers sat in neat piles on pristine, glass desks that made me think it was some kind of administrative building. Given any more time I’d have shot the place up just to spite whoever owned it, but I was too close to danger for that kind of fun.

“Luis?” I had to sling my rifle over my shoulder to pick up the radio with my right hand.

“I got a boat, where are you?”

Hearing his voice helped me to relax a little. I wasn’t alone, Luis was going to save my ass. My head started to clear up slowly and my ability to think returned. I still had a chance, I wasn’t dead yet.

“Where the fuck did you-? Nevermind, I don’t have a clue where I am. Somewhere…” I thought back to the route I’d taken. “South west of where you last saw me. I can’t be too far from the ocean.”

“This place is like two fucking miles long. Help me out here.”

I pressed my back to the front wall and leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of some identifiable landmark. There wasn’t fuck all that I could see other than the generic warehouses and offices that dotted the port.

One of the goons kicked the door in. I’d forgotten they were following me, a potentially fatal mistake. I met his eyes as he turned towards me, and for a split second he gaped. I sucked in a breath, tensed myself, and charged.

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Chapter Twelve

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At first we assumed it had been Leonid and the Mafia who killed the gangbangers and arranged them on our lawn. We responded by getting all new cell phones and splitting up for two days. Luis, Cambria and Treven went to the slummiest hostel in all of Kismal to hide out while Alfredo, John, and I went somewhere much nicer. We figured that Leonid would come after us first since we were both more valuable and more obvious targets.

After two days with no action, we started reconsidering our ideas. Leonid had no good reason to help us out, even for the intimidation factor. He’d want his money back, and possibly want to swallow us up into his organization. Neither of those things had happened, which meant he probably had nothing to do with it.

We called everyone we could reasonably trust, and when they told us nothing valuable we called people we couldn’t. Not one of our contacts had any idea about a group that would help us without our permission and ask nothing in return. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it hardly mattered who it was. Almost any group was capable of splattering our brains on the pavement, why should I care who ended up doing the job? No, the gunfight on our doorstep was a sign of something else entirely. A cold, inevitable fact that had come much too soon for my comfort.

We were out of time.

Outside groups all the way up to the big three were starting to pay attention to the way we were operating. We had to move, and we had to move quickly before somebody finally found us. With that in mind we went back to the house, intending to come up with our next plan of action.

The rain hadn’t stopped once in the past seventeen hours. It kept fading to a drizzle that tricked people into going outside, only to resume its tropical downpour. I stepped out of the van to find the blood mostly washed off of the pavement but still clinging to the walls where the roof protected it like some kind of high-art mural.

The six of us got inside as quickly as we could, sticking to the concrete because the lawn was soaked and muddy. I spent a few minutes turning on light switches and checking rooms before rejoining the group in the kitchen.

“No one’s here.” I said.

“Whew.” Luis remarked. “For a moment I thought there might be Russians under the bed.”

For how big he talked, he looked out the window every couple seconds as if expecting something to happen. I didn’t call him on it, though, because I had demons of my own. Every few seconds I’d rethink my firing lines and go over the way the alleys stretched out behind the house, trying to think of the best possible escape route based on where I was currently standing. I’d been inside for all of two minutes and was already regretting leaving my gear in the van.

John had his own kind of tick, too. He stared straight ahead, not looking at anything, not giving any sign that he was actually paying attention. It was a good face, but he blinked and looked around when Treven reached into the fridge and tipped over a bottle. At least he wasn’t an angry bastard any more.

“Lets get our stuff unpacked.” Cambria said to Treven.

“But we just got here…”

“I know, and if we get it done now we won’t have to do it later. C’mon, lets go.” She said, and Treven sighed before getting out of his chair to follow.

The bags the rest of us had brought sat in a mixed pile. Alfredo pulled his out and started rummaging through it, grabbing some assorted drugs before retreating to his room.

“We’ve gotta send them away.” I said.

“You know what? I’ve been thinking the same damn thing.” John said.

“It was OK for a while, but now things couldn’t get scarier. They’re better off loose in the ghettos than with us, as long as we keep up the way we’ve been doing.”

Luis nodded. “Yeah, agreed. I thought we were doing right by them, but shit’s different now.”

“I think Hector can get us someone. I’ll call him in an hour or two.” John said.

“What if the girl won’t go?” Luis asked, to which John simply shrugged.

“I’m not going to turn down help, I just want to make sure the kid gets out of here. And Alfredo, since he’s a drugged up sack of shit.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and felt around until I found a pill. MS contin prescription was on the decline back in the states, which meant big pharma went to the third world to pawn the stuff for a fraction of what it costs in New Orleans. It was cheap and easy to get, perfect for my uses. I popped it in my mouth and swallowed it down.

Luis gave me a sideways glance before speaking again. “So… What’s the plan? We’ve gotta kill The Gray first, right? It’s not like we’re in any position to take down the Rooks.”

“Yep, The Gray goes first. Lets talk options. We can’t hire mercs of our own because there’s no perfect combination of insane and competent with the amount of money we have. Tricking someone into doing it for us isn’t likely either. Can we blow them up? Plastic explosive in the sewer lines?” I asked.

“We’d need a fuckton of bombs to do that. I’m talking ten times as many bombs than if we blew the place up from the inside.” John said.

“Yeah, but getting into the sewer would be way easier than walking into the building and saying ‘hey, got your delivery of explosive here. Just let me spread this around the building and then I’ll be out of here’” Luis said, putting on the whitest accent he could muster.

“How much explosive are we talking?” I asked John.

“Bombs aren’t my thing, but I don’t think it’s an option.”

“How about we put the explosives in a plane and then crash that plane into the building.” Luis said, fanning out a hand to represent a plane flying into the ground.

My first instinct was to call him a retard. I opened my mouth to do just that before closing it again. Yeah, it was a stupid idea, but we’d been surviving through off-the-wall ideas like it. I decided I’d hold my tongue.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” John said.

“Fuck you, no it’s not. They’ll never see it coming.” Luis said.

“Who’s gonna fly the plane? It ain’t gonna be me. And how the fuck are you gonna jump out in time and still be sure it’s gonna hit?”

Luis scratched the stubble on his chin, taking excessively long to think it over. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was a start, anyway.” I said. “Crazy or stupid might be just what we need.”

Luis idly drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter while we waited for someone to speak. Ideas kept entering my head and leaving just as quickly, shot down for a hundred different reasons.

“Alright, lets get crazy.” Luis said, slamming his hands on the table for emphasis. “You guys heard of the mark nineteen?”

I shook my head, but John spoke up. “That’s a grenade launcher, right?”

“Fully automatic grenade launcher. Range is over a mile, and if we set up on those hills north of the Pier we can shell out The Gray’s building without anyone being able to stop us.”

John and I looked at each other and shrugged in unison.

“Gun as big as that has to have an awfully big muzzle flash.” John said.

“So we climb the mountain during the night and attack during the day, just like we’ve been doing.” I said.

“Alright, say we’re actually going to do this. How would we…” John began.

We spent another hour poking holes in the plan and then filling them up with solutions. I don’t think any of us were truly happy with the final solution, but no one had a better idea. We would need to spend more time talking about it after we got the kid out of the city.

John called Hector and got in contact with a woman running a higher-end smuggling operation than the Yakuza goons from the docks. She specialized in not only moving people between countries, but setting them up with identities to let them join society. For one hundred and fifty thousand dollars she’d do transport for the kid plus extra services, including ensuring he didn’t get put into a home. That part was easy compared to the upcoming challenge of convincing Cambria he needed to be sent back.

I opted to be the one to talk to her since I didn’t trust Luis to do it, and John wasn’t big on the whole compassion thing. I found her curled up in a chair in her room, staring thoughtfully at something on her computer screen. It wasn’t an attractive pose, and a small part of me appreciated that fact.

“Yo, Cambria. We’ve got some shit to work out.” I said.

“I suppose we do.” She didn’t look up from her screen.

“We’re going to send Treven back to the states.” I said, attacking the problem head on.

She sighed and gently lifted her computer off her lap and onto the floor. Sitting up in the chair she put her elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

“Well, um, good.” I mumbled before finding myself again. “Hector’s put us in contact with somebody who can get him back on US shores with a new identity. She said she can fake it so it looks like he’s in someone else’s custody. That way he won’t have to go to a home. Is there anyone you trust enough to do that?”

“Honestly? No. But there are a few I’d trust not to kill him. He’s going to need years of therapy and lots of love and… ugh, nevermind.”

I cocked my head at her, not sure what to say. After a moment she looked up at me and recognized my confusion.

“I guess I just thought that we were relatively safe if we stayed out of the way. I thought I could work with you guys and get what I wanted without putting his life at risk. But they’re tracking us through the phones. There’s nowhere safe now.” She pulled out her new phone as she spoke, turning it over in her hands as though looking for bugs.

“You talk like you plan on staying.”

“I do.”

“Things are about to get a lot worse around here, and I’m not sure if they’ll get better. You sure you’re still in?”

She put her phone away and stood up, crossing in front of me to lean on the window sill. The rain was slowing again, falling so lightly that it was almost a mist.

“Do you think you’re going to survive this, Damian? Do you even intend to?” She asked.

“Yeah, I do. To both. I’m scared, too. Really fucking scared. I just don’t see how that means I should quit.”

“Good. I intend to live through this. As long as you don’t think the three of you are throwing yourselves into an open grave, I’ll be there. I have to be.”

Did she mean she had to for our sake, or for hers? I decided not to ask.

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Chapter Thirteen

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“So, uh, this is a good spot. There’s a grocery store over there.” Luis said, pointing at a small shop on the corner. “And I’m pretty sure people around here won’t knife you for coke money.”

Alfredo tilted his head in a sort-of nod as John pulled the car over. Those were the first words we’d spoken since leaving the house, and before that we pretty much only told him that he was getting the boot. What the fuck we were even supposed to say? He wasn’t a friend, and he’d only hung around so long because we forced him to. We bought out his car for ten thousand dollars, which was more than enough to get him back on his feet. A little bit harsh? Probably, but he was soon to be out of my hands.

He stepped out of the car, his feet sloshing in the puddles on the cracked sidewalk. With one hand still in the vehicle he turned back and stuck his head inside. An awkward silence followed where we waited for him to say something, but it didn’t look like it was gonna happen.

“You need something else?” John asked.

Alfredo twitched like he’d been cut. “No. Just wanted to say thanks.”

“The fuck you thanking us for?” Luis asked.

The burnout shook his head like he wasn’t even sure himself. After another moment he stepped out and shut the door. I shivered, feeling the silent pressure in the vehicle vanish in an instant.

“He’s gonna forget his shit…” John muttered, watching him take a couple steps away from us. Just as John switched the car into drive, Alfredo jumped in place and turned, jogging back and popping the trunk. That done he set off again, disappearing into the winding maze that was downtown.

“Not a bad guy, fucking idiot though.” Luis said.

“Mhmmm” I agreed. “I wonder if he’ll do something productive or wind up in a den somewhere.”

John looked at me in the mirror and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know. A little optimism is good for the conscious, though?”

John grunted and pulled away from the curb.

“So, which places are we hitting? I don’t have a damn clue where to go for guns around here. Normally Fourth Street would just buy me what I wanted.” Luis said.

“We’re trying to find a very expensive, narrowly used grenade launcher without going to a big gang. Do you honestly think we can just window shop for a mark nineteen?” John asked.

“Guess not. So you called someone?”

“Six places. Last guy told us about a group who’s got a couple. We’re headed to a meet.”

Luis threw himself upright and turned his whole body to face John in the same motion. “Woah, holy fuck, we’re going to this meet right now?”

“You were there for the whole conversation, dickhead.” I said.

“Sure, but I was texting a chica at the time.”

“When the fuck did you find time to meet a girl? Actually, fuck it. I don’t care. It’s your fault for not paying attention in the first place.”

Luis slouched back down in his seat and crossed his arms. After a moment he started asking John for details on the seller that I didn’t care to hear a second time. I turned my focus to the city outside, using it as a way to ignore my personal problems.

The further we got away from downtown, the fewer cars joined us on the streets. At one point a cop and a fire truck wailed across the lane in front of us, responding to a plume of smoke that glowed yellow in the light of the street lamps. I counted three people getting hustled in one particular area of town, and couldn’t help but think that the city seemed to be getting louder, busier. It was like a blanket had been pulled off of the whole area, and the mask of sanity that Sierra Leone held was starting to fade away.

Maybe it was just because I was finally paying attention to it. During my time in Fourth Street I’d worked for people smarter than me who knew the biz and used me as a tool to own it. That meant I didn’t have to care about the politics or the gossip or the warning signs of change. I’d been OK with that, but there was something nice about my new independence, too. It wasn’t just being in control that felt good. For some reason I felt better working for my own interests than I had about working for the interests of others.

All of that said, I wasn’t excited for this. We pulled up in front of a boarded-up apartment building that was very obviously still occupied. Light poured out of the second and third floor windows despite the fact that some of them didn’t even have glass. The whole place gave me eerie flashbacks to shitty horror movies I’d watched as a teenager. I didn’t believe in monsters, but the feelings themselves were very real.

Two men stood by a side door, one with a cigarette hanging out of his slack-jawed mouth. They weren’t big, and best of all their pistols were holstered instead of in hand. We returned the favor by slinging our rifles on our backs.

“You John?” The one without the cig asked, his words slurred with an accent I couldn’t yet place.

“Yep.” John said.

“Got the money?”

“Sure do.” John said, holding out a handbag that was thick with bills. Cigarette guy looked in in the bag before nodding in approval.

“C’mon, downstairs.” British. It was a British accent.

The man flicked on a flashlight and stepped inside, swiveling around before finding his place. We followed the pair of them down a flight of stairs that cracked loudly under our weight.

“Poor motherfuckers live on the second floor up.” The Brit said. “There’s no power on the main floor to keep people hanging around. Works great as cover.”

The basement glowed with the rough, almost acidic light of old fluorescent bulbs. Two more gunmen lounged on a plaid couch while a third person, probably the salesman, leaned forward with his hands on a table. The weapon and two belts of grenades rested on top, polished to the point that the carbon fiber reinforced steel almost seemed to glow. Or maybe it just looked that way because I was excited. Either way, I can honestly say I’ve never seen a sexier gun in my life.

“Damn.” John said, so overcome that his fake badass aura faded away.

Luis whistled appreciatively, and I had to take a deep breath to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“You like?” The skinny fuck leaning on the table asked. He was dressed like a civilian, with ugly khaki shorts and a sweater. His hair was gelled up with a swoop at the front that made him look like a hippie, but I could overlook all of that if he was gonna hand us such a weapon.

“Yes we do.” John said. “How much you want for it?”

“Fifty thousand for the lot, but I feel the need to educate you in the interest of keeping you on as long term customers.” The hippie said, grinning to show off a set of perfectly white teeth.

“Shoot.”

“A man of few words, I like that. First of all, what are you planning on doing with this weapon?” The three of us visibly tensed at the question, and he reacted by continuing. “I’m not trying to pry, I only ask because there’s a disparity between what people expect out of exotic guns and what they actually do.”

John nodded.

“First, it goes without saying that a weapon this heavy cannot be fired from the hip. I’ve included a pedestal mount because that’s what people tend to prefer, which means you’ll have to set up a safe position before you can use it. The pedestal requires you sit behind the gun and grab the handles with both hands, like this.”

He got up on the table to straddle the gun from the back, showing us how the firing lever needed to be pressed. It looked a little bit less convenient than I’d hoped, but it would still get the job done.

“Second, the weapon fires nonstandard forty millimeter grenades. This means you can’t just buy normal reloads and go on your merry way. More importantly, it means this weapon is unsuitable for destroying armored vehicles or penetrating heavily reinforced positions.”

John gave me a sideways look, prompting me to ask a question. “How much material can it penetrate?”

“Depends on the material, of course. A few inches of metal at most. You might be able to knock down a brick wall with it, assuming it’s only one or two layers thick.” I noted that he didn’t press for more information, answering only the question I had asked. I appreciated the professionalism.

“Finally, a weapon like this is entirely illegal and, obviously, very ostentatious. I’d advise -”

Luis interrupted him. “Oss-ten-tashus?”

“Obvious, it’s an attention grabber. As soon as you start unloading on some poor bastard, anyone who’s seen or heard one of these babies in action is going to recognize it. The element of surprise will be gone after the first volley. And after that you’ll find yourself the most hated man in ten miles.”

“We’ll make due. Fifty thousand, you said?” John tossed the bag as he spoke, and his throw went wide. The hippie snatched it out of the air like he’d expected the miss and promptly handed it off to the Brit from earlier. The Brit started to count the money while the Hippie rambled on.

“The documentation is all included, of course, and you’ll want to look it over before you enter the field. Any further questions?”

“What’s your name?” John asked.

“I don’t like names very much, they’re dangerous in this kind of business. You can call Bob if you like, I truly don’t care. As for finding me again, which I’m assuming is why you asked the question, just ask around. If I have what you want someone will connect us.”

Bob was all smiles as we exchanged a few more words and then left. Luis experimented with different methods of lashing one hundred and fifty pounds of weapon and ammo to his back before settling on something that was tolerable. He wouldn’t be able to travel any distance in one go, but he had all night to make it up the mountain.

I climbed into the car and watched the city pass as we drove, trying to think about the future. Assuming everything worked out in our favor and we destroyed what was left of The Gray with no issues, we’d have a world of hurt on our heads. Between Leonid and whoever protected our house, there were more than enough powerful forces in play to snuff us. I couldn’t imagine what the next few days would look like, largely because I didn’t know if the phone watchers were friend or foe.

“Fuck this place.” I said aloud.

“I’m down with that.” Luis said. “I wouldn’t have to hike a mile up a hill with a cannon strapped to my back if I was still in New Orleans.”

“I wouldn’t have to put up with going two weeks without getting laid.” John added.

“You always know what’s important in life, John.” I said with a chuckle.

“Damn straight.” John said.

“Like a sewing machine.” Luis said.

“The fuck?” I asked.

“I’m imagining John getting some action after two weeks off, and I think he’d look a lot like a sewing machine. You know?”

I exploded into laughter, with a full-throated belly laugh so intense that it caught me off guard. Luis was quick to join in, and even John gave it his best attempt. It may have been a stupid fucking joke, but the act of laughing made me feel better than I had in a while.

“Oh man.” I said, relaxing slightly. “I can’t wait to see the looks on those bastard’s faces when we open with the mark nineteen.”

“Kind of funny, actually. Thinking about how far we’ve come.” Luis said.

“We’d never get the chance to use a gun like this while in Fourth Street. Shit, I remember that time Mud tried to sneak us a couple of AA twelves. I thought the bosses were going to disband the unit with their bullshit about image and rep.” I said.

We spent the rest of the drive talking about memories. My years in fourth street hadn’t been what I’d call good, but I didn’t regret the time spent there. Luis and John seemed to have similar thoughts, and knowing that made me feel a little more normal. The talking eased by mind enough that I was hardly anxious when we drove past the docks and up to the side of the mountain.

With a radio in hand Luis set up the hill, grunting obnoxiously until he thought we were out of earshot. John and I traded watches, trying to get at least a little bit of sleeping done between the two of us. Thirty minutes later I gave up, instead choosing to talk to John and try to steel myself for the day ahead.

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