The 2021 Readers Choice awards has been decided. 2
nd
place ain't bad. Thanks for the support.
Thanks again as always to Lastman for helping with editing.
-Titus Novak-
Saturday - May 8, 2021
Plans had to change. The original plan was to get all the cars into Canada and hand them off to a buyer there. It got too hot too fast and now I must improvise. The first truck got caught just outside of Scobey. Border and Customs were tipped off before they even got close. A few agents had been paid off, but from last I was told they got a pair of silver bracelets too.
Rather than wholesale, now I have to chop up the cars on the second truck and sell the parts. Still a good penny considering the value of the cars, but I'm taking a deep cut in pay for it. Can't complain seeing how this is the money I need to disappear. A few people I know outside of Seattle run a chop shop, and they owe me a few favors.
I can't believe how fast this fell apart. Lady Fucking Smith. Maybe once the temperature cools off in Montana, I can return the favor.
"Yo, T," I hear from behind me. I've been standing at the opening of the garage for hours, blankly looking out at the Seattle skyline in the distance. It's dark and the city is the only light in the sky. Not even stars or the moon. Behind me is Vance, an old member of the Legion who broke off years ago to set up his own franchise. I told him to rebrand and thankfully he listened. He wanted to keep the colors when he left, but I said to do his own thing. If not, he could have been rolled up with the rest of us for known affiliation.
"Otto just ran some numbers after we talked to a few buyers. Looking like four hundred thousand after they're over the fence. I'll cut you three-fifty of it," he offers. Way more than I would have started with.
"There's a lot of heat for these cars right now. Cut even for your troubles."
"I owe you, and you need the money to get out of dodge and lay low. If you still feel we're not square after, we'll figure it out once it blows over and the pigs don't care anymore."
Vance does owe me, but not that much. Loyalty is a form of currency. I know I can't talk him out of it, so gently punch his shoulder in gratitude.
"What the hell happened in Billings? Where's Terry?"
"Dead," I say, and he sighs while shaking his head. "The cops aren't the only ones looking for us. Not sure who, but someone came at us hard when we were getting the cars. I'm talking military grade lethal."
"Any other group down there got hitters like that? Bandidos?" Vance asks.
"I had a truce with the Bandidos going back years. I used to ride with them before forming my own shit. They were cool so long as we kept our dicks out of Missoula."
"I heard some California gangs were pressing on your turf. Maybe looking to seize an opportunity."
"I don't know, I didn't get a good look at the shooter. Barely got out of there as it was. They dropped three of my guys in seconds. I'm probably one of the only ones not dead or in cuffs."
We both jump when an explosion echoes down the street. It could have been a gunshot, so we immediately draw and make our way to the other side of the building where it originated. Vance is whispering for his guys to get weapons and get ready. Other guys start putting sheets up over the cars to hide the evidence in case of a raid. I check that my revolver is fully loaded and snap the cylinder back. Six shots at the ready.
I join him outside as he carefully leans out. The building is isolated and not connected to any local business. Publicly it's an auto repair shop with ten available bays, half of which are pitch black due to not being worked on. In truth it's a laundering front that makes a side hustle chopping cars taken from Seattle. '
Vance and Sons Auto Repair'.
Vance doesn't have a kid, but the perception it's a family-owned business makes more people trust it.
Parked in front of a local carpet warehouse across the street is a motorcycle that I don't remember being there. I can see the decal
IX
even from this distance. I hold off Vance from checking it out.
"Hold the phone," I say, and he turns to me. "That's one of my bikes."
"You didn't ride a bike here," Vance says, and exhales sharply. "What does that mean?"
Another explosion erupts near the motorcycle. I see a puff of smoke from behind a nearby car. Vance loses it and starts firing, and his men follow suit. The car is turned into Swiss cheese. All the windows shatter. The tires go flat. Sparks shine bright from ricochets off the car and anything nearby.
"Stop. Stop!" I scream at him. Vance drops a magazine and loads a fresh one. He orders his guys to check out the car. Three guys maneuver quickly and surround the car from two sides. They jump to the other side, and I can see them all look at the ground to something behind the car. One holds up a brown bag with a confused expression.
"It's an MRE bag," he shouts. Their attention is suddenly drawn to the car again. They aim down under the car, and I hear a faint sound. A melody you'd hear coming from a music box with a crank. I focus my hearing as one ducks down to find the source.
"Is that...pop goes the weasel?" Vance asks. The melody plays and I automatically sing it in my head.
'Pop! Goes the weasel"
BOOM! "Fuck!" Two of his guys are vapor and the third is thrown through the display windows of the business. The car is a torrent of flame with pieces of debris raining down like the embers of fireworks. All the glass in the immediate area is shattered, and several cars have alarms blaring.
Another explosion echoes from behind another car, but it's too quiet. I see the smoke again, but no fire or damage to the area. Distractions. They're trying to bait us to the front. I turn around and watch a woman step over a dead body coming up behind another man and slit his throat. She sees me see her and uses the body as a shield as I fire twice.
She throws the body to the ground and rolls behind a car as I miss one more time.
"Get out here you little fucking ninja!" Vance shouts. He's taken cover on the outside and is aiming in. I duck low to avoid his crossfire for a moment to flank her on the other side. The last of his two guys are coming from the other side of the shop. As I step around, I see her laying on a creeper cart. She kicks off a heavy tool set straight back and flattens herself out to slide under a car lifted on jacks. I fire and miss again. Vance is caught off guard and she hits him while aiming straight over herself. She quickly pivots and nearly hits me before I dive.
"Jesus," I grunt after hitting the ground. I kick the jack out from under the car so she can't do it again. I hear her footsteps scurry away and the impacts from bullets missing her as she vanishes again. "Vance!?"
"I'm hit," he stresses out. "Just the arm though. Who the fuck is this bitch?"
"Don't know, don't care. She's dead," I reply. His guy reaches me and is about to say something before his brains are blown into my face. I turn to aim in the darkness, looking for flashes. "Get some fucking lights on!"
Vance fires into the darkness, hoping to draw her fire, but she doesn't reply. This woman isn't an amateur. Three on one, but she knows she has the advantage. I crawl to the back side of the car and peek around the edge. All I can hear is Vance seething from his wound and his last man going for a switch. The lights burst on and I flinch from the sudden brightness. The last man is taking cover behind a lift with a car directly over him.
"Move!" I shout at him, and he peers over to me. "Move!"
Too late. The woman fires and hits part of the lift. It releases a hiss, and the car begins to slowly lower as the pressure is released. He merely steps out of the way and ducks behind the car. I guess she also thought the car would just fall straight down. I gesture to him to move with me toward the back.
"Vance, cover us," I say, and he confirms he's got it.
We start a slow approach and don't find her in the nearest bay. We keep moving, and I'm looking for any movement. Anything looks off or moves I'm firing at it. He steps around the back of a car and aims quickly to the other side. Nothing. The trunk suddenly shoots open. He turns but she grabs his arm, fires once into his chest, and then his head. I fire but she rolls out and rests against the other side of the car.
Vance had run up on her and is laying down heavy fire. She fires back and hits him, but he got her too. He dies on his feet, but his momentum throws him to the ground, and he slides a few feet on an oil slick. I curse to myself as I wait to see if the girl is dead.
I hear her grunt and crawl across the ground away from me. I look around the car and see a blood trail, but no girl. I follow it out the bay where she's limping away toward the fiery street. My bullet hits her square in the back, and she's propelled face first into the ground.
"Gotcha bitch," I say and exhale deeply as I lower my gun. The street is finally quiet. I look at the carnage she left behind, and slowly turn back to her. She's moving. She has a vest. "You shitting me?" Her hand comes next to her face, and she starts pushing herself up. "Will you just die." I aim and pull the trigger.
Click.
"Shit."
The woman puts her other hand down and is now off her chest. She pushes off the ground until she's on her knees. I search my pocket for extra bullets. She's on her feet as I find one bullet and start to load. The cylinder is crowded, and I'm trying clear it. I tip the shells out and try to load the round, but not all the brass came out and I try to load over a shell. "Fuck, fuck." I'm panicking while walking backwards. She draws a knife as I finally get the bullet in. I snap the cylinder shut, cock, and aim. She grabs my wrist and pushes it into the sky as I fire. Her knife slips in.
I look down at the guard of her blade and I barely feel it. Right under my chest, tilted slightly up. I suddenly feel deadly dizzy.
"Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," she says in a hushed voice. I can't reply, and gasp. My body wants to fall, but she's keeping me upright. I start to tip forward, and she brings me to my knees, slowly kneeling with me. "My father used to say that. Didn't know what he meant until now."
"Who are you?" I say, choking on blood. She pulls out her knife and pushes me back. I land on my shoulders, but my legs stay where they are. I'm folded over like a book bent over the binding.
"Tell them Alice sent you."
My body rolls over and I watch her limp away. The gun is still gripped in my hand, and against all logic, I cock the hammer, and fire. Cock, and fire. Cock, and fire.
Click. Click. Click.........
