Urban Justice (A Chicago Vigilantes Novel Book 2)

by India Kells

  “There’s more litter and trash here, and don’t forget that knife.”

  “It was rusted, Sloane. If they took that route, it was before we were born.”

  Sloane snorted. “There is not much trash in here so how do we find signs of a particular tunnel being used by them?”

  Luke had no idea either. So many people could find a way down here and leave traces that could mess with their search. Sloane bypassed him and went forward. He didn’t mind, sometimes you had to see for yourself and the woman was careful.

  Contrary to Eddie, she’d dressed for the task in military-style sturdy work boots and didn’t notice when she stepped in something unmentionable.

  The tunnel led them right, and the general smell was one of humidity, but with a strong undertone of metal and mud. There was more air in here, meaning there must be a vent nearby, if not another entrance allowing air to flow in.

  “This is fun. Is there another intersection coming up?”

  Luke grinned and was about to answer when a loud metallic thump resonated through their concrete surroundings. Sloane stopped and checked around with her flashlight before looking at him. It could be anything, so he gestured to Sloane to turn off her light and he lowered his beam to keep a sense of their surroundings without broadcasting their presence.

  Casting the beam low, Luke flashed it about six feet in front of Sloane, who remained ahead of him. After silently telling him that she’d keep going, he saw her remove her gun from under her coat. He had one in the small of his back, and he hitched his clothing to make sure he could react quickly if needed. His instincts roared at him to pull her back to a safer position behind him, but he was certain Sloane would kick him in the balls if he did, and after all, she was supposed to be capable of handling herself.

  The two of them advanced as silently as possible, and if Luke was right, they’d soon arrive at an exit at the end of the tunnel.

  They didn’t hear any further noise until they saw a ray of light beckoning them twenty feet over. It was streaming from above, indicating the end of the passage. Sloane lowered her gun and relaxed. “If the sound came from in here, it came from another location, or the person is long gone. Agreed?”

  Luke was about to suggest returning to the intersection when a shadow moved to their right.

  “Could you two shut the hell up?”

  Everything happened so fast Luke didn’t have a chance to react. Sloane reacted and was about to fire at the raspy male voice. When the light flashed over the form Luke shouted a warning. “Stop! Stand down.”

  Despite having been a second from being shot in the head, the homeless man didn’t blink and grumbled some more. “Get out of here! I’m trying to sleep, you morons.”

  One look at Sloane told Luke that he hadn’t been the only one whose heart almost burst out of his chest due to adrenaline overdose. However, her gun was no longer in sight, meaning that the hobo would live another day. It was difficult to tell if Luke had seen him before. Vagrants and homeless people, even runaways, were a common occurrence here. Usually, they were way more visible, often having lights and candles in the area they occupied or lived in. During his explorations, he seldom interacted with them, used to seeing them as external to what he was doing, as silent witnesses. That realization gave him an idea.

  “Hey, sorry to bother you. I’m Luke.”

  He offered his hand, but the old man frowned. In the more intense light, it was clear that the poor soul wasn’t young and hadn’t seen a shower in a long time. His beard should’ve been gray but was a filthy brown. His skin was like worn leather, but under the dark, knitted cap were a pair of sharp and aware onyx colored eyes.

  Luke took back his hand. “I don’t want to bother you. I just need information.”

  The man huffed. “And I want peace, boy.” He peeked at Sloane and frowned even more. “So you and your lady friend need to leave. A woman has no business coming down here.”

  He didn’t have to look at Sloane to confirm her hackles were up, but he didn’t want to miss his chance with the homeless man by being distracted. “Yeah, well, that can’t be helped for now. I just want to know if you’ve seen strangers invading your territory lately but not the usual crowd.”

  “Are you a cop, son? Because I’m not helping these kinds of people no more.”

  Sloane cursed but didn’t say a word.

  “We’re not cops, but we are after some bad guys.”

  “According to you people, there’s a bunch of us considered exactly that.”

  Luke didn’t want to give too much information away, just enough to convince him to trust them. “The people we’re after are the worst kind of humans. You have the right to live your life whatever way you want. You’re not hurting anybody here. They are.”

  The man coughed a little, but Luke was being honest. Homelessness was an issue much more complex that needed to be addressed, but not by the police. Drug traffickers were an entirely different type of animal.

  “I hear stuff, rumors. The tunnels are becoming busier. Never a good thing, especially as winter is coming. There aren’t many places in the city where you can get away from the wind.”

  Luke reached in his pocket and retrieved some cash, handing it to the man.

  “Are you trying to buy me, son?”

  “No, sir, all I want is information. It’s payment for a service if you will. I know you could use the money, and if the information is helpful, there could be more.”

  Expecting greed, Luke still saw doubt in his eyes.

  “Dangerous guys going through the tunnels, you say? That’s bad. There are kids taking refuge there, good kids. Some are in trouble and they need a safe place.” His eyes went to the bills before lifting to his face. “If you’re playing with me, son...”

  “I swear, I’m not. Take the money as a show of good faith. If you hear or see anything, let me know. I’ll leave you my number.”

  Luke scrambled to find a piece of paper and pen, writing his number before wrapping it with the money.

  The old man took it after a slight hesitation. “I’m Quincy, by the way.”

  Luke took Quincy’s outstretched hand to shake it. “Thank you, Quincy. Stay safe.”

  “You too, son. Ma’am.”

  There was a slight disgust in his tone when he referred to Sloane, but before she could snap back, Luke took her arm and pulled her back in the direction they came from.

  “You know he’ll never call you back, and if he does call, I doubt that anything he says will be useful.”

  No surprise that Sloane would say that. As a cop, Quincy would’ve been reported as causing problems.

  “Maybe, but if he decides to help, he may work way better than any camera. We have to be logical. The two of us can’t canvas every tunnel efficiently, not without spending a lot of time down here. We don’t know when the traffickers are using the tunnels or where, and we can’t be sure they’re using the known network. Quincy is a wild card, but if he doesn’t work out, we could find more of those tunnel rats and bribe them.”

  Sloane stayed silent, and when they were far enough from Quincy, she switched on her flashlight. “I hate that you’re making sense, professor. Do we have time to check another spot?”

  Luke looked at his watch. “I doubt it. It will be dark within the next hour. We need to leave now to avoid raising suspicion.”

  The way back was faster, as they knew they wouldn’t run into any traps. Getting out was tricky as Luke had to lift Sloane on his shoulders, a circus trick that went surprisingly well. Once he finally pulled himself out of the hole and replaced the metallic lid, Luke looked around and saw a second truck parked beside them.

  Pure survival reaction made him reach for his gun, but Sloane reassured him. “Easy professor, that’s my ride.”

  “Your ride?”

  Freeing her pink hair from her ponytail, Sloane winked before throwing keys at him. “Keep my truck for now, and head directly to the safehouse. You’ll be fine. I’ll see y
ou tomorrow morning. Good night.”

  Sloane was out of sight before he could answer, leaving her equipment on the hood of the truck and Luke with even more questions. This time though, they were all about the elusive Slone Friday.

  Chapter 10

  Once the dishes were put away and the kitchen area was tidy, Luke turned it into his personal office.

  When he’d returned from the tunnels, he was only mildly surprised to see fresh clothes on his bed, and most of the stuff he’d require too. Whoever worked for the Vigilante was undoubtedly efficient.

  The first task at hand had been to update his GPS and log where they’d explored today. If he were totally honest with himself, he didn’t expect to find anything significant. It had been a wild guess but also a sort of test to check if Sloane Friday was up to the task. Not only had she passed with flying colors, but she’d showed him that she had more skills and talent than he gave her credit for.

  Again, not a surprise. If she worked for the Vigilante, she must bring something to the table he found useful.

  Poring over the maps, Luke checked for potential areas that could be utilized as underground highways.

  It was a blessing he’d been so organized, using spreadsheets from the beginning of his pet project. That way, he could discard several possibilities and classify the remaining options from highly probable to low. One thing he wished he could do was to cross-reference the most probable locations with increased criminal activity. It may be a dud search, but it could give them a new perspective. Highly probable with low activity would be his best bet. The crew they were after wouldn’t want to use a crowded area, too much risk of being discovered.

  That type of filter wasn’t easy to do, and still debating the process, Luke opened his web browser and searched the headlines. Chicago wasn’t peaceful in any way, and especially not since the Vigilante had appeared. The main news channels and papers rarely mentioned him, as he was only a rumor, and no journalist worth their salt would publish something they couldn’t verify first.

  Parallel presses weren’t as picky and there was a lot of information about the Vigilante. It ranged from serious investigations to conspiracy theories and alien connections, even superpower mutants.

  The Vigilante he’d seen in that reservoir was human and prone to errors and the potential of being killed. One thing that made him different was the aura of menace, the threat of danger raining down on the criminals of this city, that when you saw him, there was no way out. It was a wise move to play that angle.

  Wise, smart, and resourceful summed him up for sure. Holding that thought, Luke pushed papers around until he found the card Sloane had given him when they’d first met at the university.

  No email, just the name Noctem Consulting and a phone number. Maybe he could call and ask Sloane if she knew someone who could help with his idea.

  He grabbed for his phone before debating it more. It only rang once before a male voice answered.

  “Noctem Consulting. We didn’t expect to hear from you, Professor Radcliffe. What can I do for you?”

  Surprise had Luke speechless for a second. “Are you spying on me, whoever you are?”

  The man on the other end of the line snorted. “I wouldn’t call it spying. You agreed to help us, so in return, we make sure you’re safe.”

  “Not to sound rude, but who are you?”

  Luke heard another snort from the other end of the line. “I’m just the guy who lost the coin toss and had to sacrifice his evening to man the phone. What can I do for you, Professor Radcliffe?”

  “Please call me Luke. I was hoping to speak to Sloane. Sloane Friday.” Luke could hear a definite hesitation on the line. “Is everything okay? Sloane Friday does work for Noctem Consulting, right?”

  “Sloane Friday works here. I’m just surprised she gave you her real name. That’s not common around here, so forgive me for being a little surprised, scratch that, flabbergasted. Well, Luke, Sloane isn’t available at the moment, but can I help you with something?”

  Luke was a bit disappointed, but the most important objective took precedence over everything else. “I have an idea that requires some computer talent. Can anybody help me with that?”

  “Well, you’re in luck. You’re currently speaking to a computer genius. Shoot.”

  Point-by-point, Luke explained his idea of cross-referencing the data and the man on the other end of the line seemed to understand where he was going with it.

  “Listen, I can crunch those probabilities for you.”

  “It’s not foolproof, but if it can get us an approximate location of where to check next, which I’m sure would help the Vigilante.”

  “I’m sure it will. I’ll start working on it and update you. Continue to work that brain of yours, professor. We need it.”

  The man disconnected and Luke put down his phone, looking at the map once more, his fingers tracing the lines. “Where are you going?” He was speaking to himself, and that meant his brain was going into overdrive, and that wasn’t good.

  He pushed away from the counter and stretched a little. A run would’ve done him good, but that was out of the question.

  Still debating if he could maybe push the sofa aside to get a bodyweight workout done, his phone buzzed. He looked at the unknown number and hesitated. The Noctem guy was a genius for sure if he could find the data that quickly but he didn’t think it was him. “Hello?”

  “Is this Luke?”

  It wasn’t the Noctem guy. His voice was grittier, definitely older, and familiar.

  “It’s Luke.”

  “Boy, you asked me to call you if I heard something interesting.”

  “Quincy? Is that you?” Luke was scrambling now. “Yes, yes, I just didn’t think you’d call me so soon.”

  “If the deal is off…”

  “NO! No. The deal is on. If you have something for me, I’ll take it.”

  It was impossible to know if it was a curse or a cough, but he didn’t seem happy at being doubted. “Take it or leave it. But I’m not standing here like a fool, waiting for you to make up your mind, son. Especially since…”

  “My mind is made up. What’s the information?”

  “One of my pals told me about a strange car going in and out of a hotel underground parking lot, and from what I heard, it’s not the only place there’s been activity.”

  The anticipation he’d felt quickly deflated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Quincy, but hotel parking lots tend to be busy, especially in downtown Chicago.”

  “Don’t insult me, boy. I’m old, not senile. Same trucks, same men. All the time. Well, not all the time, but regularly. My friend Pauly confirmed it too. I’m waiting for him to tell me more about it. Should I call you back when I have the information?”

  No way was he risking losing that lead—if it even was a lead.

  “Tell me where you are. I’m on my way.”

  One thing the old homeless man could do with amazing ability was to blend into the urban surroundings. Luke had that skill in the military, but in civilian clothing in the middle of the street, he was happy to follow Quincy.

  Luke had donned the darkest clothes he could find, along with his cell phone and weapon, just in case before heading out in the truck. No doubt there would be some sort of GPS or tracking device in it, but he didn’t see it as a problem. And if he had to justify his actions, Sloane hadn’t outright told him he couldn’t leave the loft.

  The rendezvous point had been at the outer limit of the original tunnel network, the known one at least. The hotel where Quincy had told Luke to meet him was a posh location, and unlikely to be their target in Luke’s opinion.

  They were now crouched at the entrance of a nearby building, the two of them freezing their asses off. Luke ignored the discomfort, his eyes on the automatic garage door that had stayed stubbornly closed since they’d taken their post.

  “Are you sure it’s the right place?”

  After a series of puffs and snickers, Quincy
burrowed into his coat even deeper. “Youngsters these days don’t listen to their elders, think we’re a bunch of fools. I swear, I almost thought you were different.”

  Luke wanted to retort, but his attention was caught by a massive black SUV with tinted windows approaching the door. As expected, it opened.

  “Told you, son. Pauly is a reliable source. He told me he saw trucks going in, strange cars, coming and going, two fleets. That’s the first one.” As Quincy spoke, the two dark cars entered and disappeared.

  “Always the same place and the same cars?”

  “On Thursdays. This is Pauly’s corner. He knows his beat.”

  Luke took a quick look at his watch to check the time. “How long do they stay there?”

  Quincy shrugged. “Don’t know. But not long from what I learned. Especially since two more will come after the first wave. I don’t know why you’re so interested.”

  Four cars, two waves. Each night in a different location. Who were these men? And more importantly, why this particular location on this specific day?

  Luke’s mind went over the maps he remembered, and from what he’d gathered, there weren’t any access points around there, and that made him even more curious. He quickly looked around and noticed the surveillance cameras, and there was the risk.

  “Quincy, gimme your coat.”

  The homeless man looked at him as if he’d lost of few marbles. “I like my coat, son. And I need it! You want me to freeze to death?”

  Luke knew there was no time to waste, so he decided to let money talk. As he emptied his pockets and shrugged off his coat, Luke took some cash and handed it to Quincy. That set him in motion, and he abandoned his filthy oversized brown coat for Luke’s clean one, even putting the awful beanie over his head as a bonus.

  “I think you’re mad, son. Hope you have some sort of training to go in there. I wouldn’t like to see you come out feet first.”

  Luke buttoned the coat, already overwhelmed by the pungent stink filling his nostrils. “I’m a former Marine, and I’ve kept in shape, so I should be able to handle myself.”