Short Cut (The Reluctant Hustler Book 2)

by J. Gregory Smith

  VP rummaged through the rest of the cabinets. “Clothes, whoa, that looks like explosives, bandages.” She tossed those to me. “Instant ice pack, and damn, there’s your walking-around money.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think I found all the cash that was in that case,” she said.

  I cracked the instant ice pack and shook it to speed up the cold reaction. Rollie was breathing steadily and I hoped it’d be nothing more than a concussion or just a bad headache. I looked over and saw the stacks of cash.

  It all made sense. “He wanted to lead us into the woods and find the money case. It had to be a trap. After it sprung, he’d come back to the ambulance. We found the case up the path and I just got the sense something wasn’t right.”

  “He would have killed everyone, right?”

  “After he got what he wanted,” I said. “You saved us.”

  “No, I just had to stop him he was going to …” She glanced over to Rollie, who was still kind of out of it.

  Her breath hitched and I opened my arms and pulled her in for a hug. “It’s okay.”

  She hugged me back and rallied. “I had no idea if it would even work,” she said.

  “Sucker punch from the gods.”

  “I like that.” She gave me her crooked smile. “Dude?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You owe me for a new drone.”

  * * *

  The Trailhead

  I left VP with Rollie. He needed a doctor but didn’t seem in imminent danger. The most important thing was to make sure he stayed put and definitely did not try to drive.

  I scrambled up the path and first retrieved the weapons and remains of VP’s drone. I dropped them into the trunk of Rollie’s car.

  It would be light soon. The clouds had rolled in heavier and it looked like it might rain. I thought again of Stu.

  We still had two bodies here and as far as I knew two more back at the quarry, not to mention a deadly surprise for anyone stumbling onto the scene.

  Back at the ambulance I could hear Rollie trying to be difficult.

  “Man,” VP said, “if you move, your brain will fall out or something.” She was trying to keep it light, but there was no mistaking the concern in her voice.

  “I’ve had worse hangovers.”

  I poked my head in. “Rollie, we’ve got this. VP, did you come across any of my phones? I can’t remember Ali’s number.”

  “Who?”

  “Mr. B.”

  “Oh. Yeah, there’s a bunch of them. Are some of these yours?” She pulled open the cabinet that also contained a brick of C4 plastique.

  Thankfully they’d used a different brand of phone and I gathered mine from among them. I’d scratched identifiers into each so I could remember who was who.

  I found the one for Ali and dialed, praying it wasn’t sitting in Aziz’s pocket.

  Someone picked up but did not speak. Of course, it could have been anyone calling, especially Grist. Then again, it could have been anyone answering.

  I broke the silence. “Hello?”

  “That’s all you have to say?” Ali said.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  “I’d prefer a private discussion. Are you nearby? And how was the … party?”

  “Wilder than I ever expected. We have a couple who will need a ride. I’m sorry to say they are asleep. A stranger and a friend.”

  Apparently familiar with careful communications, Ali seemed to understand what I meant.

  “Where are you?”

  I told him and he hung up.

  “Ali and Tom should be here in about ten minutes,” I said.

  Rollie was sitting up holding the ice pack to his head. I saw an aspirin bottle at his side and a bottle of water. “VP told me what she did and what’s still out there. We need to get the stiffs and this shot-up vehicle out of here, preferably while it’s dark.”

  “Your brain’s functioning,” I said, “but your bedside manner needs work. Aziz saved my life as much as VP.”

  “Fair hit,” Rollie said.

  “And we’re screwed if someone notices the bullet holes in the back.” I looked in some of the medical kits. “Yeah, this’ll have to do.”

  VP and I spent the next few minutes patching the ambulance’s wounds with white medical tape. It would look like the world’s worst stripe job in broad daylight, but in the half-light of morning we might get by until we could relocate it.

  Chapter 34

  Trailhead Parking Lot

  The approaching van flashed its headlights at us before turning into the lot. We appreciated it. We weren’t expecting possible attackers, but were very concerned about police or park rangers, not to mention innocent bystanders who might become suspicious.

  I heard a rumble of thunder in the distance.

  Ali got out of the van. Up close I could see Tom inside so I stepped up to check on him. “How are you doing?”

  “Brilliant.” Tom flashed a sleepy grin. “Ali’s got a proper party in that kit of his. I really must get shot more often.”

  “Morphine,” Ali said. “He’s stable but will need more attention.”

  I pictured chatty Tom, who wasn’t even supposed to be in the country, going to an emergency room. If we could help it, maybe there was another way. “I know someone discreet,” I said. “I’ll have to wake him up.”

  Ali shook his head. “Not necessary. I have help on the way. They will remove that murdering swine and care for Maloof’s remains.”

  “Maloof?”

  “My rifleman. He didn’t make it. Aziz?” Ali looked around. “Did you mean Aziz in your call?”

  “I’m sorry. He was very brave.” I explained what happened on the trail.

  “My people will be here in a few minutes. I’ve already told them to expect work in two locations.”

  I wondered about trusting so many strangers, but then again, it wasn’t like I knew Ali, either. He was alone at the moment and could have left Tom and disappeared with the diamonds.

  Thunder rolled closer and I felt a couple drops.

  Ali nodded. “Rain is good, it will clean off the quarry stones and keep away hikers.”

  That reminded me. “I found the money.”

  “It is yours. You earned it, despite your being forced to betray our deal.”

  “I hope you understand we had no choice.”

  “It’s done. And despite losing two good men, men with families, if I told them they would be able to avenge our losses at the hands of those butchers, they would have gladly traded their lives.”

  “Before your men go on the trail, I have to make it safe.” I told him about the booby-trapped case.

  Ali shook his head. “If you trigger the device, it will make noise. We are too close to the road and I think some homes.”

  “We’ll have to risk it. No way I leave something out there for a hiker to find. I don’t know how to disarm bombs, though. I spent too much time trying to avoid them.”

  “I do. My business requires many skills. Show me.”

  “This way,” I said.

  * * *

  Ali paused to say a silent prayer over Aziz and then spat on Grist’s corpse. When he was done, I took him up the trail to the case, still sitting in plain sight on the trail.

  Ali took out a penlight and examined all sides of the case without touching it. He then took out a long knife with a thin blade and probed around the edges that touched the ground.

  I wanted to move away, but considering all that had happened it seemed wrong, so dumb or not, I stayed close to the bomb. “Can I help?”

  “Shh.”

  I could do that.

  Ali stopped sliding the blade and withdrew the knife. He then used it to dig in front.

  “Take the light.” He held it up and I repositioned so he could see what he was doing.

  “Lower.”

  Ali was on his stomach and I understood what he was trying to do. He must have found some sort of switch, and now he was sl
owly digging underneath to try to expose it without triggering the device.

  After a couple minutes of slow removal of the soil he wiped off the blade and turned it flat.

  Rain began to patter down faster. A fat, cold drop hit the back of my neck and I concentrated on keeping the light steady.

  Ali slid the blade along the underside and used one hand to hold the flat side against the bottom of the case while the other pressed on top of the case. Now he lifted the case and I felt a cold chill wash through my body.

  My testicles climbed about to my belly, as if that might protect them.

  Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, boys.

  Aziz lifted the case and I heard something shift inside.

  He must have heard it too and I think I saw him flinch. He exhaled. “He must have been in a hurry. It’s a simple pressure switch.”

  “Now what?”

  “Hold this.” Aziz had balanced the case so it rested in his palm like he was a waiter about to carry a tray of drinks. He used his left hand to take the penlight and place it in his mouth. “Feel the switch under here with your finger,” he spoke around the small light. “Keep the pressure on it.”

  I let him guide my hand and did feel the rounded spring-loaded switch. I pressed, hard enough to make sure my hand couldn’t start trembling.

  “Hold it steady,” he said. “I am going to open the case.”

  As bad as this idea sounded, I didn’t have any better. At least if it went off neither of us would feel a thing. I hoped.

  Aziz snapped the chrome catches, which popped open loud enough to send a zing of adrenaline through my body.

  “In sha Allah,” he whispered and raised the lid.

  Both of us exhaled when we realized we still could breathe. “Don’t move,” Ali said.

  Inside I saw a battery and some wires attached to a detonator that was stuck into a fat wad of clay-looking C-4. It looked simple, but that too could be a sucker’s bet.

  Ali pulled the detonator and grabbed the explosive and threw it deep into the woods. I knew the stuff was stable and safe if left on its own. He cut the wires to the blasting cap and the trap was defused.

  * * *

  When Ali and I stepped out of the woods and into the clearing we saw another van and a half-dozen men all looking like they were Middle Eastern. Rollie and VP stood together and it was clear one or more of the men was covering them, even though I didn’t actually see a weapon.

  “Your guys?” I said. “You want to tell them to back off a bit? It’s been a long night.”

  “Of course.” Ali spoke to them in Arabic way too fast for me to follow, but I thought I caught the word friend. The men around Rollie and VP relaxed a fraction.

  One of the men carried a white sheet and another took out black body bags. A pair went to the entrance, presumably to watch out for unwanted visitors.

  The rain was doing a good job of preventing hikers. I walked over to Rollie.

  “How’s the head?”

  “Hurts but it’s still on my shoulders,” Rollie said. “You okay?”

  I told him about the booby trap. “But we’re not done. We need to get out of here and back to the truck garage. If it’s raining like this at his place, he might be in trouble.”

  “Trouble?” VP said. “I’d be out of my mind if I was trapped like that.”

  “I didn’t get a lot of say in the matter.” My words came out harder than I meant. “Sorry.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “So, what are we waiting for?” Rollie said.

  I didn’t like how much attention we were still getting from the guys not working on the bodies on the trail. “We need to leave on good terms,” I said. “By good terms, we have to be seen as part of the solution and not a loose end ourselves.”

  “He wouldn’t …,” VP began.

  “We’ve had some nice bonding time—bullets, bombs, blood and all—but I just met the man.”

  “What about Tom?” Rollie said.

  “I hear you. Sit tight, let me talk to Ali.”

  I found Ali directing the removal of the bodies. Two men carried Aziz with utmost care and I saw the body wrapped in the crisp white cloth. A third, a big guy, dragged Grist out by the foot end of the body bag.

  One of the men stood between me and Ali, who hadn’t noticed my approach. The guy didn’t say anything, but his body language spoke volumes. I tapped my limited Arabic vocabulary and said the word for “Boss.”

  Ali turned at the sound of my voice and turned the guard aside with a brief flick if his hand.

  “Yes, Kyle?”

  “Ali, we have a friend to rescue.” I explained Stu’s situation. “But I can’t leave until I’m sure we have an understanding.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have to get the truck at the quarry. If you have people attending your man Maloof and Mauser’s bodies, I need you to let them know we are coming and not to mistake us for some sort of threat.”

  “Of course.” He looked at me. “There was more?”

  I didn’t want to insult the man, but neither did I need another threat over my head. “Yes, well, I just want to make sure you’re clear that I was forced to wear that bomb and everything. I hope we are … square. Do you know the term?”

  Ali nodded. “Kyle, Ryan spoke highly of you,” he said. “I don’t say that lightly and neither did he.”

  “Of course.”

  “Despite the way the deal was tainted in the end, you delivered my property. You have your payment.”

  “What about Tom?”

  Ali shook his head. “I have someone waiting for him now. He has a most private practice. Tom will be fine.”

  “Tell him his share will be safe and waiting for him. Can you ask him to contact me as soon as he’s able?”

  “If you have his share, I could hardly stop him, could I?”

  We shared a brief laugh, then turned serious. “The ambulance?” I said.

  “By the end of today, the vehicle and the dogs that drove it will be mere memory. Perhaps not even that.” Ali mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

  “So, we are done?”

  “This business is concluded. If you have any new affairs to discuss in the future, if Ryan is unavailable to ask for himself of course, Tom will know how to reach me.”

  “Believe me, this was a one-time thing,” I blurted out and wondered why I felt the need to say it at all.

  “Go and get your truck.” Ali looked at his men and they melted away from us like we weren’t there.

  Chapter 35

  The Quarry

  The rain drummed on the roof of the Blue Bomber. That sound combined with the engine roar still couldn’t drown out Rollie’s non-stop bitching at me because I’d insisted on driving.

  “Fine, Rollie,” I said as we neared the quarry. “You drive. But VP, you have to ride with him and make sure he doesn’t slip into a coma or something.”

  “Coma, my ass,” Rollie groused.

  If not for the rain it might have been light outside already. I’d driven down the switchbacks and noticed at the top the fresh tire tracks, but no sign of Ali’s people, or police. By the time I reached the truck, I saw that our original tire marks were blurring.

  “Get to the repair shop as quick as you can,” I said. “Look for fresh dig marks in the back area and white PVC pipe sticking up. I’ll go as fast as I can without crashing, but no sense holding you back.”

  “You just want to get out of digging,” Rollie said as VP jumped into the front seat.

  * * *

  Down near the pit and the old mill, I had room to turn the truck around. I wondered if I should check inside the mill for evidence left behind of the makeshift emergency room, but Ali had as much or more to lose than I did. Besides, we’d more than pushed our luck already.

  I knew the stone and dirt roads were designed for heavy equipment and that the engineers had surely allowed for the chance of inclement weather. Even so I had little troub
le imagining straying too close to the edge in the heavy truck and the saturated sides going avalanche on me.

  The sides held. At least the raw fear worked better than coffee to keep me focused.

  The truck’s wipers beat time like a metronome as I drove in the early morning gloom. The hour-long trip felt like a year. I never saw Rollie, so I had to assume he and VP were already there and I prayed that Gallagher’s Truck Service didn’t have any customers scheduled early that day.

  When I pulled in to Gallagher’s I saw the Blue Bomber parked around the side of the metal building. I shut down the truck, leaving it blocking the entrance so that even if a customer arrived, we’d hear the honking before anyone could see what we were doing.

  I’d hoped to find the three of them inside working on a pot of coffee.

  Fat chance.

  I lumbered out of the truck and worked some of the stiffness from my leg. The rain poured down and I didn’t bother trying to go around the puddles. All I could think of was Grist’s warning about it not raining.

  I shivered and not because I was already soaked to the skin, but at the thought of Stu drowning in a muddy grave.

  “Hello?” I called out. Still better not to use names. No answer. I tried again, but the rain was too loud. It roared off the metal roof of the building like an endless drumroll.

  I hobbled to the back and spotted the little backhoe. Not far past it was a little dirt road for access to the rest of Stu’s land. Mostly I saw trees, so I headed for those. It had to be somewhere the backhoe could reach, they’d worked fast.

  “Over here!” I saw VP emerge from little more than a wide path. Her hoodie was down and her hair plastered against her face.

  I limped as fast as could to her. “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes, hurry.” She took my hand and tried to pull me along faster.

  Inside a stand of trees, I saw Rollie covered in mud. He worked a shovel at the edge of a small trench that would turn into a moat soon. Rollie looked more like he was bailing than shoveling.

  Rollie paused to put his ear to one of the pipes that stuck out of the ground. He shouted into it. “Hang in there. More help is here.” He saw me and waved me over.

  The rain seemed to sense my arrival and redoubled its efforts.