“Can you hear him?” I took the shovel and hit the spot he’d been working.
“I can’t hear shit in this storm, but I think so,” he said.
“If he’s talking, then he’s breathing,” I shouted. The shovel might as well have been a spoon for all the good it was doing. “Christ, we need a pump, not a shovel.” I remembered that Stu had just such equipment in his shop.
Impossible. We’d never get that heavy equipment out here and certainly not in time. Something hand-operated? Then what? The rain didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime. This guy needed out, now.
“The backhoe!” I shouted. “They used it put him in.”
“I thought of that, but the closest thing I ever drove like that was a forklift and it’s been years.”
“VP, can you check if the keys are in it? If they’re not, look in the office.”
She’d been talking into the pipe and trying to keep water out of it, though the way the stuff must be coming in from the sides that was probably a waste of time. “On it,” she ran back to the machine.
Rollie stood where he could see her while I continued to dig. All I did was slip down the sides. I tried to scrape some of the earth covering the wooden tomb and water and mud rushed to fill the gap. By the time I made enough progress to lift up the boards he’d probably drown.
Rollie shot me a thumbs down.
Screw this. I dropped the shovel and ran as fast as I could to the backhoe. VP must’ve been searching the office for the keys. Rollie joined me, panting. “She can look,” I said, “but Grist and Mauser may have chucked them in the woods. Got a knife?” I found the ignition slot.
Rollie handed over his rugged K-BAR.
“Hot-wire, good call.” Rollie said. I worked the blade in the ignition housing until I could pry it from the dashboard. I cut the wires and began to play with the copper strands to get the thing running. “We have to get enough dirt off the wood box they made to pry up the boards and get him out before the water rushes in.”
Rollie nodded. “That could work.” VP came back, shaking her head. Rollie spoke to her. “Forget the keys, let’s find a couple pry bars,” he said. “Meet you there.”
I made a spark and zapped my fingers for my trouble, but after a couple hits the small engine coughed to life. I had a lot of experience with large versions, but during downtimes in the Sand Box there’d been a few of the baby excavators to play with as well.
I familiarized myself with the controls and did a couple quick test scrapes in the ground to get the feel. It wouldn’t help the poor guy to just claw him in half.
Satisfied, I put it in gear and rumbled toward the dig site. VP and Rollie were right behind me. They carried long crow-bars and the way they held them made me think of soldiers following a tank into battle.
At the site I positioned the excavator at what we figured was the foot of the box, away from the pipe where they could hear him. “Ready? As soon as I expose the edges, yank up those boards.”
They nodded and I gunned the engine. The controller felt slick in my soggy hands, but it wasn’t difficult to use.
My first pass with the excavator bucket barely made a groove in the soupy mud on top. I went a little deeper and a clap of thunder reminded me that I was sitting on a motorized lightning rod. The idea of getting fried at this point made me want to laugh and I realized the long night and lack of sleep was making me punchy. I refocused my attention to the controller.
Deeper this time, and water rushed to fill the void.
Steady, steady. I scooped again and again, spinning the excavator and dumping the bucket of slop.
“I hit something,” I yelled over the engine and storm. “Get ready, he could be underwater now.”
Another hit and this time we all could hear the scrape. Before the muddy water flowed over the section, I got a glimpse of the structure. It was made of logs, like someone decided to make a tomb instead of a cabin.
The metal teeth of the bucket caught on a knot in one of the pieces of wood. The entire log shifted and the water poured like a river straight into the exposed space.
I heard one gargled scream, then silence. I bore down and used the bucket like a big metal-clawed hand to drag another log back.
“Stop, I see him!” VP yelled. I moved the bucket out of the way and jumped off the machine. All three of us leaped into the space and up to our waists in cold, muddy water.
We bent and searched with our hands.
“Got him,” Rollie shouted and I reached down and got an arm around the slick, taped-up midsection of Stu’s body.
“Pull!”
The other logs were shifting back into place. He didn’t have time for us to get them out of the way. We yanked and tugged. Stu’s head appeared above the water line and he spewed brown water and coughed. Then he screamed.
The logs were closing in and squeezing his body. I immediately let go and lay on top of the logs where I could use my legs to press against their pincer effect. Rollie and VP each took an elbow and pulled.
The tight wrapping of the duct tape, so hard to grip, finally worked in our favor and he slid up and out.
They staggered back up the muddy sides of the trench and collapsed in a row with Stu in the middle. I stopped fighting the logs and let them come together, being careful to make sure my legs stayed free. It wasn’t easy, the logs shifted easily as the trench filled up with water. Rollie sat up and gave me a hand and I managed to get up the side and onto flat ground.
VP rolled Stu onto his side and he continued to cough. Silver duct tape stuck to his cheek, but he’d chewed through the sticky gag to clear his mouth.
Stu’s eyes darted around and his teeth chattered with cold. His whole body shivered.
“Stu, can you hear me?” I asked.
His head moved as much as it could and his eyes bugged out like I’d materialized in front of him. “Wha? Who?”
“He’s in shock, let’s get him inside,” Rollie said. “I’m liable to cut him, the way he’s shaking.”
“There should be some shears we can use. We can get some hot liquids going too.”
“It’s okay, buddy. I’m going to carry you and we’ll get you out of this. You’re going to be okay.”
I picked him up and he tried to struggle. He wasn’t a small guy and his wriggling was a hell of a lot harder to control than some barbell. I settled for a modified fireman’s carry over my shoulders.
He made some gibberish noises in protest, but I was able to move toward the building. This close to my face, there was no escaping the fact that he smelled like a guy who’d been buried alive and left for dead.
Rollie and VP were able to get the door open and Rollie snapped on the lights. We were all soaking wet, but Stu came first. I was more familiar with the layout and pointed out the kitchen area and Stu’s office, where he had a cot and some blankets. I got the heat cranked up and, most important, we found some tin snips that worked fine to cut the guy loose.
The duct tape cocoon wasn’t designed for sanitary comfort. “This is going to be a little messy,” I warned VP.
“I’ll take KP duty,” she said.
“He’s got coffee and maybe some soup or something back there,” I said.
Rollie went to get the shower going. Stu had a little home away from home in the shop and we were glad to see some clean clothes as well.
“How did I get here?” Stu was still way confused, but I guess it was a good sign that he recognized where he was.
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Try to hold still, let me get this off of you.”
That message got through. I started at his feet, working the shears at a steady pace. I heard the water start running for the shower and then Rollie returned with some towels. Once I uncovered Stu’s legs, Rollie checked his feet.
“Ice cold.” He began to rub them, trying to stimulate circulation. He poked the sole of the foot.
“Ow,” Stu said and his foot twitched.
“Good sign,” Rollie
said. “Bastards had him bound up like a python.”
I kept snipping and when I got his arms free, they just flopped to his sides. He did start to take deep breaths and that seemed like a good thing, at least as long as he didn’t hyperventilate.
Some of the tape had stuck so much to his clothes that I just went ahead and clipped those off too. I didn’t think he was going to want them back after this anyway.
“Get him down to his skivvies,” Rollie said. “As soon as he comes around a little, we can go with the shower. A tub would be best but we’ll make do.”
We put a blanket over him. VP stepped out with a couple steaming mugs. “How’s he doing? I made this hacker strength. You’ve been warned.”
“Ow, my arms,” Stu said, but he was rubbing them, which meant he was moving them.
“Stu, do you know where you are?” I asked.
He was like a sleeper snatched out of deep REM mode. “My shop. I remember you, but who the hell are they?”
“Friends. We can do introductions later. Think you can hold a cup of coffee?”
“Gimme.” Stu took the mug from VP and gulped it down. I was glad it didn’t burn him. He looked at VP. “Who told you how I like my coffee?”
* * *
Once Rollie had helped him into the shower Stu began to recover, at least physically. He emerged wearing clean blue jeans and a thick cotton work shirt.
He looked human, but his eyes had that post-battle shell-shocked look I’d seen too often in the Sand Box. No doubt Rollie knew it better than I. His manner with him was gentle and calm.
We took turns using the shower ourselves and Stu didn’t seem to mind our borrowing some clean clothes. VP looked comical inside Stu’s outsize wardrobe. Stu even cracked a smile, a good sign.
“Take a seat,” Rollie said, “and let’s see about getting you something to eat. Are you hungry?”
“I’m not sure. I feel shaky. Tell me again who you people are?”
“We were watching out for Tom and Kyle while you guys worked on the truck,” Rollie said.
“Why didn’t you stop them?” Stu pointed at me. “And you never told me about those maniacs. I would have never have helped if I’d known those freaks were out there.”
He made a fair point. “We thought we might have scared them away earlier.” It sounded lame to my own ears.
VP spoke up. “We were watching, but we had no idea they had that ambulance and they moved inside so fast, even if we’d wanted to stop one, the other might have killed everyone.”
Her anguish came through and I thought Rollie would have gone to his rifle if he’d been confident of getting them both.
“We had nothing but crap choices,” I added. It was true, but I doubted it helped.
“Why’d you leave me there? You could have called someone. I thought I was going to die in that dark.” Stu wiped away tears that welled up in his eyes.
“I swear we didn’t see what they did with you. We thought they—” VP stopped herself.
“Killed me?” Stu said. “They damn near did.”
“Me too.” I told him about the bombs, strapped to me and hidden on the path.
Rollie gave me a look, but I don’t think his heart was in it. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to share too much detail about what we’d been doing, but I felt like we owed it to Stu to understand we hadn’t simply used him and thrown him away.
The information soaked in and Stu sat in silence while he processed what we told him.
“So, they are really gone?” Stu spoke in a slow deliberate tone.
“Both,” Rollie said. “I’m not proud to say I wish I’d been the one who’d got them, but unfortunately, they got the ones that did.”
VP nodded. “I saw it. Wish I hadn’t, but those were the scariest dudes I ever ran into.”
“Will there be more of them?” Stu said.
“No,” I said. “They followed Tom all the way from Iraq. They thought they could pull off one more big rip-off and keep running from all the crimes they’d done overseas.”
Stu thought about that for a minute. It seemed like his mind was working, but only in first gear. “Okay. I’m hungry.”
Chapter 36
Gallagher’s Truck Service
We all raided Stu’s refrigerator and I checked in with Cliff at Delivergistics, letting him know there’d been a glitch with the truck, but it would be delivered later today.
A glitch. More like a wrecking ball through too many lives, but there it was. I even asked him if everything was okay.
VP asked to see me outside.
“What’s up?”
“I know we’ve had some distractions, you know, with people trying to kill us and all. But ever since those thugs showed up here last night, I’ve been wracking my brain about how they did it.”
“Yeah.” I felt the same. “How did Grist and Mauser manage to avoid our police escort and then you and Rollie watching out for them?”
“Some of the time we used that drone to see where you guys were headed,” VP said, “so our car could stay out of sight. But I don’t think that’s how they were following you.”
“If they’d been using a drone, wouldn’t it have been stored in the ambulance when they weren’t using it?” I said. “I didn’t see anything like that in their gear.”
“Exactly. I didn’t get a chance to search the vehicle all over, but drones with range are not that small.”
“Okay so what is your theory?” I asked.
“It has to be a tracker.”
Of course. “Damn. They were all over the truck before we scared them off at the Delivergistics lot.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to steal the truck after all.”
“I guess we’ll never know, but it’s a hell of a backup plan,” I said. “But why are you worried about it now?” My brain was tired as well.
“Because the tracker is still on the truck somewhere, and guess who has all the stuff left in the ambulance? Bombs, guns and spy gear, right?”
“I think we can trust Ali, but who the hell knows?” I said. “I barely met him, and sure as hell don’t know the people in his organization.”
“You see my point?” she said. “All it takes is one person to get the idea for an easy payday and Ali might never even know.”
* * *
The search didn’t take that long. I limited it to places they could have reached that night they broke into the lot. After that I ruled out aluminum, thinking it was most likely magnetic.
Sure enough, I found the small metal box stuck just behind the wheel well on the driver’s side.
“Smash it,” VP said.
“No, if anything is up, they’d come to the last place it gave a reading. I have to get this truck going anyway. I’ll make sure the tracker vanishes along the way. I like the idea of them searching a sewer.” I grinned.
“Yeah. That’s better.”
* * *
Back inside, Stu looked much more alert, even wary. He had a mug of soup in his hand and peered at Rollie over the top of it.
“How you doing, Stu?” I spoke softly, but he still nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Great, never better.” He spoke fast. “Well, a little better maybe. Thanks for coming back to save me.”
“Stu, I’m sorry about what happened and wish I’d figured out a way to prevent it.”
“No, no, no. I understand. You couldn’t know there were crazy people following you.” He stared at the floor.
“We never thought it was going to put you or any of us in danger.”
Neither of us sounded very convincing. He was scared shitless, and I felt guilty as hell.
“No, I get it,” he said. “And don’t you worry. I’m okay and I won’t breathe a word, promise.”
I reached into my back pocket and his eyes grew wide. I put up my free hand up in a palms-out gesture. “It’s okay, I just wanted to give you this, to say sorry and to cover the clothes and all.”
I extended my hand so he co
uld see I wasn’t planning to hurt him. “Please take it.” I held out a packet of cash, another ten thousand to go with his original payment.
“You don’t have to do that,” but his gaze did go to the money and after a moment he accepted it.
“If you need anything, anything at all,” I said.
“I’m good, really. Just tired. I might sleep for two days is all.”
“I understand. I’ll check in with you tomorrow, all right?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer you lose my number.”
* * *
We stood by the Blue Bomber. VP still wore Stu’s clothes and I’m sure was more than ready to get home and sleep in her own bed. “That was awkward,” she said. “Not that I can blame him.”
“Better than tragic.” I rubbed my eyes. “At least we got to rescue him,” I added.
“You going to be okay for that delivery?” Rollie said. “I can follow you.”
“You two saved my life, more than enough for a full day’s work,” I said. “You have the rest of the payment?”
He nodded.
“Better to secure that and get some rest yourselves. Rollie, you should get checked for a concussion.” Why did I bother?
“Don’t start. It wasn’t that bad. I only see one of you, okay?”
I gave up. “All right. I’ll get a company car to take back. If I hit the wall, I’ll stop somewhere to get some z’s.”
* * *
The trip to Pittsburgh was a mere hour and a half. I did divert to a truck stop where I got more food and caffeine. I chucked the transmitter into a dumpster and took the truck through the giant car wash.
I wished I could wash off the prior night as easily.
At the Delivergistics depot in Pittsburgh I noticed a police car waiting. For a fleeting, overtired instant I thought I was about to be busted. Of course, the officer was there courtesy of Cliff, in case Grist or Mauser would appear.
“What was the problem?” the manager, a guy I didn’t know, looked over the paperwork.
“Spark plug wires, no big deal. I just needed to wait for the guy to bring them, then I decided to head out the next day.”
The guy’s mind was already onto other tasks. “No worries. The way things are going we’ll probably end up selling the thing. I heard the guys who started the whole shitshow were poking around in Philly?”
Short Cut (The Reluctant Hustler Book 2) Page 24
