by David Carter
Archer calmly replied, “No, no, Saul, there will be nothing like that. Things will remain exactly as they are. All I ask of you and your crew is to put your hatred for me and our past aside, and start moving our new merchandise through your territory. What do you say?”
Gunner exhaled long and hard through his swollen nose. Once I’ve established a client base I can double-cross him and take it all for myself.
“I think we can do business,” Gunner said at last.
Ciggy rolled out from underneath the SUV. He quietly said to Spider, “They’ve parked their vans close enough together that the first one should set off a chain reaction. No need to waste time on the others.” Then he ducked as he quickly dashed across the open territory between the last of the SUVs and Archer’s limousine.
Spider boldly followed him.
Ciggy disappeared beneath the limo. Spider looked over at the table. He saw Gunner, Archer, and Mr Lombardi exchanging handshakes.
“Shit, the meeting's over,” Spider hissed. “We'll have to leave it.” He literally dragged Ciggy out from beneath the car, and just in the nick of time, they made it back to the cover of a stack of wooden crates as Archer and Mr Lombardi walked over to the limo. Then right before stepping inside the rear door, Archer gave a small nod to Francois, who clicked the safety off his rifle.
Chapter 32
Bullets started flying in every direction. Francois, Mr Lombardi’s captains, and Sanchez’s men mercilessly unloaded their ammunition, making Swiss cheese out of most of Gunner’s unsuspecting crew as they turned their backs to return to their vehicles.
Gunner froze with fear as bullets whizzed past his ears. He dropped to the floor for cover. He noticed at least half of his men on the ground with him, motionless, laying in pools of their own blood.
Agent Watson carefully slipped out a cell phone while no one was looking and sent the critical message: NOW, it read.
Commissioner Stuart relayed the command from the safety of his unmarked police cruiser, concealed down the road from the airbase’s front gates. His elite squad of sharp shooters moved in on the hanger.
Ciggy and Spider were covering themselves from relentless waves of splinters as bullets obliterated the stack of crates in front of them. They decided it was best to high tail it back to the others as bullets started pinging off the corrugated iron walls in all directions.
The fortunate dozen or so men from Gunner’s crew that were still standing ducked for cover behind their SUV s. They picked their moment while their aggressors reloaded, and surged forward without fear, forcing Francois and co to sprint for cover as they unleashed a spray of bullets of their own.
Four of Mr Lombardi’s captains fell. Two were killed instantly. One lay on the ground screaming, holding his thigh as blood jetted out of the open wound in sync with his heartbeat after a bullet tore through an artery.
Sanchez watched on as two of his henchmen flung their weapons to the ground after a series of bullets ripped through their bodies. This angered him greatly. He reloaded and took aim at the man who’d shot them; he was foolishly standing out in front of one of the white SUVs.
SPLAT! The man’s brains smeared across the SUV’s windscreen as Sanchez evened the score.
Archer enjoyed the scene while observing the battle with Mr Lombardi from inside his bulletproof limo. His evil smile shone brightly as he saw Gunner stranded in the middle of it all, flat on the ground, screaming, in a puddle of his own urine.
Ciggy and Spider had quickly made their way back to Blaze and the rest of the SAS while the shooting continued. The group of them crawled along the ground towards the open hangar doors. It was time to execute his plan.
The commissioner’s covert team stood outside the hangar, their backs flat against the open doors. They got the signal from their leader. “Smoke,” he whispered.
The two men standing closest to the entrance each unclipped a smoke grenade from their vests. They rolled them inside and waited for them to take full effect.
“Go, go, go!” said their commander.
Blaze saw the smoke. “Fuck, we got company!” he relayed to everyone. “Quick! Get out of sight!” They all fled to the junk yard of army surplus along the sidewall away from the carnage.
The operatives went in hot. They moved forward as a unit, flanking the same side of the divide as Gunner’s crew.
A stray bullet caught Francois in the leg. He cursed and dropped his rifle, and started limping towards Archer’s limo. The smoke blurred his vision. He tripped on one of Mr Lombardi’s dead captains and fell to the floor. Then from out of the smoke screen, Sanchez came running and heaved him to his feet, dragging him to the safety of Archer’s limo.
Sanchez fired up the engine. “I’m getting us outta here, Governor,” he said. He floored the limo and made it outside away from the carnage. Mr Lombardi’s captains and what was left of Archer’s crew employed the same tactic. Some of them made it, but the operatives made sure many didn’t.
Gunner summoned his courage, getting up from the floor and running straight for his Hummer. Blaze had to make a decision. He didn’t want the lives of the operatives on his hands, but he was left with no choice. He whispered to Ciggy. “Light it up, man!”
Ciggy reached for his pocket then dialled the cell phone.
KA-BOOM!
The explosion was incredible.
Gunner’s hummer and one of the white SUVs lifted off the ground in a blazing ball of fire. Gunner’s remaining men and the operatives on the righthand side of the building were shredded from the flying chunks of metal and debris, as the other four SUVs ignited one by one as their fuel tanks exploded. They were screaming and writhing in agony, burning alive where they fell.
One of the operatives was knocked off his feet and flung to the centre of the hangar from the force of the incredible blast wave, effectively saving his life. He avoided a horrible death with the rest of his comrades.
Blaze ordered everyone to get out. He didn’t know how many men were left standing. And he sure-as-shit didn’t want to stay any longer to find out.
Lemon felt a hand grab at his foot as he went to run outside. It was Vino. He was bleeding badly from a gash on his arm.
“What do we do with this maggot?” Lemon asked Blaze.
He thought about it or a moment. “Bring him with us,” he replied.
Lemon didn’t question what he thought was an odd decision. He hauled him up to his feet and helped him outside. The girls had heard the explosions; the signal to leave their hiding spot, and were waiting outside the hangar with the Mustang. Lemon threw Vino onto the back seat. Zoe reluctantly used a spare T-shirt from her luggage and wrapped it around Vino’s wound at Blaze’s request. “I should let you bleed to death, you fucking prick,” she said fiercely.
Blaze intervened. “I know you hate this douche,” he said as he put his hand on her shoulder, “but for the moment I need him alive.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“Do you trust me?” he replied.
“Of course I do.”
“Then please do as I ask.”
She glared at Vino. “You’re lucky he’s defending your ass for whatever fucking reason.”
Vino looked at Blaze and nodded his thanks.
“Hey, where’s Danny?” said Ace.
“Oh, fuck!” Blaze cursed. “I bet he’s gone back inside for Gunner!” He and Trigger quickly ran after him.
The shooting had stopped. The only sounds were the constant roaring of the burning vehicles. The floor was splattered with blood from the mangled corpses. Danny picked up the first rifle he could scavenge and hastily waded through the char-grilled men for Gunner.
There you are, you sack of shit.
He was lying on the ground, wailing in excruciating pain. His body was covered in burns. Blood seeped from the numerous wounds on his torso where jagged chunks of his Hummer had lodged deeply in his skin.
Gunner looked up at Danny, who pointed the barrel of the rifle at his fo
rehead. “Do it,” he pleaded. “Take your revenge.”
“With pleasure,” Danny replied without remorse. This is for you, my girls. He thought of his wife and daughter one last time.
“Drop your weapon!” said a loud, authoritative voice behind Danny. He felt the muzzle of a rifle touch the back of his skull. It was the one remaining operative who’d survived the blast.
“You’ll have to kill me,” Danny replied, without turning around; he didn’t care what happened to him.
“You’re the last man standing, and I need answers. But if you don’t drop your weapon I’ll be forced to change my mind,” the operative said gruffly.
“So change it.”
Danny put his finger on the trigger.
“I’m warning you!” the operative threatened him.
“And I don’t give a shit,” said Danny, then he looked into Gunner’s eyes as he said, “See you in hell, motherfucker,” and unloaded what was left of the magazine into Gunner’s face.
Sweet justice.
Danny dropped the rifle and put his hands on his head. He took one last look at Gunner’s mutilated body. He felt free at last. “So what are you waiting for, chump?” he said to the operative.
He closed his eyes and thought of Ellie.
Then the bullets fired.
Chapter 33
The operative fell to the ground as Trigger mowed him down from behind. Danny turned around, stunned and relieved that he was the last man standing. “You fucking idiot!” Blaze shouted, and embraced him tightly. “We could have lost you!”
“I’m sorry, man. I couldn’t leave without finishing what we started. I was ready to die, if necessary.”
Blaze finally let him go. “I understand, you stubborn son of a bitch. I’d have probably done the same. Why don’t we just get the fuck outta here, yeah?”
Danny thanked Trigger for saving his ass as they returned outside.
They decided it was too risky to stay in Worthington, so they headed straight back to Brighton.
Commissioner Stuart was also frantically driving back to Brighton’s police headquarters after his elite squad had literally been reduced to ashes.
Three hours later, after breaking every speed limit possible, the SAS pulled into the clubhouse’s driveway. Everyone went inside and dived straight into bed. They were exhausted after their hectic journey.
But Blaze had one last job to do. He drove Vino to Mr Lombardi’s mansion, after informing Archer he was en route. Archer, Sanchez, and Mr Lombardi greeted them upon their arrival.
Sanchez helped Vino inside. Mr Lombardi’s private nurse stitched him up, as she had also done for Francois, and left him resting.
Archer said to Blaze. “We need to talk. Are you hungry?”
“Fucking starving,” he replied.
They walked inside and took a seat at the table in Mr Lombardi’s dining room. “I know what you and Mr Lombardi are thinking,” Blaze said as Mr Lombardi’s personal chef placed a plate of fried bacon and scrambled eggs in front of each of the four hungry men. Sanchez and Blaze sat opposite Archer and Mr Lombardi at the glass-topped dining table.
“You have some explaining to do, Blaze,” said Archer. “What the hell happened back there? We felt a series of explosions as we speed out of the hangar doors.”
Blaze slowly chewed his bacon as he mulled over his answer. “I had to use my get-out-of-jail-free card,” he replied.
“You mean you set off those charges?”
“It was my contingency plan in case things went south. One of my crew loves making explosives for a hobby, so he rigged up a couple of charges that he could remote detonate and placed them underneath Gunner’s Hummer and one of his SUVs in case things turned to shit.” It’s just a shame we ran out of time to rig yours, asshole.
Archer’s face was tense. It slowly turned into a friendly smile. “See? That is why I wanted you to join my operation. You think outside the square. You found a way for me and Mr Lombardi to escape, and you completed the mission; Gunner’s territory is ours for the taking. We are both grateful for your forward thinking...” He suddenly hesitated.
“But?”
Archer shovelled a mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He chewed for a few moments, then said, “The question has to be asked, Blaze: why was the meeting ambushed? Everything was going to plan until the men in black suits showed up.”
“The answer is simple,” Blaze replied. “We have a rat among us.”
Sanchez looked at Blaze. “I think it’s you,” he accused him.
Blaze sharply pushed his chair back and aggressively stood over Sanchez. “If I were the rat you’d be fucking dead,” he threatened him. “Why do you think I waited till you were clear of the blast till I set the charges off?”
Archer calmed the situation. “Tyrone,” he said firmly. “After witnessing how Blaze not only arranged Gunner to meet with us, but also arranged our getaway, how could you even think of pointing the finger at him?”
“And he chose to rescue my nephew, Vino,” added Mr Lombardi. “I am most grateful, Blaze,” he acknowledged him.
“May I offer my condolences for the losses of your sons,” said Blaze. “It was never meant to play out like that. Someone must have tipped off the authorities about the meeting. I promise I will get to the bottom of it.”
Mr Lombardi nodded.
“Maybe you’re right,” Sanchez agreed. “My apologies.” He held out his hand for Blaze to shake.
Blaze accepted it. “I will find the rat,” he insisted. “If it’s someone inside the MC, rest assured I’ll make them suffer an agonising death. They’ll beg for the mercy of a bullet. It’s rule number one in the SAS: turncoats must die.”
“And I will do the same,” said Sanchez. “If we want this organisation to prosper we need to trust each other.”
“Then it is agreed,” said Archer. “Everything goes on hold until we flush out the rat.”
Chapter 34
“Jesus Christ,” said Ryan as he drove past the Worthington Army Airbase. The whole building had caught on fire after the shootout; it was still smouldering. All the fire brigades in the surrounding areas had been working tirelessly to bring the flames under control through the early hours of the morning. “I’ll give you one guess as to who was responsible for that,” he said to Sandra.
“Hmm, let’s see now: starts with B and ends with E?” she replied sarcastically.
“It’s definitely Blaze’s M.O,” he replied. “He has a thing for incinerating buildings. Plus I know he’s been in the area.”
“So, another nail in his proverbial coffin?”
“Perhaps.”
She hesitated before she asked, “What’s the story with you and Blaze anyway? I thought you guys were close. And now you’re trying to pin a murder on him?”
He remained quiet for a moment. Then he replied, “I don’t have a choice.”
“Why?”
This time Ryan hesitated.
She placed her hand on his arm. “You can trust me.”
He explained how the commissioner had backed him into a corner and blackmailed him into taking down Blaze and all known associates in connection with the Lombardis.
“So unless you dismantle the biggest crime syndicate in the country, you’re going to prison for helping Danny after he escaped from Winterhill?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“But you feel that Blaze and the SAS are actually good at heart?”
“Let’s just say he does the wrong things for the right reasons. He plays by his own set of rules; he has no concern for the law. I know for a fact he was going straight after he left Glendale, but the governor, Seth Archer, held him to ransom by threatening to kill his girlfriend unless he worked for him.”
“Talk about a rock and a hard place.”
“Exactly.”
“So how come he trusts you?”
“Well, as you already know, I tend to bend the rules when it comes to achieving justice. I turned a b
lind eye and let him have his revenge on the serial killer in Glendale.”
“You mean the killer wasn’t taken into custody like the reports said?”
“Nope. Blaze nailed him to a cross and burned him alive. The evidence was literally buried.”
“Oh, my word.”
“Believe me, that psycho had it coming.”
“Because he killed your baby?”
“Yeah...that and he murdered over twenty people during his reign.”
There was a moment’s silence between them.
“So you actually think Blaze killed the Bowmans?” Sandra asked.
“My head says, possibly...”
“But?”
“My heart says, no. But I’ll let the evidence do the talking.”
They turned off the main road into an upper-class suburb. They found the Bowmans’ residence and parked on the roadside. Crime-scene tape cordoned off the picture-perfect property. Beautiful, elegant gardens were perfectly maintained, shrubs were trimmed to perfection; not one leaf was out of place.
They ducked beneath the tape and went inside. absolutely nothing could have prepared them for what they were about to see. Sandra gagged at the grotesque sight. Mr and Mrs Bowman were hanging by their necks from a support beam in the living room. They had been stripped naked, and their insides shredded out by a meat cleaver—which was left on top of the bloody pile of human organs on the floor beneath them.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” said Sandra. She quickly ran outside.
Ryan cautiously moved forward. He crouched in front of the sickening sight. He exhaled heavily and ran his hands down his face, exasperated. Why would Blaze do this?
He quietly paced the living room, looking for anything of significance. He started taking pictures of everything. When he was done, he bagged the meat cleaver, so it could be examined for prints.
Sandra came back inside holding a crumpled piece of paper after retrieving her water bottle from the car.
