Red Tiger

by Sean Black

  Even though he had seen her for less than a second, he had recognized some of her mother’s features in her face. He struggled to compose himself.

  When he looked forward again, the SUV was slowing down, and Shotcaller was studying him.

  “That’s good. Pull over,” said Red Tiger.

  Shotcaller pulled to the curb.

  “Can we go now?” Shotcaller asked him. “That’s them,” he added, waving at the SUV and confirming what Red Tiger had just seen. “All you need to do is follow it from here.”

  Red Tiger made a quick calculation. He didn’t need a driver. That was true. But he couldn’t let the man leave. Not when he could alert his friends. And he didn’t have time to put him back in the trunk.

  “Leave the keys in the ignition,” he told him. “Then get out.”

  “What about my son?”

  Red Tiger opened the passenger door and got out. He held it open for the man’s son, who clambered out, still shaking.

  All three stood on the sidewalk for a moment. Shotcaller tossed him the keys. He took out his phone and tossed that to him too.

  “We can go?” he asked Red Tiger.

  “Yes. Go.”

  Shotcaller turned and started in the direction they had just come from. His son fell in next to him.

  Six steps later, Red Tiger raised his gun, and aimed at Shotcaller’s back. He squeezed the trigger twice.

  “Papa,” his son shouted, as Shotcaller fell forward, arms wide, his face planting hard on the concrete.

  The boy looked back, crying, anticipating more gun shots—for himself.

  Red Tiger climbed behind the wheel, started the engine and took off, leaving the boy on the sidewalk.

  56

  As Lock and Ty walked up the loading ramp and into the warehouse their juvenile escort melted away. Cresting the top, they walked down a long dock that smelled of mould and motor oil, and into a cavernous warehouse, long since abandoned.

  At the other end of the building was a set of large swing doors, one of which had been wedged open. Through the open door, Lock could see an alleyway. On one side of the warehouse a set of metal steps led up to a gantry that ran half the length of the building. Behind it were several offices, presumably where the warehouse and factory managers would have been able to watch the workers below.

  Lock’s cell phone rang. He answered.

  “You ready?” said Orzana.

  “What is this? A scavenger hunt?”

  “Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t called in any LEOs.”

  “Listen to me. We want this deal done clean as much as you do. Speaking of which, where are you?” Lock asked, as Ty walked over to the steps and began to climb. The height of the gantry made it a strong strategic position. Plus the offices behind would offer some kind of concealment and cover.

  Lock hit the mute icon on his phone and shouted up at Ty: “Check the offices. Make sure they’re clear.”

  Ty shot him a thumbs-up as he bounded up the steps. “On it.”

  “We’re almost there,” said Orzana. “Less than a minute. By the way, one of my carnals, Ernesto, has disappeared off the radar. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “I don’t even know who he is,” said Lock.

  “Just wondered,” said Orzana. “Talk soon.”

  Lock started walking the length of the warehouse, scoping out any other entrance or exit points. So far, they had only the loading dock they’d walked in through and the doors at the other end. Two exits didn’t give Lock a happy feeling in a situation such as this.

  As he did his recon work, he called Li Yeng. “We’re at the exchange point.”

  “Emily and Charlie are there?” asked Li.

  “Not yet, but I’m assured they’ll be here soon. You good to go?”

  “All we need is the word from you to make the next transfer.”

  There was more muffled conversation at Li’s end. Then Chow Yan was on the line. “Mr. Lock, do you see them?”

  “Any minute now is what we’ve been told.”

  “But you’re at the location?”

  Lock did not need this right now. He understood Chow Yan’s anxiety, but he and Ty had to focus on what was in front of them. Things could change at any second.

  He looked up as Ty appeared back on the gantry and flashed him an OK. “Clear!”

  Lock hit mute again. “Stay there for now. Give me cover if you need to.”

  “Lock?” Chow Yan was saying.

  He unmuted the call. “Yes, I’m here.”

  There was the sudden sound of engine roar from the alleyway. The noise echoed through the warehouse. Lock guessed this was it.

  Game time.

  Car doors opened and slammed.

  Two men wearing ski masks appeared at the swing doors. They both had long guns slung over their shoulders, and handguns on their hips. Lock noted their lack of body armor. A good sign under the circumstances. They had come armed, but not anticipating any kind of pushback or fire fight. He hoped they were correct.

  The two men pushed open the other door, and a black Suburban drove slowly through, tires squealing on the poured-concrete floor.

  “Stay on the line, and await my command,” said Lock, switching into operation mode.

  Chow Yan was no longer a client, no longer a worried father or uncle: he was the man Lock was relying on to hold up their end of the bargain. Lock reduced him in his mind to a functionary, just as he was.

  For this to be finished it was important to tune out any remaining vestige of emotion and function on the mechanics. It was a transaction. One weighed down by greed and distrust and a lot of other ugly human factors, but a transaction nonetheless.

  Chow Yan continued to jabber questions in the background. Lock tuned him out as he walked towards the vehicle. At the very edge of his vision, he could see Ty hunkered down, weapon drawn, ready to lay down fire.

  Not that it would be of much use. Lock was standing dead center of a warehouse. The MS-13 didn’t need to shoot him. All they needed to do was have the driver of the Suburban stomp on the gas pedal and Lock would be so much road kill.

  The only thing he had going for him right now was that they didn’t have the balance of the ransom.

  The solar system must have bounced the thought all the way to Beverly Hills because the next thing he heard Chow Yan say was, “Should I action the transfer?”

  “No,” Lock barked into his phone. “Not until I say we’re good.”

  “Can you see them? Are they there? I heard something.”

  “There’s a vehicle. They may be inside,” said Lock, taking a few more steps. “I’m approaching it now. Don’t do anything until I tell you.”

  He stepped off to the side. As he moved, the rear passenger door popped open. Instinctively, his right hand fell to his SIG.

  Another MS-13 heavy climbed out, revealing Emily and Charlie on the backseat. “Okay,” said Lock. “I see them.”

  Now the front passenger door opened, and Noah Orzana got out. Lock hadn’t expected to see him. He figured that, like Chow Yan, he’d leave the actual physical exchange to the lower ranks.

  Orzana stayed next to the vehicle, his door still open.

  “What’s the delay?” he asked Lock.

  “I see them,” Lock answered, with a nod to the backseat. “But that’s not the same as having them with me.”

  “What?” said Orzana. “You don’t trust me? You think we’d take your money and drive off?”

  “You have that option,” said Lock. “I don’t.”

  “You want me to have someone bring your car round?” Orzana smirked.

  “No,” said Lock. “Just let them out of the vehicle. Soon as they’re with me and I’m walking out, I’ll say the word and you can have your money.”

  “You want to know the problem with this world? There’s no trust anymore,” Orzana said, nodding for Emily and Charlie to be let go.

  A cell phone rang. It was Orzana’
s. He looked at the screen and there was a flicker of something across his face that Lock didn’t like. He held up his hand in the direction of the heavy who was in the process of helping Emily and Charlie out of the Suburban. “Wait.”

  As he took the call Lock did his best to tune in to what was being said. He could only catch Orzana’s end.

  “What? . . .Where? . . .You’re sure?”

  His expression was darkening with every question. Whatever it was, Lock knew it wasn’t good. And it looked like bad news that couldn’t have come at a worse time.

  “That carnal I asked you about earlier,” he said to Lock. “Ernesto?”

  Lock shook his head. “Never heard of him before you brought him up.”

  “He’s been shot. Three blocks from here. In front of his son,” said Orzana, eyes dead.

  “And your crew have been with me this whole time. They walked me down here, remember. I think they’d have noticed if we’d stopped to put a hole in one of your associates.”

  “What about him?” said Orzana, with a nod to the gantry where Ty had his gun aimed square at Orzana’s back, the message unambiguous––Kill Lock, and you die too.

  “Same. He was with me. Ask your junior crew if you don’t believe us.”

  “Even so,” said Orzana, “price just went up a million, and this time I mean it.”

  He turned back to Emily and Charlie. “I’ll kill them both right here in front of you.”

  “Deal’s agreed. It’s too late for renegotiations,” said Lock, his tone even, his voice calm.

  “Screw you,” Orzana countered. “Too late? What does that mean?”

  Lock had hoped not to play this next card. It was open to his bluff being called. But things could spin out of control fast if he didn’t talk some sense into the man facing him.

  “It means that when we got here I texted this location to my buddy Carl Galante. I told him that if he doesn’t hear from me in the next . . .” Lock theatrically checked his watch “. . . three minutes he’s to call LAPD. So, we have three minutes to do this and get the hell out of here. Because I don’t want to explain to them what we’re doing here anymore than you do. So, dead carnals or not, it’s time to either piss on the pot or get off.”

  Orzana said nothing at first. Seconds passed. Lock looked past him to Emily. Her head was down and her eyes were closed. Her nails were dug hard into the palms of her hands. She was holding on, but only just. She must have been able to sense that this was it. In the next minute she could be free, or dead.

  “Okay,” said Orzana. “But if I find out you had anything to do with it then this isn’t over.”

  Lock kept his own counsel. He’d be happy to discuss any of this one-to-one with the man in front of him at a later date but telling him that wasn’t going to get this done.

  Orzana gave the signal for the second time. Emily and Charlie were helped out of the back of the Suburban on shaky legs.

  “You mind removing their restraints?” said Lock.

  A nod from Orzana, and one of the men took out a knife. He cut the ties from around their wrists and ankles.

  “You can make the transfer,” Lock told Chow Yan.

  Everyone waited. Lock motioned Emily and Charlie to walk over to him. Emily had to put a hand out to steady her cousin. He’d need medical attention, but first Lock had to get them out of there. And for that to happen, Orzana had to get confirmation he’d been paid. Then Lock had to hope the money clearing would push any thoughts of revenge or double-cross to the back of his mind. In his experience, a few million dollars tended to have exactly that effect. People found all kinds of forgiveness in their hearts when they saw seven figures lined up in a row. Even hardened criminals, like Orzana.

  Orzana’s cell rang again. This time he seemed to respond to the news a little more positively.

  “Okay. Thanks,” he said, his mouth threatening the barest of smiles.

  Lock stayed on guard. He wasn’t about to turn his back on anyone. He moved so that he was in front of Emily and Charlie, and made sure he had one hand on his weapon. Above him, Ty held his position, ready to move on Lock’s signal.

  “We’ll let you guys leave first,” Lock said to Orzana.

  “You don’t want a ride?” Orzana asked.

  “Think we’ll pass,” said Lock as, out of the silence, another vehicle roared down the alley, and seconds later all hell broke loose.

  57

  The vehicle, a red sedan, powered through the swing door, tires squealing. The driver must have yanked on the parking brake because it slid across the warehouse floor side on. The man was a blur, but Lock saw enough to know who it was.

  The Red Tiger had made his entrance. It was a one-man cavalry charge that had come too late.

  Tang Bojun bailed out of the sedan before it had come to a stop. He tucked in behind the car, using it as moving cover. A second later he popped up from behind the trunk, and took aim with what looked to Lock like a Mossberg.

  He squeezed a shot off at the back of the Suburban, blowing out the back windshield. Glass fragments flew everywhere.

  Lock, meanwhile, was already on the move. His SIG was drawn, and pointed toward the MS-13 heavies, who were clambering out of the Suburban, guns in hand, and beginning to return fire at the Red Tiger.

  Orzana had flung himself to the ground, and crawled under the hulking SUV—a wise decision, assuming no one moved it, in which case he’d be squashed like a bug.

  Declining a conventional shooter’s stance that would narrow his body, Lock spread himself out, trying to get as much of his body between the fire zone and Emily and Charlie. He held fire, his finger ready on the trigger of the SIG. In the wild early exchanges of a gun fight, firing drew return fire.

  He glanced up at the gantry. Ty was nowhere to be seen. Then he spotted him working his way down the metal steps. Lock put out his free hand and waved Emily and Charlie to the rear as he started to back up.

  With all the action at the other end, and shots still being exchanged between the Red Tiger and MS-13, their best bet, maybe their only bet, was an exfiltration via the loading dock where he and Ty had come in.

  He twisted his head round so he could look at Emily and Charlie without sacrificing the cover he was offering them. “We’re going out that way,” he said, jabbing a finger toward the loading dock.

  Neither of them moved. They seemed frozen.

  The sound of the gunshots echoed at ear-shredding volume around the empty warehouse. Lock turned back to see one of the MS-13 gang members take a shotgun blast straight to the chest, blood blossoming in a crimson flood.

  One down. Three to go, including Orzana, who was still hiding under the Suburban, a gun drawn, desperately belly-crawling in an attempt to get an angle on the Red Tiger.

  The Red Tiger racked the Mossberg again and took aim at another of the MS-13 escort. Lock was struck by the sheer calmness of the man as he pulled the trigger and found his target for a second time.

  The round struck the man’s throat. His arms frantically windmilled, his hands clasping at what was left of his neck, blood spraying.

  Ty cleared the last few steps in a single leap. Lock backed up a few more steps.

  He caught movement from underneath the Suburban just in time to see Orzana aiming his pistol toward them. Lock squeezed off a single round. Ty hunkered down and did the same, their two shots making Orzana’s round go high and wide.

  Lock risked another quick glance behind him. Charlie had his hands clamped over his ears and was hunkered down in a near-fetal position.

  “Get him up on his feet, and start moving back there,” Lock shouted at Emily.

  She grabbed her cousin’s arm and hauled him upright.

  Ty scrambled over to them, a fresh shot from near the Suburban whizzing so close to Lock’s head that he felt it pushing through the air. If they stayed any longer it was only a matter of time before one of them caught a round.

  The Red Tiger moved out further from behind the sedan. He was sho
uting at Emily. Lock couldn’t understand the words, but the tone, the plaintive plea, was unmistakable.

  Orzana had broken cover. He was at the side of the Suburban. He popped open the door and seemed to reach down into the footwell.

  Lock kept backing up. Now both he and Ty were standing in front of Emily and Charlie as the four of them backed towards the loading dock.

  All they needed to do was make it outside to the street. There were no sounds of sirens yet, but Lock had to believe that gunfire so close to downtown would draw some kind of a response. If it didn’t, one of them could make the call to 911 as soon as they were clear of the kill zone.

  The Suburban’s door slammed. Orzana reappeared hefting a rifle. He fired an immediate shot toward the Red Tiger who dove for the ground, kissing the concrete just in time and crawling back toward the sedan.

  Lock grasped the moment, turning his back on the gunfire and grabbing Emily as Ty swept up Charlie. Together, they ran for the loading dock.

  As they made it, Lock saw Orzana heading for them with another of the MS-13 men. Orzana stopped, and raised the rifle.

  Lock grabbed Emily around the waist and took her down to the floor, falling on top of her as the shots rang out overhead. He spun round, staying on top of her, making sure that his body covered hers, punched his arm out and took aim.

  Next to him, Ty was doing the same, protecting Charlie with his own body as he fired back into the warehouse.

  The Suburban’s engine started. One of the other remaining MS-13 heavies piloted it slowly toward the loading dock, as Orzana used the open passenger door as cover. At the back of the Suburban another masked man fired toward the sedan, keeping the Red Tiger pinned down.

  Lock’s heart sank. They were outgunned, and the Suburban was good cover.

  The SUV inched forward, getting closer to them by the second. Orzana kept pace with it from behind the door, a boxer walking down an exhausted opponent, closing the distance, ready to deliver the final knockout punch.

  They were trapped. Lock knew it, and so did Orzana.

  Stand up and make a run for it, and they’d be shot in the back. Stay where they were and the result would be the same.