Buffalo Soldiers (An Upstate New York Mafia Tale Book 2)

by Nicholas Denmon

  He seemed concerned. It seemed a full truth. But so had the cop’s when she asked what he was concerned about.

  Two weeks later he left her saying he couldn’t handle her success knowing he had failed to accomplish the exact same thing.

  Eyes can tell lies the same as words Daddy.

  “Ma’am, I have the layout of Leonard Ciancetta’s home.” Agent Conrad said. “There’s a front gate that has same two side exits along with a guardhouse at each. The property line backs up to Lake Erie so there probably is no exit there.”

  “Conrad, send the schematic to the others.” She glanced at the tablet in Briggs hands that already had blueprints and street views of the property. “Throw it up on their tablets. Have the rear van take exit one and neutralize guards on that gate. We’ll take exit two and neutralize guards on that gate. I don’t imagine this will be a run and capture scenario. We are not making an arrest.”

  “Ma’am, neutralize?” Agent Conrad seemed hesitant. “Without a warrant?”

  “Not with force. Badges and threats, Agent. And surprise. They don’t know we don’t have a warrant and I don’t intend to give them a ton of time to ask questions.” Briggs cleared his throat and she looked at him as well.

  “What if they have a boat? They had one earlier.”

  “Make the call to the Coast Guard.” She smiled. Briggs was good at checking on escape routes on the fly.

  He can’t be with them. Can he?

  Briggs called into the Coast Guard dispatch. She pulled the car over about three blocks from the target area and turned around in her seat. “Make sure that squad car meets us here. Also, make sure everyone puts on their vests. Then we’ll caravan it out of here. Conrad, pull up any surveillance including satellite on the residence.”

  “Present only?” he asked.

  “Anything in the last twenty minutes. Including incoming phone and text to known numbers.”

  “Gotcha. Also the squad car is in the area, it was just waiting on us.” Conrad flipped a cell and called into the van pulled over a half dozen feet behind them and she could see Timms answer it through the windshield. “We’re going in heavy, just in case. Make sure everyone puts on the Kevlar.” Timms nodded and she could see him giving instructions to the rest of the crew. Dr. Tolbert would most likely remain in the van but she was strapping on her vest too.

  Briggs was instructing the Coast Guard in that gravely voice of his and Agent Conrad had dispatch reroute the squad car to their location. Then everyone got quiet as they waited. Briggs was playing on his phone and Conrad clicked through various screens on his computer but other than that, the hum of the engine was the only distraction and it wasn’t enough to keep Sydney from turning inward.

  Dad is gone. Briggs might be a piece of shit. My career is teetered on the edge of a knife.

  The list bothered her because it reminded her of all the things she sacrificed to get to where she was in her professional life.

  I broke up with Briggs.

  Sure, she did it to maintain professionalism. He hadn’t understood. “A promotion doesn’t mean you can’t have a boyfriend.” His lips had tucked under his teeth when he tried to keep his composure. “Or a fiancé.”

  He really never forgave her and if he did indeed betray them, she couldn’t help but think maybe that played a role in the whole thing. His square jaw clenched as it always did when he was engrossed in something. Some people squinted or stuck their tongue in the side of their mouth. Briggs just clenched that jaw of his while he answered an email on his phone. His jaw always reminded her of the rest of him. He kept in shape beyond what was required and the rest of his body bore the fruit of that labor. She felt the familiar pang in her chest and looked away.

  I missed my father’s last moments on this earth.

  “If it’s any solace,” the nurse had said, looking at her white tennis shoes, “he asked for you, at the end.”

  Sydney felt the tears rise into the corners of her eyes and she blinked them away.

  The warrant. I had to get the warrant.

  It was all for naught. Someone got there first and now dead Americans litter the Galleria Mall, an unknowable consequence to one event.

  Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

  The whole domino series of events fell squarely on her shoulders.

  But how is it connected. Why take an Italian hitman and then blow up a mall?

  “Sydney. He’s here.” Briggs’ voice pulled her out of her thoughts and a squad car pulled alongside the road with a quick second of the siren as greeting.

  “Let’s go say hello then.” She wiped the sleep and wetness out of her eyes.

  “Syd. Real quick before you go. This might help.” Agent Conrad slid her a piece of folded notebook paper. “Might be a play here if my history serves me right.”

  She unfolded it, careful to shield it from the view of Briggs. She smiled. “When was this?”

  “Text twenty minutes ago. Video surveillance, maybe five.” Agent Conrad smiled back and then went back to his computer screen, the blue-white light dancing off his eyes.

  Sydney and Briggs got out of the car and the Buffalo City cop strolled over in his navy blues. His shoulder mounted radio and the gun on his hip made him look intimidating but the grey hair and wrinkled face spoke of retirement on the horizon.

  “Agent Price?” He extended a hand. “Sergeant Zgoda.” He tossed his chin in the direction of the car. “He won’t get out. Fella’s pretty beat up right now and can’t say as I blame him. His wife is in intensive care over at Buffalo General.”

  “Do you know Officer Vaughn?” Sydney asked.

  “I know of him, sure. He’s sort of a legend or maybe he’s notorious. I never can tell the difference. Either way, I’d say it’s safe to say we all know of Alex Vaughn down at the station.” He eyed her up and Sydney recognized the suspicious air with which he regarded her. She had the same look stamped across her face every time she spoke to Todd Simmons.

  “Very well. Then you know what this man has been through. You know about the mall and the man killed on his lawn. I want you to speak to whoever you have to and get an officer in front of his wife’s hospital room door twenty-four seven until you hear otherwise. I also want you to text my cell the second you know anything about her condition. Got it?” Sydney brushed past him when he nodded. Briggs started to follow her to the car but she spun around and said, “Briggs stay here and make sure Sergeant Zgoda makes that call. I don’t care if he has to go himself.”

  This was going to be delicate enough without prying ears. She could see the back of Vaughn’s head through the vehicle glass. He sat on the back right seat of the squad car so she went to the left, pulled open the door and slid in next to him. She pulled the door shut and sat down. The back of the car was heavy with Alex Vaughn’s presence and for a moment, neither of them said a word.

  She studied her hands before looking up at the scar creasing his face and the brown hair that fell down in front of his eye in a careless looping lock. His shirt was splotched purple in places along the front but the loose and unbuttoned sleeves looked like he dipped them in a bowl of juice. A small duffle bag lay unzipped at his feet with carefully folded clothes, a makeup bag and a romance novel.

  He caught her glance and his bloodshot eyes, rimmed with puffy pink eyelids and heavy with weariness fell on hers. She imagined she didn’t look a ton better. “I can’t figure out if this is worth it. I thought I knew but now I don’t know.”

  “What is worth it? Doing the job?” He didn’t blink. His eyes just seemed to glide on their wet surface and search her face.

  “No, not doing the job. Staying away from it.” He looked at his hands. They were clean up to the wrists where he washed them but above the wrist blood caked his arm hair.

  “A few seconds before you pulled up I was wondering if the job was worth the price.” They looked at each other in silence, letting the seconds tick past.

  “And?” He asked the question and his eyes
fell downward as if the weight on the lids became unbearable.

  “And I don’t know. But I can say that whether or not you stayed home, and whether or not I go to work every day, this bombing still happened. The only difference is now I get a chance to get some revenge.”

  Vaughn gave her the courtesy of a weak smile. A breath of air passed from his lips and she couldn’t be sure if it was a laugh or not. It might have been a scoff. “You mean justice, right?”

  “Sometimes you can get both,” she saw his weary eyes lift again, this time with a bit of a spark.

  Now’s my chance.

  “If she dies,” his throat clenched the words halfway out and he looked down again at the bag. “If she dies where’s the justice in that?”

  “If she dies, it’s up to us to see justice through.”

  He looked up at her and his eyes hardened. “I’ve seen this played out. It won’t end how you think.” He reached down and into the bag of clothing as he continued. “I’m not saying it’s wrong. It might be right with every fiber of your being, but is it worth it?”

  “Worth what? You keep asking that.”

  “Worth waking up tomorrow and realizing you’re not the same person you were when you woke up today?” He pulled a Beretta from the bag.

  “I know it’s better than doing nothing.” Sydney held his gaze. She believed it. She had to. She didn’t give up a relationship; she didn’t give up the last moments with her father for anything less. “They have to pay and I intend to make them feel the full weight of justice, between their eyes if I have to.”

  Vaughn looked her in the eye and pulled the slide on his Beretta back with a metallic click. He looked to make sure the chamber was locked and loaded then looked back up at Sydney with his baby browns. “Okay. What do you need from me?”

  “You have a history with this crew. I need you to use that because we need them to talk. We need them to talk now.” She handed him the folded piece of paper.

  Alex winced. “So we are going there? I thought we might be considering how close we are to his house.” His eyes darted back and forth, almost like he was looking for a way out.

  “Something wrong?” She studied his face when he turned back.

  “No. But two things. If you want my help, you have to promise. You have to promise me you don’t hold anything against me for things I did to survive back when I was undercover.”

  “I promise. I’d never…”

  He cut her off. “And second, we do this my way. It’s your investigation, but this, this conversation we do my way.”

  Sydney slowly nodded her head. She was willing to go all in to make it happen. “Fine.” She extended her hand and Alex clasped it.

  “Let’s do this then.” He tucked in his Beretta and opened the squad car door. She climbed out of the other door and they came together at the back of the car on their way towards the van. Briggs and Officer Zgoda walked towards them.

  “Let’s get some justice.” He flashed her a tight grin.

  “You mean revenge?”

  “Whatever.”

  Chapter 18

  Ivan flicked off the lights as they pulled off the roadway and came to a stop just in front of the double-doors of Bethlehem Steel. Once the center of the steel universe, and a factory bustling with more than twenty thousand workers that contributed to more than twenty-seven million tons of steel a year to the tune of seven billion dollars, the thirteen hundred acre facility had been shuttered for more than two decades. Parts of it were operational but much more of the facility lay abandoned behind the steel doors emblazoned with a raised hexagon and a large “I’ in its center, the Bethlehem Steel logo.

  They got out of the car, leaving the engine running, and without shutting the doors, walked up to the gate. Chain link fencing rimmed with inverted barbed wire extended outward on either side, promising to half-heartedly prevent intrusion.

  Largely a forgotten blight to most of the city, the shuttered factory would simultaneously be a recognizable landmark but secluded enough to prevent unwanted ears and eyes. The heavy doors wore a layer of dusted rust but were solid to Ivan’s touch.

  A thick iron chain that wrapped around the handles of the gate hung loosely from their perch.

  “Bolt cutters,” Eddie whispered.

  “Take the car a hundred yards down the road and meet me back here.” Eddie turned to do he was told but Ivan caught him by the arm. “Bring that fancy gun of yours too. We might need it.”

  Eddie nodded in acknowledgement and got in the car, quietly pulling the doors nearly shut on either side. He moved the vehicle parallel to the fence and pulled over. Ivan sniffed the air as Eddie made his way back. He could smell the steel like a living entity in the night air.

  He thought back to the priests lying on the floor at Jesus’ feet. He thought of Pavel crying out for mercy.

  Earlier everything smelled of iron.

  Steel was made of stronger stuff. He would have to continue to be strong. The strong devours the weak. The moonlight gave them enough light to see by and as they slipped inside the grounds, they moved in silence.

  Eddie kept his rifle at eye level and walked a few feet behind Ivan who studied the ground near the fence. A few dozen tracks headed up and out towards the large white windmills that dotted the landscape at the back of the old factory. Some were large and others were slender and looked like sandals. A kid or teenager. Not likely the right direction. He looked up at the huge 153-foot blades slowly whirling against the black sky.

  Those weren’t there when I went in for my stint.

  But he would have had to be in a coma to not hear about it on the news. Eddie stared up at them too. He seemed unsure of what to make of them.

  “From the Rust Belt to the Wind Belt,” Ivan muttered before returning his gaze to the ground. Tire tracks moved out straight from the fence line, but only two moved away and out towards the old steel plant. By the looks of them they were old.

  Maybe we got here first.

  He stood up. “I ain’t a fucking tracker. I don’t even know if these are their footprints.” The moonlight wasn’t sufficient enough to see everything. If they missed the tracks or had the wrong entry points into the facility, the meeting could happen anywhere and they could miss any chance they had to find Rafael.

  “Who are we tracking specifically?” Eddie leaned over the prints.

  “Pavel or the cop. Or both.” Ivan squatted down next to Eddie. He peered more closely at the imprint and nearly let out a laugh. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” He traced the outline of the symbol at the interior of the print.

  The star of Bethlehem.

  He stood up. “It’s them, or his, whatever. I’ve seen that star before.”

  Eddie stared at him but stood up too. “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. God’s on our side.” He followed the tracks with certainty. One foot in front of the other in the gloom, they crossed the brown turf. A light fog seemed to have drifted in along the shores of Lake Erie and the faint whirl of the windmills hummed in the air. The rusted brown steel plant loomed above, broken windows tinted with dust peering down with decades of disinterest. Catwalks came and went at various angles protruding from the building like antennae probing the air.

  They neared the brick building that was the old plant facility; black and broken windows cast toothless smiles down upon the duo. Ivan could hear Eddie’s labored breathing and he wished his companion could pant a bit more quietly. They followed the star through the dirt to where it stopped at a small flight of three steps that ended on a crooked cement landing in front of an old metal door. The top half of the door was lined with broken glass from a window that used to rest there. When they got to it, Eddie placed his hand on the door handle and looked at Ivan who nodded. Eddie swung the door open and stepped back, holding the Ak-47 at eye level and scanning the room left and then right. He shuffled forward and Ivan followed in his wake carefully scanning the dark building by bits of moonlight that cascaded through
multiple broken windows in silver beams of pale light. A large cavernous hall met them. The roof stood atop three rows of steel beams that lined the plant floor as steel vestiges of Greek magnificence. These columns were no great aesthetic architectural achievement, but rather necessary constructs, their only achievement being their mere existence, tributes to the ingenuity of man.

  Eddie pulled out an LED flashlight once the two of them decided they were in no immediate danger. They followed the outer wall of the plant towards a manager’s office that stood at the top of two staircases on the far wall. One staircase ran up the wall to the left side of the solitary room, while the other descended from the right side. Ivan caught Eddie’s eye and nodded up towards the room.

  Might be able to get a better view up there.

  Eddie led the way and they passed in front of an old computer box that looked like the high-tech machines from bad movies in the 1970’s. Its buttons were bulky and clumsily arranged and Ivan wondered what it controlled. He disregarded the device as fast he came across it though. The LED light swung across a corroded and rusted bank of power distribution boxes, four rows of six rusted brick-red boxes that used to help power the facility. Eddie scanned the power source and his light settled on one in particular. The face had been removed and a series of wires had been cut and replaced with new ones. The wiring trailed outward towards the steps leading to the manager’s office.

  Eddie fell into a crouch.

  The hairs on the back of Ivan’s neck stood at attention. He swung his back to the wall and pulled his dual Glocks to bear, keeping one leveled in both directions. Eddie gingerly placed a foot on the metal steps leading towards the management office and Ivan fell in step behind him, keeping one gun trained behind him each step upwards.

  When they neared the top, Eddie caught the end of his gun on the metal rail and the clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the plant. He closed his eyes and winced. They both held their breath and waited for the sound to die away. Ivan felt a bead of sweat roll off his forehead and hang on the tip of his nose. He shook his head and watched the drop trail off and disappear into the darkness below.