Annihilate Them

by Christina Ross

  “They open,” she said as people hurried past them on the sidewalk. The day was bright and sunny, but cool for late March. It was the morning rush, and cars were flashing past them on the street. “How lucky are we?”

  “Depends,” Carlo said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Look at how many offices there are—they can’t all be leased. Certainly, a few of them are available. If even one of them is, we’re good. We can snipe from there.”

  “We don’t have sniper rifles, Gia,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Carlo, this is the United States, the country where anyone can have any assault weapon they want just for the asking. No background checks needed. And you already know what I want—the ‘Big Mac.’”

  “The McMillan Tac 50?” he said.

  “One of the best. Incredibly accurate, low recoil, and battle tested. It has the power to punch through a tank, it has one of the longest confirmed kills on record, and most importantly, it has the kind of precision necessary to take out an individual.” She shrugged. “Or in our case—individuals. We’ll need two of them. I’ll take Jennifer, and you can take Alex. Unless you’d rather take the woman...” she said.

  He smiled at her. “I’m no misogynist,” he said.

  “If you were, I’d kick your ass. Alex is yours.”

  “Fine. But where do we get the guns? And how do we get inside that building?”

  “Mario can make it happen for us,” she said. “But we’ll need to pay plenty for that particular favor, not that I care. Rowe is paying us millions for the Wenns. We just need to offer Mario a fair sum of money to get us what we need.”

  “And if he can’t?”

  “Then we rethink everything,” she said. “But he’ll deliver. In this economy, there’s no way that all of those offices are leased. As for the guns? We can probably buy them at a Wal-Mart.”

  TURNED OUT THEY COULDN’T. In fact, it turned out that they couldn’t find that particular weapon anywhere they looked.

  Even in New Jersey. What they did find—and steal—there was a black Nissan Murano SUV, which was such a popular vehicle, it never would stand out on the streets. It was the perfect ride—just large enough to sweep Janice Jones inside, and it had dark tinted windows, which would help them out in obvious ways when they took her.

  When they returned to Manhattan and Gia called Mario, she told him what they needed.

  “I might be able to get you into that building, but the McMillans will be more difficult,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because those guns are hard to come by.”

  “Tell me about it—we’ve had zero luck. If you can get us into that building and get us those guns—with full rounds of ammunition to accompany them—I’ll pay you a hundred thousand dollars, Mario.”

  “A hundred thousand dollars?” he said in surprise. “Gia, I love you as much as I loved your Uncle Niccolo, but what you’re proposing is something that could send me away for years if I get caught. It’s five hundred thousand dollars or it’s not happening. If you agree to that, I’ll see if I can make this happen for you.”

  “Five hundred thousand?” she said as Carlo shot her a look.

  “I’d do it for less if I could, but much of that money won’t be going into my pockets. To make all of this happen, I’m going to need a team to get it done as quickly as you want it done. That money will need to be spread around to other people’s pockets.”

  She could understand that, so she relented. “Then do what you need to do,” she said. “But before you act or promise anyone any kind of money, make certain that the office they choose faces the Stone Foundation. That’s critical. Once you’ve cleared that, and if you can make certain that we’ll get the guns, go forward with all of it, and we’ll pay your fee.”

  “Done,” he said.

  “Thank you again, Mario. I love you more than you know.”

  “I know you do, kid. But I worry. Whatever job you’re working sounds big—almost too big. In fact, it seems like it keeps getting bigger. Are you sure you and Carlo can handle this?”

  “I’m not going to lie,” she said to him. “This one is going to be tight.”

  “Don’t risk your freedom for money, Gia.”

  “I’d never do that. I’ve admitted that it’s going to be tight, but I also believe that we can pull this off. I just need those weapons, Mario. And if any of this is going to work, I must have an office that directly faces the Stone Foundation. Beyond that? I need to get into that office before Friday so Carlo and I can continue to stake out the area and put plans into place. How soon can you get back to me on this?”

  “Give me a few hours,” he said. “I’ll let you know by afternoon.”

  “Thank you, Mario.”

  “Just get through this, OK? You’re giving me an ulcer. I don’t know what you are up to, and I don’t want to know, but I will be honest with you—I’m more concerned now than I’ve ever been when it comes to you two.”

  SINCE NEITHER HAD SEEN the warehouse Mario had secured for them, they decided to drive to Avenue C and East 6th Street to have a look at it.

  When they arrived, they came upon a dilapidated, narrow brick building with three floors that seemed to be sagging in the sun, as if it were exhausted from so many years of neglect. The building was in such a state of disarray, it looked abandoned to them, though Gia knew that in this rough part of the city, one could never be sure.

  She looked at the front of the building. On its left side was a red door, over which was a metallic light hanging by wires. To the door’s right was the warehouse’s entrance, which consisted of a gray garage door with a sign above it that said “Vinny’s Auto Repair.” Spaypainted on the door were four words in bright yellow letters: “24-HOUR ACTIVE DRIVEWAY.”

  Beneath that was three other words spraypainted in black: “FUCK YOU, VINNY!”

  Since this part of the city had little if any life to it, Carlo was able to stop in front of the building so they could assess it without holding up traffic.

  “This is it?” he asked incredulously.

  “Apparently so.” She removed the remote Mario had delivered to them from her pants pocket, and pressed a button. With a rattle and a squeal, the garage door shook and then slowly started to roll up and open.

  “At least there’s electricity,” Carlo said.

  “The question I want answered is whether anyone is living upstairs. Drive inside. I’m calling Mario now.”

  When they were inside and the garage door started to close behind them, they got out of the car and Carlo hit a light switch. Above them, long, iridescent bulbs flickered and buzzed to life, casting the place into an uneasy blue glow that made it seem like a morgue. Gia held the phone to her ear and waited for Mario to answer. It was a moment before he did.

  “Who lives upstairs?” she asked him.

  “Nobody lives in that building,” he said. “Do you really think I’d do that to you?”

  “The place is a shithole.”

  “You expected a palace?”

  “What happened to Vinny?” she asked.

  “Who the fuck is Vinny?”

  “Apparently, he used to own this joint. Either that, or he leased it. This once was ‘Vinny’s Auto Repair Shop.’”

  “Vinny’s dead for all I know.”

  “Then who keeps the lights on?”

  “You know I can’t tell you who owns it, Gia. Let’s just say that they’ve kept the lights on for a reason.”

  And then she knew.

  “This place is for sale, isn’t it?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  “So it is,” she said.

  “The person who owns the place is a friend of mine. He’s getting a chunk of your five hundred grand, and knows not to let anyone near it for the next two weeks. Don’t worry about it. I don’t know what you plan on doing there, but you need to leave it as you found it.”

  She moved ahead of the SUV and looked around her. �
�Is there a washroom in here?”

  “How the hell would I know—and why would you even need one?”

  “Take a guess, Mario.”

  “Fuck me,” he said. “Look, just make sure that the place is clean when you leave it, Gia. And I mean clean.”

  “Got it.”

  “Speaking of getting it, I got you what you asked for earlier.”

  “Which part?”

  “The lease situation.”

  “That quick?”

  “The shit I can do when I’m motivated,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mario. I’ll transfer the money into your account when I get back to our apartment. When can we see the office space?”

  “When do you want to see it?”

  “Tomorrow? Noon?”

  “Done. Be there at eleven fifty-five. My man knows what you look like—he’ll seek you out on the sidewalk. And guess what? He’s also going to give you two backpacks, in which will be the other items you requested.”

  “The guns?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I appreciate all of your help—I really do, Mario.”

  “Need anything else from me?”

  She turned away from her brother when Mario said that, and ran her fingers through her hair as she crossed over to a brick wall. Everything they had set into motion had suddenly just become very real to her. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t have butterflies in her gut right now. She looked around the bleak warehouse and said in a low voice, “Maybe a ‘good luck’?”

  His voice became stern. Concerned. “Whatever you’re doing, you can back out now, Gia.”

  “Uncle Niccolo never quit anything he committed to, Mario. Neither have I. Ever. Same goes for Carlo. We’ll get through this.”

  “Don’t get in over your head. I’m telling you that it’s not worth it. There will be other jobs.”

  “Not many as challenging or as well-paying as this. I’m pushing myself. So is Carlo. Together, we’ll become better. Stronger. Please know that I’ve got this planned down to the dime—I promise.” Since they weren’t on a secure line, she started to talk in code just as she always did whenever she needed to. “Here’s what you don’t know. What happened a few days ago? The event that took place at a certain Park Avenue mansion that got worldwide news? We did that. And if we can do that, we can do more.”

  “Jesus, Gia—what the fuck were you thinking? Have you paid attention to the papers? To CNN? They’ve got security images of you two.”

  “And of all people, you should have recognized us, but you didn’t because we were wearing masks. So? How are they going to figure it out if even you couldn’t?”

  “I don’t like this,” he said.

  “It’s going to be fine because it has to be fine.”

  “What kind of logic is that?”

  “My logic. But, look—I need to run. Carlo and I will be there tomorrow at eleven fifty-five. And thank you, Mario. This will all be behind us in a few days, and then Carlo and I will be on a beach somewhere—me with some kind of tropical drink in my hand, and Carlo likely fighting off his share of women. You’ll see, because I’ll be in touch with you then. I love you,” she said again, but this time with an unexpected trace of emotion in her voice. And then, before he could say anything more, she severed the connection.

  “Gia,” Carlo said.

  Her back was to him. Tears stung her eyes. She shoved the phone into her pants pocket and shook out her hair in an effort to clear her head. Never had Mario warned her about a job as much as he had about this job. What did he see that she wasn’t seeing? A flaw in her? In Carlo? The fact that he was doubting her was starting to unnerve her. He’d never doubted her before.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Are you OK?”

  She blinked away the tears from her eyes and turned to face her brother with a neutral expression. “I’m fine. Come on—we should have a look around.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I said that we should have a look around.”

  When she barked out those words, he backed down and turned to glance around the space. “Doesn’t look like there’s much to look at,” he said as they moved around.

  “All I care about is whether there’s a bathroom of some sort in here. Or a hose. There’s a drain in the floor over here, so there must be a hose. Look for one.”

  “It’s here,” he said as he lifted a black hose off a hook on the wall to his left.

  “Turn it on and see if we have water.”

  They did.

  “Well, thank God for that,” she said.

  “What’s that door behind you?”

  She turned to it, opened it, and turned on a light. “Storage room,” she said. “Filled with tools and auto parts. Runs the length of the building, which is good. Because if Jones starts to scream before Rowe slices her throat, we’re going to need that buffer.”

  She moved deeper into the space. “There’s also a bathroom in here,” she called out. “And enough spider webs to freak even me out.”

  “Pussy.”

  “Hilarious,” she said, but she was grateful to him because he’d just put her back into herself.

  “Is there a chair of some sort in there?”

  “Yeah, there’s a chair.”

  “Bring it out. She’s going to have to sit down on something.”

  Gia brought out an old, industrial-looking metal chair that looked as if it had been made in the forties.

  “How sturdy is it?” he asked.

  She sat down on it and tried to wiggle it beneath her. “Iron Block.”

  “I’m assuming we’re going to cuff her to it?”

  “How else are we going to contain her? We’re also going to have to rope her feet to the chair, so let’s put buying rope on our things-to-do list. And then that sick son of a bitch can say whatever he wants to say to her before he cuts her.”

  “We’re also going to need duct tape, Gia.”

  “To slap a piece over her mouth before he kills her? Add it to the list.”

  “How do you see us getting her into the Murano? There will be people around us—you know that. If we fuck this up and some dude decides that he wants to be a hero in a city that’s filled with heroes, we could lose. Soon, we need to start discussing how we get her into that car. We’re just days away from all of this shit going down, and we still haven’t even talked about a plan when it comes to her.”

  As Gia walked over to him, she felt stronger than she had when she was speaking to Mario. Punchier. More in control. More willing to believe in herself and what she and her brother could do.

  She pulled her hair high above her head, and let it fall around her shoulders as the warehouse’s lighting flickered its harsh, bluish hues all around her. The wariness in her brother’s eyes become acute when she stopped before him, looked up at him, and then traced a finger along the sharp lines of his strong, defined jaw.

  “Don’t you know?” she asked in a whisper.

  “Stop fucking around, Gia.”

  She moved her finger down his sculpted chest and corded abs before she stopped just above his crotch. “I’m not fucking around.”

  “The hell you aren’t.”

  “You weren’t born a stud for no reason, Carlo. You have the face of a god and the kind of body that gods bow down to. We’re going to use you—all of you. We’re going to use every physical gift you were born with, and Jones is going to take the bait. She is going to fall for all of it, because how could she possibly resist someone who looks like you? You’ll see. You don’t know it yet, but get ready for what’s to come, little brother, because you’re going to be the beginning of her undoing in ways that neither of you saw coming.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  ON FRIDAY MORNING, the day before the Stone Foundation event, Gia and Carlo set out again to follow Janice Jones, just as they had for the past two previous mornings.

  As far as Gia was concerned, this was the last time for them to n
ail down exactly how to ambush her when they acted upon her the following morning.

  And they couldn’t fuck it up.

  Since speaking to Mario in the warehouse, the doubt in his voice had haunted and angered her. There could be no getting any of this wrong, so she and Carlo would do all that they could do in these next final hours to make certain that everything went right.

  Not only had they been following Jones these past three days to make certain that nothing had changed in her schedule, but they’d also spent a considerable amount of time at the office Mario had leased for them. The TAC 50 turned out to be the perfect sniper rifle for this sort of event, particularly because of its powerful scope and low recoil. The guns had been assembled and were waiting for them to use when Saturday evening came around.

  But now, it was all about Jones, whom Gia thought must be something of a machine since she went to the gym at the same time every day like clockwork—nine o’clock sharp. Never missed a beat.

  This was the first time they’d taken the SUV to see how their plan might go down in real time. And what Gia already wasn’t liking was that, as March began its slow fade into April and the temperatures were beginning to increase, more people appeared to be on the sidewalks than there had been just a few short days ago, when they first started following Jones.

  Was that just Gia’s imagination? It could be, though she doubted it. West Forty-Third Street, where they were parked now, watching Jones near them in the rearview mirror—her happy little ponytail bouncing just as it always did—seemed livelier to her, which naturally concerned her.

  The fewer people who were near Jones when Carlo took her tomorrow morning, the better.

  “She’s about to come upon us,” Gia said. “Can you see her?”

  Carlo had his sun visor down. As he peered into the mirror on the back of it, he nodded. “I see her—how can you miss her? Are those tits of hers even real?”

  “She’s a former stripper, Carlo, so I doubt it. But please don’t pop a boner on me now, OK? I need you to focus.”

  “I am focused.”

  “Good,” she said just as Janice was nearly upon them. “Today is tomorrow morning. What do you do?”