A Pair of Second Chances (Ben Jensen Series Book 1)

by Brian Gore

  "The dispatcher told us; Some men came to the garage just before lunch. They asked me about a fare that was picked up at the Heartwood Terrace Condo building late last night. I told them I didn't know, I wasn't on then. They asked which driver had made the pickup. I said I didn't know, but I could look. They threw down a hundred dollar bill and told me to look. I saw in the log, that Sadik you're asking about, made that pickup... I told them that. They wanted to talk to him, I told them he was off then but he'd be back in his cab around four thirty."

  "I asked him again... What men?" Zlatko said. "He looked scared and told me; if I tell you that they will kill me."

  "I told him; Lucky you... you have a choice... Die later, maybe, for telling... or die now, for sure, for not telling! and I jabbed my knife under his chin again... hard. I drew blood." a grim smile creased Zlatko's face. "He is a coward." Zlatco turned his head and spit with contempt on the floor; "He talked."

  "I don't know their names... they're Jamaican I know. I just told them what the log said... Sadik picked up two people... a woman and a boy at... the Heartwood Terrace Condo building. The log didn't say where he took them... he didn't call that in like he is supposed to... I swear!"

  "I told him his story was taking too long and I was getting impatient. He told me they handed him an address on a piece of paper. Told him to send Sadik to that address for a fare, as soon as he came on... and to keep his mouth shut... or he would regret his mistake. The man was shaking, they scared him badly. He thinks they'll kill him for talking."

  "Well" Raif responded. "Sadik hasn't shown up anywhere, so let's find him."

  Zlatco, you and Juka go back out. Talk to every contact you know. Find what ever "Jamaican" outfits you can... where they are... who they are... Understand?"

  "Yes..."

  "Mirza, you ride with them." Raif interupted; "You are area security. Zlatco and Juka, you carry light, Mirza, you carry heavy. All of you take radios. You know what you're doing... go do it."

  Mirza looked to Zlatco and spoke. "Pull your car around back. We can gear up there." The three men walked out without another word. Zlatco and Juka out the front, Mirza going to Raif's car in the back lot.

  Inside, Raif sat at the table... holding a mug of coffee in his hands... eyes focused on a point in the center of the table. Milan and Jadranko sat with their own thoughts. After several silent minutes Raif spoke.

  "We can not begin this, whatever "this" is... with the families in the open. Our homes are known to those who know us. They must be moved, now. We can not operate freely if we must worry about the safety of our women and children."

  "I will wait here. Milan, you and Jadranko go, go now. Give everyone the orders. Take pistols for each wife, and..." he looked at Jadranko and continued; "one for your son, as well as a shotgun. He's only turned 18, but he's old enough Jadranko, he has to be. Tell him this is his mission. He is to take everyone to that camp in Ohio we chose for a rally point. Tell them to take the campers and we will come there for them, when this is done."

  "Milan. Tell them to travel carefully. Watch their speed, and take no risks. Call us, tell Risto to call my phone when they get there. Remind them to keep all weapons out of sight. Do, Nothing, to attract attention... and Milan; We may not be able to stay here, we may not be able to keep working here... rent three storage units, pay a couple months. Park the trucks there. If we must move permanently we can come and get those trucks... We can be plumbers anywhere... yes?"

  Milan had gotten to his feet and moved toward the back door with Jadranko. He just looked back at Raif and nodded.

  "... and Milan, ask Tatjana to back Risto. He's just a boy, but time he walked like a man. The others will make it easier for him, with Tatjana backing him. She'll know what to do."

  Both Milan and Jadranko laughed at that. Milan spoke; "I fear no man Raif... but... if it would keep me out of trouble with Tatjana... I would walk barefoot through a fire! You married a... terror of a woman Raif!"

  "I know, that's why I said 'ask', not 'tell' " Raif smiled; "... but... she let's me pretend to wear the pants, you know?" Raif retorted, with his hands raised palms up. Then with a flip of his hand, he said; "Go now!" The two men continued on out the back door to complete their instructions.

  Raif Bukvik sat in the empty bar alone, drinking his coffee... staring at the cell phone laying on the table top, and seeing into the past.

  Visions of fire, the screaming of incoming artillery shells, shouting voices, faces filled with terror, screaming and wailing women, the oppressive weight of a great sadness filled his thoughts.

  His head bowed under the weight and turned slowly back and forth, his lips compressed into a thin line. He wondered, will this night never end? Will we never find the sun?

  With an air of finality, he stood from the table and nodded sharply as he thought to himself; "If this be our night. If this be our end, we will not go softly... We will not go alone." Raif lifted his mug and downed the last swallow of his coffee. A cold, icy blackness entered his eyes, and a humorless smile crossed his face as he banged the cup back onto the table, and spoke aloud in the empty room; "No... we will not go... ALONE!"

  Chapter 8

  Jamal really didn't have much faith in relying on luck, but his luck seemed to come to his rescue this night. His wait lasted less than an hour before he heard a squalling commotion out on the warehouse floor. He left his chair and started for the door.

  "Jamal!" Musa, the phone guard, shouted as he ran across the warehouse; "The phone, I think it worked!"

  "What you mean, you think it worked? It say something or it don't!" Jamal answered as he came out of the office to see what the hollering was about.

  "Shit Mahn! I almost miss it!" he exclaimed as he ran up; "I look away for only a few seconds, to pour a coffee, and da phone it flashed a place, Mitchell, South Dakota. Den, it go 'way. It don' say nothin' now." he said as he handed the phone to Jamal. "But it did. I saw it Jamal. I don' get the street mahn, it flashed too quick, but it say Mitchell, South Dakota. I see dat for sure!"

  "Good job Musa..." Jamal stood looking at the floor and thinking for a minute. Suddenly he looked up and called to the small group of men standing just outside the break room door; "Terrance!

  Terrance broke away from the group and trotted over to Jamal.

  "Look mahn... we're gon' have to go. I'll need a crew wit me I can trust. That's you and Devon. Musa seems likely. But I still need to get the garbage takin' care of. You know some O' dem boys better than me. You trust any of 'em to take out the garbage, and do it right?"

  "Kai is Ok Jamal... and, he's not here right now, but Rashan is not a fool mahn. He's done a few small jobs for us, he's at his crib right now. He could be here in a few minutes." answered Terrance.

  Jamal looked at his watch... not yet 9:30. "You call him Terrance, you tell him he's got ten minutes to get his backside here.

  "Kai, get over here mahn!" Jamal called to the man standing just outside the break room. He trotted over to where Jamal stood with a solemn look on his face.

  "Look bwoy, Terrance says you're OK... I got no choice. Tonight, we gon' find out. Getting rid of that shit" he gestured at the van; "Is gon' be your job tonight. You fuck it up bwoy... and it'll be your last mistake. You got it?"

  "Yeah Jamal... I swear to you, I won't screw it up mahn!"

  "You'd better not mahn, 'cause it won't be me you got to explain it to. Tyrone will be the one you be talkin' to, understand?"

  "Yeah mahn I understand, I do!"

  "Rashan be here in a little bit. You wait until midnight mahn. You don't leave here until then, not one fucking minute before. You drive to the marina where the boat is at. You should get there 'bout 1 in da morning. You look around careful. You make god damn sure mahn that nobody, I mean not one fucking eyeball sees you load that shit on the boat. You take those chains that Terrance and Devon already put in the van... and the concrete blocks, you wire 'em on tight mahn... they come loose, you find yourself in deep shit mahn
."

  "You run that boat out a good ways. When you get out a mile or so you dump that pistol over the side... you go another two or three miles and put that shit in the water like I tol you. You make sure they don' hold air. You be careful mahn. Don' you leave anything floatin'. You don' ' leave anything behind that somebody can follow back here... You understand?"

  The man nodded solemnly and replied; "We'll do the job right Jamal. No eyes, nothing floating, no tracks. I swear it."

  "Good, now go." and he waved the man away with his hand, as he stepped toward Terrance, waiting a few steps away.

  "Rashan is on his way mahn. What are we gon' do?'?"

  Jamal quietly eyed Terrance for a few seconds. "We gon' take a trip mahn. Get Devon and Musa. Take the Yukon and go to our crib mahn. Each of you, grab a bag for a couple of days, maybe four, and get your backsides back here." he ordered, punching his finger at the ground at his feet." Pick up my bag. It's..."

  "Yeah mahn, I know where you keep your bag ready, I'll grab it." Terrance interrupted.

  "I'm gon' wait here for Rashan. Soon as you get back we leave." Jamal finished and slapped Terrance on the shoulder. "Now go mahn, and hurry."

  Rashan showed up five minutes after the others had pulled out to get their duffels. The new man was anxious to make a good showing. He'd only done a few small odd jobs for this crew, mostly as a messenger and making a couple small deliveries of their product. He'd not yet earned their trust. He had the feeling that this was his big opportunity. If he performed well this night, he'd land himself a position as a full time, soldier, with Tyrone's crew.

  Jamal was just finishing a detailed and, repeated several times, set of instructions, to he and Kai for disposing of the garbage, when Terrance, Devon and Musa returned with the Yukon.... A couple of the men thought it odd how he refused to say the word, bodies. While Devon and Musa waited in the car, Terrance came inside.

  "We're ready Jamal. I fueled the car on our way back."

  "Good Terrance... Good... We got to go... only thing left is to stop at Tyrone's on our way out of town to let him know what's happening. I don' wan' do that on the phone."

  Jamal looked over at Kai on his way out to the Yukon. Pointing at him as he walked he called; "Midnight Kai, you don't move until midnight." then he passed through the doorway, slamming the steel panel behind him.

  For the second time that night the Yukon pulled up to the curb outside the Heartwood Terrace Condos, and for the second time that night Jamal rode the elevator to the eighth floor and walked to the door of Tyrone's apartment.

  A soft knock... followed a few seconds later by another soft set of knocks and Jamal backed away from the door.

  He could see the shadow in the peep hole, as the guard inside, peered through to see who was knocking. Followed by the door quickly opening to reveal two men, pistols in hand standing just inside.

  "Jamal, what you doin' here this late mahn? Tyrone is in a rage mahn, be careful!"

  "Thanks mahn. I think I may cheer him up, a little." Jamal replied.

  Tyrone's bedroom was the first door down the hallway. Jamal knocked softly on the door, and called nervously; "Tyrone!"

  "You better need something good to bother me when I'm with dis woman!" Tyrone's angry voice rasped through the closed door.

  "Tyrone, she turn da phone on. Just for a little while, but she turn it on." The door opened as the sound of his voice faded in the hallway.

  His Boss, standing there naked, while his whore just as naked sat up in the bed behind him, looked at him with lifted eyebrows. "Well? Where da skettle at wi' my bwoy?"

  Uncomfortably, Jamal looked at a point on the door as he answered; "Musa watch the phone like I told him. It flash on for just a few seconds. It say; Mitchell, South Dakota... then it turn off again. Now, it don' say anyting."

  "Don' know why she turnin' it off dis time... but she fucked up." Tyrone grinned. "You take some boys, go get her. She'll be 'roun' dere somewhere! You take the phone with you. You don' find her quick... you watch dat damn phone. She turn it on once... She turn it on again. You can't find her... you ask around. You show her picture. You talk nice, you done it before, you know what to do Jamal."

  "You find dat bitch, Jamal. You find her and you find my bwoy. You bring her ass back here!" Tyrone spit out that last, stabbing his finger at the floor at his feet.

  "I'm taking Devon, Terrance and Musa with me." Jamal told him. "They've got the car ready downstairs now. I'll call, soon as I find anyting Tyrone. I'll call."

  Tyrone nodded and turned back to his whore, slamming the door in Jamal's face behind him, who with a stiff look on his face turned and left the condo, headed for the elevator down the hall.

  The Yukon with the three others was idling at the curb when he exited the building and climbed into the back seat. Musa was driving, Terrance riding as navigator with a map in his lap while Devon and Jamal filled the back seat. Everyone's bags, black duffels all, filled the rear cargo area.

  "Where do I go?" asked Musa. Terrance looked back at Jamal with the question in his eyes.

  Jamal, grinning, simply said; "I-90 west. We gon' to South Dakota bwoys!"

  The Yukon rolled across town, caught I-90 just below its junction with I-55 and rolled north out of town before the highway bent west in Wisconsin, where I-94 split off north at Tomah.

  Jamal told his crew; "Look, she turn dat phone on at 8 at night. She likely at some motel. It should take us eleven hours to get to dat place. It ain't a big place. If we get lucky we get there 'fore she leave in da morning. We find her, bring her back here, Tyrone happy, an' we got no worries. We don' find her... we got Biiig worries. You understand me?"

  They all nodded their understanding, as the driver pressed a little harder on the accelerator sending that big SUV hurtling through the night.

  Musa asked over his shoulder; "What if she leave dat place 'fore we can get there Jamal? What if she get up early an' leave? What we do then?"

  Jamal leaned forward toward the driver, from his place on the passenger side of the rear seat; " We keep lookng Musa, we keep looking... and Musa? Slow down Mahn. Just keep it legal. We need to hurry, but we don' wan' no cops screwin' with us, and slowin' us down... not tonight... understand?" "Ya Mahn! Sorry." Musa grinned back at him, easing up just a bit on the throttle.

  The miles rolled past with the reflections of street lights and billboards sliding down the sides of the big rig as it rumbled through the darkness. Inside its riders dozed through the miles and changed drivers every hundred miles or so, and refueling every two hundred as soon as the opportunity presented.

  "Jamal, why we stoppin' for gas so much? The tank is bigger than that Mahn! I thought we were in a hurry to get there? "Devon wondered.

  "Because, fool, we drivin' all night. I don' know if dere gon be a fuel station open when we have to have it. I don' wan' to run out. So we keep the damn thing as full as we can, got it?"

  "Ya Jamal. I didn't think like dat." Devon answered sheepishly turning back to his window to look out into the darkness.

  All of the men took their turn behind the wheel, all except for Jamal. He maintained his position of command, in the back seat.

  They made their last fuel and coffee stop at Sioux Falls before heading on to Mitchell where Terrance, now driving again, turned the wheel to take the Yukon down the off ramp, and enter the east side of town.

  "There's only a few motels here. It's not that big a town. Terrance and Devon, you watch out your side, Musa, you look out this side with me. You know who you're lookin' for. You see a blond woman an' a lil' boy, any blond woman, you holler."

  They rolled slowly down the main drag through town, four sets of dark eyes watching for anything, any one, that resembled their prey. Their search was just passing the center of town as a little red Saturn on the west side of town, ran up the on ramp to I-90, and rolled west out of sight.

  Chapter 9

  Zlatco had found the information they needed with little difficulty. A few
hours with their ears to the ground had turned up the information they were looking for. A crew of Jamaicans throwing their weight around in Chicago, made a lot more waves than a small group of expatriate Bosnians; especially, if the Bosnians went to great pains to blend in and remain, inconspicuous.

  Zlatco and Mirza returned just after dark with what they'd discovered from their reconnaissance. Milan and Jadranko had returned from their task a few hours earlier.

  The word on the street was that the only Jamaican outfit, of any consequence, was a crew run by a Jamaican named Tyrone who lived in a High Class condo, but ran his operation out of a warehouse in a run down industrial area just below I-90.

  Zlatco had taken the liberty to post Juka in a deserted building across the street from that warehouse, to keep watch, while he returned with his report. Juka was posted with the orders to call Zlatco if anything happened, anything at all, and for God's sake, stay out of sight!

  Milan reported that the Families were in the motorhomes, and the three rigs were headed for Ohio under the watchful guard of Jadranko's son, Risto. The work trucks had been secured in three rented storage units as directed. He said the last as he jingled the keys to the sheds in his hand. "The truck keys he said, I left in the glove box of each truck."

  "Good." Raif commended them all; "You did good, all of you... now... again, we wait."

  With some good natured teasing of Jadranko about his being the father of a pup who barks like a big dog, the five men settled into drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and playing cards around the big table in the center of the room; as they waited for word from Juka.

  Their wait was not long.

  At 8:45 Zlatco's Phone rang. Juka was calling in with a report of activity around the warehouse. He'd seen a white van pull into the building and the door close behind it. A black Yukon was coming and going. There were a half dozen men in the building, maybe more, a couple coming and going, but he'd seen no sign of Sadik.