Path of Ranger: Volume 1

by RJ

  Still, his appearance wasn’t good enough to drive around the city. The chance to be checked by the police during the curfew was too big, especially near the airport. JB opened a middle glove box, from which he took a paper bag with brand new wide t-shirt, blue jeans, blue ‘Los Angeles Dodgers’ baseball cap and a pack of wipes. He always kept as much emergency supplies as he could, wherever he could.

  The big guy looked at himself in the side mirror, his face and neck were covered in blood. He pulled out a couple of wipes from the pack to start rubbing the skin, cleaning up the dry stains of blood and filth. Then he took an antiseptic and a handkerchief from the same glove box. He wet the hanky with medicine to process all of the wounds as a matter of stopping blood and prevention of infection. After the dirt had been cleaned out, JB looked like a regular citizen once again. Although he still had those visible bruises on the upper forehead and the shoulders. He used a new white do-rag to cover his head and a t-shirt to take care of the rest of his body. The biker pants were replaced with a pair of blue jeans. He felt more free and comfy right away. The old pants went under the rear seat; they were too precious for him to trash them out. As for the rest of the old clothes, he put them into the paper bag and left it on the ground for the time being.

  The red leather gumshoes that he wore were in extreme need of cleaning too. It took him about five minutes and every last wipe he had left to clean up those shoes. When everything was ready, JB picked up the paper bag, put the used wipes inside and walked to the nearest trash can. He dropped the bag into the trash, poured antiseptic over it and lit that all up with couple of matches. The flames burst upwards.

  Before rolling on, JB looked under the front seat, the gray bag with cash was there, just like had he left it. He closed the door and went around the truck for the driver seat. After getting in the gangster locked all doors instantly to make sure of his safety. The garage was lit, but the present illumination wasn’t nearly enough to see everything. So JB turned on the headlights to look at the car, which he suspected to be watching him. Nobody was in there, or nearby. He was alone.

  Bridgers rubbed his eyelids to take off some tension in the eyes. He was tired. He looked up again and prepared himself for the movement. The SUV’s interior lights faded and driver slightly pressed on the gas pedal. The truck moved forward.

  The white Cadillac Escalade went out of underground parking space. It slowly followed the road, JB was watching the rearview mirror expecting the tail behind him. But after a half of block was passed the mystery follower of JB’s imagination didn’t show up. No matter how much the paranoia was proven wrong, those thoughts wouldn’t go away easily. He considered the possibility that the spy might have left the car outside and began following him in the garage on feet. Going straight to the airport could bring the tail with him. Paranoia kept thriving. He didn’t have much time though, the plane had to launch in two hours. It was the only flight that could guarantee the gangster safety. Search-free and with his guy inside.

  The bypass road around the city was a whole different thing than inner streets. It was full of motion. All entrances were blocked, none could ride in, only out. All who arrived at the city border had to turn back or wait while the curfew to be over. JB along with a dozen of other cars reached the roadblock. The feeling of insecurity came back to him.

  At first the roadblock seemed as quite a dangerous obstacle on his way to the freedom, the gangster supposed that vehicles were searched there. But after a few cars passed it quickly, he saw that it was just a traffic control.

  Some more time still had left. JB had to use it effectively. So he tried to accomplish two objectives at once: get to the destination faster and to once more make sure if there anyone was following him. The highway was the fastest way to the airport. It was just the place to speed up and look if there anyone would do the same. JB thought of it as a good plan, but instantly he doubted himself and his suspicious imagination. Maybe there was no tail…

  Such a nervousness was a part of Bridgers his whole life. And he had enough reasons for it. He moved to LA at a young age and soon walked into a cold world of crime. Then he went up among other gangsters, all the way to leading the entire gang. He had to keep that thin balance between life and death, not only his own but his people’s too. Every day brought new challenges, new troubles, new ways of doing things. Many years he was under lots of pressure, and most of them he remained just a teenager. A few scars on his personality were left during those years.

  After giving up the business and all the pressure that came with it, JB felt an abyss inside. For the first time in years he was one step away from acquiring real freedom. But the pressure became a drug for him, and a freedom felt as something alien and strange. His hand was reaching to the pistol grip, and his soul was tearing towards Lower Compton, which meant a genuine home to him. He was ready to give up his life for it with no second thought. Maybe that psychological aspect was the reason for paranoia. Subconsciously JB didn’t want to leave his old dangerous life, full of adventures, for which according to his opinion he was born for.

  With some more time of thinking it through JB managed to drive all those thoughts into the background and concentrate on getting out of the city. He finally reached the highway.

  The highway wasn’t as dense as the bypass road was. The traffic there appeared to be more or less usual, enough space for maneuvers. On the turn to the highway the big guy watched the rear view mirror carefully. He was expecting that another suspicious Chevy would follow him. But quite a few cars went the same way. The trick didn’t work.

  Jerry took the slowest right lane and lowered the speed for other cars to outrun him so that the potential followers would have to stay with him. Some vehicles did exactly as he saw, yet lots of others kept moving behind. He tried to look closer at some of the cars, but it wasn’t effective to do so using a mirror. The lighting wouldn’t suffice, and neither would his position. All he saw were bright headlights and dark silhouettes, he wasn’t able to distinguish any of the details.

  After an unsuccessful first try, JB had to stick to the original plan. He had nearly ten miles left to his destination. That distance was essential. The truck gradually switched lanes from the most right one to the middle. The road ahead was clean, not a single car in his lane. Occasionally he checked the mirror to see if there any vehicle was mimicking his behavior. He saw nothing.

  The gangster hardened his wheel grip and stepped on the gas. The transmission switched up, the engine pleasantly roared. He kept speeding up, and the huge SUV sailed through the road, going around other cars from one lane to another. When his speed reached ninety miles per hour, the engine’s sound got more aggressive. For a couple minutes, the white Cadillac was riding that fast. Jerry had so much fun so he almost forgot why he had started that. He pressed the gas even more and the car went over one hundred ten miles per hour. Bridgers looked in the rear view mirror to see if there was any car chasing him. Still nothing.

  With only a few miles left until the airport, it was time to drop the speed. Jerry was almost convinced that he hadn’t been followed after all. He released the pedal, the SUV went slower. When getting ready for the turn he took the right lane and almost exhaled with relief when, out from nowhere, the gray Ford ran by him. Soon after passing JB’s truck, it slowed down sharply to get back behind the Caddie.

  “Got ya!” JB said with pleasure looking in the mirror.

  It seemed like his paranoia was justified after all. Some people were following the gangster.

  The rest of the distance to the turn JB was studying that car. There was nothing special about it, just an old gray Ford sedan. There were three black men inside, including the driver. It was time to deal with them.

  Just before the turn to the airport JB stepped on the gas and passed by it. The Ford kept up with him. Suddenly, the SUV took the next turn that came soon after the one to the airport. He didn’t use his turn signal, so the maneuver appeared quite unexpected. The following car jamme
d on the brakes to skid into the same turn. JB smirked. He started enjoying the game, something one couldn’t say about his opponents. The driving style of the other driver showed signs of their nervousness. The big guy pressed the gas abruptly to gain distance. His followers were already aware of his knowledge that he was being chased, so there were no more reasons to pretend. The foe sped up.

  With a short avulsion the Cadillac was running on the narrow road. JB wasn’t exactly sure what to do next, but he felt quite confident in an improvisation.

  There was nothing around, just a road in a desert. Some small city shined with lights several miles ahead. He could get there to try to confuse the ‘tail’ and get away, but he didn’t have much time.

  What should I do?

  That question was bothering him as an annoying scratch inside his head. Three against one. If he tried to counter them directly the chances to win were too weak. A single body armor vest wouldn’t save him from a headshot.

  I need to get some advantage…

  He saw a small road cafe that lay in a half mile ahead. It was at least something, a possibility to hide. Even if it wasn’t good for permanent cover it would suffice for another unexpected maneuver. There was a lawn in front of it, and a large architectural sign right near the road. Right between the grass and the logo there was an entry to the backyard parking lot. The whole area itself was fenced off from the desert with a high brick wall, all except the road. A closed narrow space, which looked perfect for JB’s upcoming plan.

  Only about three hundred yards left. JB checked a rear view mirror, the Ford was catching up. The gangster stepped on the gas, his speed grew. And soon after, right before the turn, he used the handbrake to make a sharp turn. The SUV drifted inside, leaving a cloud of smoke and a black trail behind it. The car disappeared behind the wall.

  “You saw that? Yo, hustle up! Don’t let him bail!” one of the passengers shouted at the Ford’s driver.

  The Ford made the same turn. It performed as wide an arc as the road allowed and, keeping the high speed, went through the entrance. The next turn to the left led to parking lot itself. The gray car rushed right there, exactly what JB wanted them to do.

  He had used the time of his advantage to turn around his Escalade inside the parking lot. There was no other way out. Bridgers picked a better position to wait for the tail. Then he switched the gears to the lowest level for an abrupt start and began stalling on the spot to take the most speed on the launch. These vehicles sounded quite differently, enough for JB to recognize Ford’s entrance. As soon as he heard the braking sound from around the corner he released the handbrake handle. The Escalade rushed forward. When the pursuers took the last turn, the first thing they saw was a huge SUV coming at them. The driver panicked and in an attempt to avoid a collision he turned the wheel once more. The Ford crashed into the restaurant’s ramp.

  The strangers were trapped, there was no time to run and only a split second was separating them from the hit. The truck was supposed to smash the smaller vehicle from the side. But all the bandits felt was a slight bump. Of course, because of intensity of the situation they didn’t get what happened at once.

  Soon after JB had seen the other car, he hit the brakes. He never planned to smash them, just wanted to create the appearance of it. He wanted them to trap themselves. And then he just pressed the Ford against the wall with his Escalade. All doors were blocked, they had nowhere to go.

  Bridgers fixed his truck in that position and went out. He looked pissed when walking to the sedan, the gun in his hand wasn’t good news either. He wanted to let them know from the very start that he wasn’t toying around. The driver turned up his head from the wheel, his nose was broken, the face got bruised, and his blood spilled all over it. The first thing he saw after his vision cleared up was his companion that sat still staring at the white thug through the windshield.

  JB leaned against the ramp into which the car crashed. He was up to giving them a minute to recover. The Desert Eagle shined with its silver gloss in his hand. The big guy stood still, never made a sound, just staring at those in the broken car. They were almost ready to have that talk.

  It was dark there, no one went out of the cafe yet, but JB needed to hurry, someone might call the police already. Finally, he walked to the front passenger window. Knocked on the glass with the gun lightly. The bandit inside looked very intimidated, he lowered the window. Jerry down bent a bit for them to have a better look at him, he was confident that none of them would try using a gun. At least not at once.

  “Do you hear me?” JB asked the guy.

  “Yes,” barely moving his jaw the man answered.

  He spoke weak and his head motions looked delayed. The overall confusion seemed to be an obvious symptom of concussion.

  “Who sent you to kill me?”

  “Kill you? You misunderstood…”

  “Don’t play with me, boy.”

  “Big Dog… He…” the guy painfully reached down to the pocket.

  “Dog? Can’t be. He wouldn’t betray me,” JB looked lost.

  “Big Dog sent us to look over you. To warn you that D-Kay put a price on you. He wanted you to have this.”

  The man slowly stretched out his hand with something inside his grip. It was a golden chain with a small cross. He recognized it, because it was his present to Dog back in the days.

  “Dog! What did he do? Where is he?” Jerry threw the questions nervously.

  “D-Kay knows where and when your flight is gonna be. Boss went there to meet you. To make sure of your safety.”

  It was enough for JB, he rushed to his vehicle. The car moved backwards and went on right away. He looked at the crashed car with helpless men inside for the last time, it disappointed him even more. If Dog’s crew was entirely made of people like that, then he had a bit of a problem. JB had to get to the airport as fast as he could.

  While riding he thought of the reasons why Dog just hadn’t called. Then he remembered that his phone was somewhere swimming with the jacket.

  One after another he was switching the lanes, swinging all over the road, speeding out other cars. The speedometer showed above the one hundred miles per hour already, but the gangster didn’t care. His only objective was to get to the airport as soon as it was possible. Those few miles felt for Bridgers like an eternity.

  The airport showed up in couple of minutes. Bridgers was going to be there soon. If anything, one thing he knew for certain: either he was just in time or he was fatally late.

  After passing by the main terminal he turned to the technical wing to get straight to the runways area. He drove slowly there to avoid unwanted attention. The Escalade arrived at the entrance to a sector of industrial hangars.

  There was a checkpoint on the way in. Of course it wasn’t nearly as dangerous as at the terminals, but still, JB had one of the most dangerous guns on him. If they were going to go that far with inspection, it could be a problem. Riding slowly to the barrier he stopped so his window was against the guard booth.

  JB took a pile of papers to pass it to the inspector from the booth. Sure thing, the papers were fake, but the flight was real. It was meant to carry military and humanitarian aid to Ukraine’s army. So the inspection had to be simplified, because of the urgency. The inspector briefly looked over the papers and returned them to the owner. Then he raised the barrier. The path was wide open. Still, the main check was ahead.

  The strong silhouette of the gangster covered the light vest just fine, but the gun behind him could be a problem. They didn’t have a metal detector there, yet if he was to leave the car, they would notice that pistol.

  Following the guard’s signs the gangster slowly drove into airport’s area and parked his car where he was shown to. Bridgers noticed via the mirror that two inspectors were closing in. He checked the car’s interior briefly for anything to be illegal or suspicious. Nothing was there, except the silvery box with ammo and a bag full of cash. JB hurried to take a hologram protected sticker
from the glove compartment to glue it on the box. Then he put the box and the bag on front passenger’s seat near him.

  The security came to the front doors, one of them knocked on the window. JB went out. He wasn’t dressed as a courier and the car was too expensive, but he supposed that those people might have seen way stranger things, it was California after all. One thing he didn’t want for them to see was his precious chain, so he had tucked it under the t-shirt earlier.

  “Good evening, officers. What a wonderful weather, isn’t it?” he smiled with all thirty-two that he had. Too bad that the mask covered that joyful smile.

  “Good night to you, sir. Please, put down your mask. You can breathe freely here.”

  JB held his breath and moved the respirator away to show his face. The inspector nodded. The big guy exhaled.

  “Open the trunk and all of the doors,” the other inspector asked.

  “Sure, will do,” JB smiled once more.

  He promptly went around the car to follow the instructions. The officers looked inside, checked the compartments, the space under the seats, the spare tire and the sheathing. But they never touched the bag or the box.

  “Where are you heading, sir?”

  “Kiev, Ukraine.”

  “What are you transporting?”

  “Me personally? The box and the bag, right there," Jerry nodded at those items. "And I guess there is some military stuff on that plane too.”

  “What’s inside?” the officer came closer to the bag.

  “An express delivery. Ordered by our pharmacy company. We transport some of our equipment to the UA’s veterinary research center. I think they are studying some virus, or something.”

  “What virus?”

  The big guy came closer to them, looked around as he was going to reveal a big secret and went on very quietly, almost whispering.

  “This is classified, so if anything – I said nothing.”