by Victor Zugg
Tiff looked up at Topper.
“I want your people to know what happened. They’ll come looking for you.”
Topper motioned to his three men. They stepped forward and jerked Tiff to her feet.
“Tie the bitch up, we’re taking her in the Hummer.”
Tiff struggled to stay next to Elliot, but the men dragged her toward the Hummer. Two held her while the third man rummaged in the back of the Hummer. He found some cord and wrapped it around Tiff’s wrists pulled behind her back.
She kept her eye on Elliot who was pressing the gauze against the wound.
“Let them know where to find us, detective,” Topper said in a calm voice. “We’ll be waiting.”
Elliot stared up at Topper but didn’t say anything. Tiff kept her eyes locked on Elliot as the three men pulled her into the back of the Hummer where she could no longer see Elliot.
She then saw Topper slide into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and pulled away.
The only thing Tiff could think about was Elliot lying on the ground bleeding, and she wondered if she would ever see him again. She wondered if she would see any of her friends again.
***
“Where the hell are they; I’m getting hungry,” Chet said, as he looked out the hotel window.
“I hear them coming down the hall,” Sam said, as he stepped to the door.
Sam opened the door and paused as his brain registered the scene. Elliot was partially bent over. His face grimaced with pain. And his left arm dripped blood.
Sam grabbed Elliot by his good arm and helped him into the room. “What the hell happened?”
Chet rushed into the hallway, looked up and down the hall, and then turned back into the room. “Where’s Tiff?”
Elliot maintained pressure on his shoulder as Sam helped him sit on the edge of the bed. “They took her.”
“Who took her?” Chet yelled.
“They call him Topper. He’s number two with the Bloods around here. He works for a psycho they call Toothpick.”
“Toothpick?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, they all seem to have a nickname,” Elliot said. “Toothpick is actually fairly husky except for his skinny legs. Thus the nickname.”
“Was she okay when you last saw her?” Chet asked.
“Yeah, they won’t hurt her until they’re done with all of us.”
“Why did they take Tiff instead of just shooting both of you dead?” Sam asked.
“Because they know we’ll come for her,” Elliot replied. “They obviously want all of us.”
Sam stood straight. “Payback.”
Elliot grimaced with pain as he tried to move his shoulder. “Correct. Toothpick probably watched as we disrupted his plans today.”
“Do you know where to find him?” Chet asked.
“I Do,” Elliot replied.
Sam lifted Elliot to a standing position. “First thing is to get you to the hospital. You can tell us on the way.”
***
“He’s not going anywhere right now,” the doctor said, as he put the finishing touches on the bandages to Elliot’s arm. An IV line led from a bag of clear liquid down to Elliot’s arm. “He’s lucky there’s no major damage.”
Sam rubbed his entire face with his hand and then stared at Elliot. “Tell us again where we can find this Toothpick guy.”
“Without me, you won’t get within three blocks,” Elliot responded.
“Clearly, you won’t be going,” Sam said.
Lieutenant Harvey walked up. “What happen?”
“Some guy named Toothpick happened,” Chet said. “He shot Elliot here and took Tiff.”
“Toothpick—the Bloods?” Harvey asked.
“That’s the one,” Elliot replied.
“Why did they leave you alive?”
“Because they want us all—the four of us,” Elliot said. “They probably blame us more than any others for the massacre they suffered. They took Tiff knowing we’d come after her.”
“I’ll round up some crews and we’ll take the mounted Hummers,” Harvey said. “Captain Jeffries is supervising the load up but I’m sure he can spare some men for a good cause.”
“If they see anyone other than us three, they’ll kill Tiff,” Elliot said. “The only thing we’ll find is her dead body.”
“It doesn’t look like you’re in any shape to travel,” Sam said.
Elliot started to rise up as he reached for the IV needle stuck in his arm. “Watch me.”
The doctor placed his hand on Elliot’s chest and pushed him back down to the gurney. “If you try to move, you’ll start bleeding again.”
Elliot stopped struggling against the doctor and appeared to relax a bit.
“What about tomorrow morning?” Sam asked. “Your unit is supposed to pull out.”
The doctor turned to Sam. “We need to play that by ear. Let’s see how he’s doing in the morning.”
Sam patted Elliot on his good shoulder. “Rest easy my friend. We need time to figure this out, so you might as well remain here for now.”
Chet stepped closer to the gurney. “Elliot, what kind of reception can we expect?”
“Toothpick will have enough men to do the job. But he’s probably thin on manpower. He lost a bunch here. Plus, he needs men at the food distribution centers.”
“How many?” Chet asked.
“He probably has ten or twelve with him. That includes Topper—the one who shot me and took Tiff.”
“How much time do we have?” Harvey asked.
“They know I needed treatment. My best guess… if they don’t see us approaching by tomorrow afternoon, they’ll kill her and move on. Keep in mind—we’ve not been very good at anticipating Toothpick’s actions.” Elliot paused for a few moments. “There is one thing. He likes being up high so he can see the action.”
“Okay, tell us again where we can find these guys,” Sam said. “We need to make a plan.”
“Toothpick knows I’ll look for him in Trinity Heights, the high rise projects. That’s his turf. He’ll make himself easy to find. And of course, he’ll be waiting for us to take the bait.”
***
Sam, Chet, and Harvey stood next to a table in the open hangar pouring over a map.
Harvey jabbed his finger at a spot on the map. “Trinity Heights.”
Sam leaned closer and examined the area on the map. The buildings appeared to be situated in a large open area surrounded mostly by parkland. “How many stories?” Sam asked.
“Four buildings,” Harvey replied. “Each in the shape of a cross. Ten stories each. And each building has two entrances, one each on opposite sides.”
Chet leaned closer to study the map. “Four buildings spread over several acres. No communications. They can’t watch and report to Toothpick on every road approaching the area.”
“And there are a lot of parks and wooded areas all around,” Sam said. “Offers good access.” Sam rubbed his face with his hand. “What we need is Intel,” he mumbled.
“I might have the ticket,” Harvey said, as he turned and walked to a nearby Hummer loaded with equipment. He pulled a large metal box from the back of the Hummer and set it on the ground. Sam and Chet joined him and watched as Harvey bent down and opened the box.
When the lid flew open, Sam was looking down on a high-tech drone, painted black, along with all the necessary associated equipment.
Chet whistled. “Does this thing still work?” he asked.
“It was shielded. It works.”
Harvey pulled the combat drone from its Styrofoam cutout. “They might see it during the day. But not at night.”
“Infrared?” Sam asked.
“Yes. And plenty of range.”
Harvey handed the drone to Chet and then reached back in the box. He came out with a control box that included a small monitor. “Pretty much self-contained.”
Harvey flipped a switch on the control box and then pushed a toggle forward. The drone immediately ca
me to life with propellers spinning and leaped up from Chet’s hand. The drone came to a hover about five feet above Chet’s head.
“She’s quiet,” Sam remarked.
“And fast,” Harvey said, as he pushed two toggles. The drone raced out of the hangar and came to a hover over the center of the tarmac.
“There’s no time like the present,” Sam said.
Harvey nodded, looked back to the control box, and flipped another switch. The monitor on the control box emitted a dull green glow and displayed the ground directly beneath the drone.
“Just like night-vision goggles,” Chet said.
CHAPTER 14
The room stank of body odor and flickered with the dull light of a single candle. Tiff was squared off against Topper as best she could with her hands tied behind her back. Her eyes were slits, teeth and jaws clenched, and the muscles in her neck, shoulders, and arms flexed. All she could think about was tearing Topper from limb to limb for shooting Elliot. She thought about Elliot lying in the dirt, blood oozing from his shoulder, and how he might be dead. She wasn’t worried so much about her own predicament, just revenge.
Topper stood in front of her with two other men behind him. His eyes were wide with anticipation. The only thing stopping him from pouncing on Tiff was the tall man standing to one side.
“Nobody touches her!” the man said. “She needs to be in one piece until I get my hands on the other three. Then, she’s yours.”
Despite the still dire circumstances, Tiff relaxed a bit. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she continued to stare at Topper.
Topper turned away and motioned for the others to do the same.
The man in charge stepped closer to Tiff. “They call me Toothpick.”
Tiff said nothing.
“You killed my crew.”
Tiff said nothing.
“You killed my brother.”
Tiff looked up. “Your brother?”
“At the fence.”
Realization spread over Tiff’s face. She said nothing.
Toothpick stepped closer. “You’re screwed,” Toothpick said, as he cupped one of her breasts in his hand. “But not before we enjoy every part of your body.” He slid his hand to the other breast and then down to her crotch. “Soon after your people come for you.” His rankness was almost debilitating. Tiff turned her head away.
“They won’t be coming,” Tiff said. “I barely know them.”
Toothpick removed his hand. “Detective Elliot is gonna come for you, and he’ll bring the others. Right now, they’re chilling on his wound. Once he’s patched up he’ll be along. If not tonight, certainly by tomorrow.”
Tiff glanced out the window next to her into the pitch darkness outside. “How will they know where I am?”
“Detective Elliot will know. He’s been here before.”
“What if he brings more friends than you expect?”
Toothpick stepped back. “He won’t. He knows I would just kill you before they get within a mile. It will be just the three of them.”
Toothpick turned to Topper. “Give this bitch some water.”
Topper retrieved a bottle from a half-empty case, unscrewed the top, and poured the water into her upturned mouth. He poured slowly at first, but then he upended the entire bottle. The water sloshed over her face and soaked her t-shirt. Her breasts and nipples became more visible. Topper licked his lips and winked.
Toothpick pointed up. “Go make sure the crew ain’t lacking,” he said to Topper.
Topper picked up an M16 style rifle leaning against the wall near the door and left the room.
***
Harvey pointed at the soft green image on the drone control box. “There’s only one building with men on the roof.”
Sam leaned closer. Green blobs stood out from the darkness of the building’s roof around them. “I count four men… five, one more just came out from that door.”
Chet looked up at Harvey. “Those extra men you mentioned?”
“I’ll go and I’m sure I can get a few others,” Harvey replied.
“We have an advantage… communication,” Sam said. “We’ll be able to coordinate.”
Harvey pushed a toggle on the control box and the building image on the monitor left the screen. “Need to bring it back for recharge.” He flipped a switch. “It will automatically come back home.”
At that moment Captain Jeffries, with one arm in a sling, walked up. “I’m going to split the convoy going back. Half leaves with me first thing tomorrow morning. The other half, including the ambulance and the doc, can follow under your command.” He pointed to Harvey.
“Thank you, sir,” Harvey said.
“You’ll have two mounted Hummers at your disposal. And there will be an extra transport Hummer for Sam, Chet, and Tiff that the colonel promised.”
“Thank you, captain,” Sam said.
“Least we could do. If I don’t get a chance to see you again before we leave, you take care. I hope you make it to where you’re headed.”
Sam and Chet shook with Jeffries’ good hand.
“You too,” Sam said. “We appreciate your help.”
Jeffries nodded at Sam and Chet and then turned and marched off.
“We need a plan,” Chet said, as he turned back to the map table.
***
“Comm check,” Sam said into his mini-mic, as he bounced around in the back of a mounted Hummer. Chet sat in the front passenger seat across from a driver. A gunner occupied the M2 turret.
“Lima charlie.” Harvey’s voice came through loud and clear in Sam’s earpiece.
Sam’s Hummer pulled to a stop next to another mounted Hummer in the heavy forest. The Hummers were nearly invisible in the pitch dark. Sam and Chet stepped out of one; Harvey and Sergeant Forsyth stepped from the other.
Harvey walked up to Sam and Chet. “We’re a mile out and we have one hour to sunup.”
“Elliot is going to be pissed,” Chet said, as he shook his head.
“That’s the third time you said that,” Sam said. “We get it.”
“The Hummers will wait here until we call them in,” Harvey said, “if we need them. We’re on foot.”
Harvey stepped out followed by Sam, Chet, and Forsyth.
“We need to be in that building before the sun,” Sam whispered to Harvey.
Harvey glanced at Sam, nodded, and kept his pace forward.
Twenty minutes later, they were at the edge of a clearing. Sam could see the looming dark hulks of the Trinity Heights buildings in the distance. There was no light from any of the windows which gave the buildings a sinister appearance. Sam thought Stephen King should consider these buildings for a backdrop in his next book.
Sam glanced over to Harvey and Forsyth as they slung their rifles over their back and drew their side arms. Each produced a suppressor from a pocket. Sam heard the sound of metal on metal as they screwed the suppressor to the barrels. Harvey swiveled his head for a final look, popped up, and began low trotting across the open field toward the nearest building. Forsyth followed close behind. Sam and Chet stepped out on their heels. Halfway across the open field, Harvey and Forsyth split off. Each headed for opposite sides of the building. Sam followed Harvey; Chet followed Forsyth.
Fifty yards from the nearest corner, Harvey stopped and took a knee. Sam pulled up and crouched beside him.
In his earpiece, Sam heard Forsyth’s voice squawk. “Alpha 1, fifty out. Two at the door.”
“Copy,” Harvey whispered. “Two more at my door.”
Harvey looked around at Sam. “Ready?” he whispered.
Sam nodded.
Harvey keyed his mic and brought his pistol up. “Taking them out now.” His pistol spit twice with reports louder than Sam expected. Both men at the door went down. Sam raised an eyebrow, impressed by Harvey’s accuracy. Sam wouldn’t want to compete in a shooting tournament against him.
Sam heard two muffled shots from his left and then Forsyth’s voice. �
�Two down. Oscar mike.”
“Copy,” Harvey replied.
Harvey stood up and raced to the door followed closely by Sam. Both gang members were sprawled on the concrete. Dark viscous pools ebbed under their heads.
“Feels too easy,” Sam whispered. Sam could just make out Harvey’s head nod up and down in the dark as he reached for the handle on the glass door.
Harvey let go of the handle and stepped back to the concrete wall next to the door. Sam moved to the wall on the other side of the door.
Harvey whispered into his mini-mic. “Alpha 2. How’s it look?”
No answer.
“Alpha 2?” Harvey whispered again.
Sam heard Forsyth’s voice. “Two down. Ready for entry.”
“Recommend maximum force,” Harvey said into his mic.
***
From inside the lobby, Topper saw two flashes through the glass doors and his men outside fall to the ground. A few seconds later he saw the dark silhouettes of two men approach the glass doors from the outside. Topper elbowed the man standing to his left and right. All three raised their rifles and waited. The silhouettes suddenly backed away from the door and moved to the side, out of sight. Time passed in slow motion as Topper waited for the shadows to reappear. Thirty seconds passed—then forty-five, then sixty. Something wasn’t right. Topper elbowed his men again as he started to step backward. Suddenly, a massive explosion, from down the hall shook the entire building. Topper dove behind a large potted palm tree just as a second explosion ripped through his lobby doors throwing glass, metal, concrete, and heat into the room. Deafened by the blast, Topper heard the muffled blasts from semi-automatic gunfire. He pressed his face deeper into the cold tile floor. And then all went quiet except for the muffled sound of boots crunching on broken glass.
Topper remained still as he tried to shed the fog from his brain. He heard muffled voices and more boots crunching on glass. He didn’t feel any excruciating pain, so he rolled to his side and was about to get up when he came face to face with the barrel of an automatic rifle only inches from his nose. He froze.
