by Payne, T. L.
“Can you tell where the prints lead?” JJ asked.
“I don’t know. Those may be fresh prints leading to the street right there,” Scott said.
Raine strained to see them. It was still pretty dark out—certainly too dark to see very far. She hoped that was the case for the men with rifles.
“Let’s spread out as we cross over. When you get across, head for those bushes,” Scott said, pointing to the landscaping behind a multistory office building.
Scott went first, followed by JJ. Raine waited a few seconds and then took off after them. Brandon ran beside her, totally ignoring Scott’s directions to spread out. Raine had the impression that Brandon might resent Scott's taking the lead. It wasn’t anything overt, just something about his body language. Maybe she was reading too much into it. She was always overthinking things. That was probably the case in this instance.
Scott reached the bushes beside the road and waved for Raine and Brandon to hurry. It was difficult to run in the snow. She was sweating already. That wasn’t good. If she got too wet, she could get hypothermic pretty quick and with no way to warm up or dry her clothes, it could be deadly.
Raine dropped down on one knee beside JJ. “Do you see anything?”
JJ shook her head.
“The prints continue down this street. Wait here. I’m going to run ahead and see if I can tell which way they go,” Scott said as he stood.
“You sure you want to go alone?” JJ asked.
Scott nodded and took off walking along the tree line.
JJ, Brandon, and Raine crouched in silence listening for the sound of the SUV.
“Where do you think that guy was going?” Raine whispered.
“This all looks residential to me,” Brandon said.
“Makes sense. A big warehouse store would be hard to heat even with a generator. I’d rather stay in a house myself. I’m sure there are a few around here with fireplaces in them,” JJ said.
Raine pictured warming her frozen hands and feet by a nice, warm fire. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel warm again. She’d almost fight them over a fireplace. They could melt snow and have enough to drink. If they melted enough, maybe even wash her face. Raine was dreaming of a shower when they heard the crunching of feet on snow.
“It’s me,” Scott called in a low voice.
JJ stepped out from behind the bushes. “What? How’d you do that?”
Raine stepped around her to see what she was referring to and nearly fell over when she saw the lookout guy walking in front of him. He looked terrified. Scott stopped and pushed the guy to his knees, pressing his pistol in the back of the man’s neck.
“We need somewhere to have a little sit-down with our new friend,” Scott said.
Raine turned and looked around.
“There? In that office building? All that brick might muffle his screams,” Raine said, staring down at the man. He looked up wide-eyed. A tear ran down his cheek. Raine almost felt sorry for him.
Scott grabbed one arm and JJ the other, and they led the man around the trees toward the parking lot of the office building. Going down the hill, the man tripped, dragging Scott and JJ down with him. At the bottom, Scott struggled with the man for control of the gun. Brandon slid down the hill on his butt and ran over to them. He grabbed the man around the waist and threw him to the ground, causing him to release his grip on the pistol. Scott yanked the man to his feet and shoved him forward.
“Try that shit again and I won’t be so nice,” Scott said.
As they walked up to the side door of the building, Raine asked, “How are we going to get in?”
“We might have to break the glass,” JJ said.
“That would make too much noise,” Scott said.
Brandon rushed ahead and yanked on the door. To Raine’s great delight, the door was unlocked. Brandon smiled and held it open as the others walked through. Raine pulled on the second set of glass doors, but they didn’t budge. They weren’t that lucky.
“At least it won’t be as loud when we break the glass,” Raine said.
“What are we going to break the glass with? Our hands?” JJ asked, looking around the vestibule.
Brandon opened the outer door and disappeared from sight. A moment later, he returned carrying a heavy metal trashcan. “Stand back.”
The noise was deafening inside the vestibule. Raine was sure that the noise could be heard for miles. It took three or four strikes to put even a small hole in the glass door. Finally, Brandon swung and hit the side glass panel and it shattered. He looked back and smiled. He tried to fit through the opening to unlock the door, but he was too big.
“Here. Let me,” Raine said. At least being little had one advantage: she could fit into tight spaces. She bent over, walked through the opening, and unlocked the doors.
“Lock that outer door,” Scott called to Brandon as he led their prisoner into the foyer. A long hall stretched almost down the full length of the building with office doors on each side. Raine read the sign on the first door, “Dixon Insurance Company.”
“Let’s see if they have an interior room without a window,” Scott said.
Brandon tried every door along the corridor. They were all locked.
“How about upstairs?” Raine said. "We can see if anyone is approaching.”
“Good idea about being able to see anyone coming, but not good if we have to escape quickly. Why don’t you and Brandon go upstairs and keep watch? If one of you takes each side, you should have the building pretty much covered,” Scott said.
Raine wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with that scenario. She really wanted to hear what the guy had to say, but Scott was right. Someone needed to be the lookout.
“I’ll take the side facing Manchester,” Raine said.
Chapter 23
Barrett Station Office Suites
Manchester, Missouri
February 22nd
Pushing the door open with her foot, JJ scanned the room. At one end was a dark wood receptionist desk. The sign on the wall behind it read Simmons Logistics. On the opposite wall were four hard backed chairs and a withered potted plant. Framed art hung above them.
JJ pushed the door open wider.
“What do you think?”
“No windows?” Scott asked.
“No windows. The interior doors look pretty solid,” JJ said.
“It will do,” Scott said, pushing their captive inside.
He looked to be no more than a teenager. Skinny with a pockmarked face, he was dressed like he’d just climbed out of his gamer’s chair and hit the streets. Out of all the stores they’d hit so far, why the kid hadn’t found a decent coat was baffling.
“What do you want, man?” the kid whined.
“I want you to be quiet until I tell you to speak,” Scott said.
JJ pulled one of the chairs to the middle of the room.
“Sit,” she said.
The kid looked wide-eyed as he lowered himself onto the chair.
Scott pulled a knife from his pocket and cut the cord from the floor lamp in the corner. He went behind the receptionist desk and grabbed a stapler, letter opener, and roll of box tape.
“You plan on mailing something?” JJ asked.
“I may be mailing this guy’s body parts back to his crew piece by piece if he doesn’t tell us what we want to know.”
“You can’t do that,” JJ said. “He’s just kidding. We’re not going to hurt you, kid.” JJ walked around behind the chair and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. She looked back at Scott and smiled.
“Nah. We won’t need to, will we, boy? You’re going to answer all my questions and then I’ll let you go,” Scott said.
“You ready?” JJ said.
JJ grabbed the boy’s hands, pulled them behind the chair, wrapped the electrical cord around them, and pulled it tight.
“That ain’t necessary. I ain’t going anywhere. I’m going to tell you whatever you want to know. There’s no need…�
�
Scott slapped a piece of the packing tape across the boy’s mouth.
“It’s going to be hard for him to talk with tape over his mouth, don’t you think?”
“I’m not ready to ask him anything yet,” Scott said. “Here. Hold my gun.”
Scott handed the pistol to JJ. She dropped the magazine, racked the slide, and ejected a round from the chamber. She counted the rounds left in the magazine. They were down to three bullets. They needed to find a cache of ammo. Some rifles would be even better. JJ placed the ejected round in the magazine, slapped the mag into the pistol, and chambered a round.
“Where are you going?” she asked Scott as she placed the pistol in the back of her waistband.
“I need to go upstairs and have a look out the windows myself.”
JJ pushed a lock of her blonde hair from her brow and turned to face him.
“What are you looking for up there?”
Scott pivoted and crossed the room.
“Smoke.”
JJ pulled a chair over and sat it in front of the kid. She’d seen that move a hundred times on television and in movies. The police officer would place the chair so close that their knees would touch the suspect’s. It was something about invading someone’s personal place to put them off guard. The boy must have seen the same movies. He tilted his head and attempted to smile, but the tape pulled on his stubbled upper lip and he winced.
“While my partner is upstairs pulling surveillance on your crew, I think we should have a little chat to move this thing along faster. I don’t know about you, but I’m freaking cold. Of course, I don’t have a warm house with a fireplace to go home to, but…”
The kid's eyes widened.
“Does the boss let you sit by the fireplace and drink hot cocoa?” JJ asked.
His gaze narrowed.
“I bet he doesn’t even let you enter the room where the fireplace is, does he?”
The boy shook his head.
“Well, that’s just wrong. You do all the dirty work and he and his captains sit by the fire all day drinking warm coffee and eating three meals a day,” JJ said.
He looked away.
“Are you ready to tell me about your gang?”
He nodded but didn’t look at JJ.
“All right. Now, this is going to hurt, but don’t cry out or my partner might hear and come back. This would go a different way if he does it. Here goes,” JJ said as she ripped the tape away.
A silent scream formed on the kid’s lips. His eyes watered.
“Okay. Let’s make this quick before he comes back down here,” JJ said, pushing the chair back just enough that their knees no longer touched. She wanted to give him the space to gather himself after ripping the skin off his already dry, cracked lips.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything, really, but to start, what’s your leader’s name?”
“We call him Suit,” the kid said.
“Suit? Is that what he calls himself?”
“No. We call him Suit because that’s what he wears. I heard he’d worked in the bank a few blocks down.”
“How many are in your gang?” she asked.
“We ain’t a gang,” the kid said.
“Your group, then.”
“About twenty,” he said.
JJ nodded and tried hard not to let her concern show. She stood and walked around behind him.
“Do you have families in your group or is it all men?”
“It’s just dudes. Mostly. Suit has a couple of girls. He got them on trade. We can’t talk to them, though.”
She had hoped they weren’t dealing with a ruthless gang of twenty men with guns, but her worst fears were now realized.
“Trade as in sex trafficking?” JJ asked through clenched teeth.
“No! Not like that.” He paused. “He doesn’t pimp them out or nothing.”
JJ felt her stomach turn. Her face twisted in a mask of disdain. She turned her back to the kid and shut her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll get back to that in a moment.” JJ walked back around and took her seat again. She smiled slightly, trying to contain her emotions. “How many guns does your group have?”
When Scott returned, JJ was seated in the corner next to the frozen potted palm tree. Her legs were drawn up and her arms rested on her knees. Their captive’s head hung low. His eyes were shut.
“Did you…” Scott asked, pointing to the kid.
“He’s praying,” JJ whispered.
Scott mouthed, “What the hell.”
JJ waved Scott over and patted the seat next to her. She filled him in on what she’d learned from the boy in the fifteen minutes Scott had been away. He’d been as concerned as she was to learn that they were a well-organized group of twenty or so men, all with rifles and plenty of ammo. They were well stocked with food and supplies and had three vehicles. The look on Scott’s face when she told him about the abundance of fuel surprised her.
“So that was what the generator was for?” Scott said, a broad smile spreading across his face.
“What’s our plan?” JJ asked.
“Go get Raine and Brandon. We need to talk.”
Brandon shook his head. “No way, man. That’s too dangerous. We could blow ourselves up.”
“What I don’t get is why they don’t have more people guarding the gas pumps. You can hear the generator running for blocks. Aren’t they concerned someone will pull in there and steal the gasoline?”
Raine sat on the low part of the reception desk in the office across the hall from where their prisoner was tied up. Scott slid into a leather chair and put his feet up on the small coffee table while Brandon leaned against the door.
“They have one guy inside with the generator. They think that’s all they need. All the others are patrolling the streets. If there were any other cars on the road, they’d know about it. If someone tried to walk up and pump gas, the guy in the control building would step out and shoot them,” JJ said from her seat facing the window. She stared through the glass into the office across the hall. Their prisoner hadn’t moved or attempted to flee. She had tied his hands pretty tightly.
“So your plan is to wait until they drive the SUV up to the gas pump and then do what?” Brandon asked. “Are you going to jump out from the bushes and demand they hand over the keys? Are you going to shoot them if they don’t?”
“If we are able to get the drop on those guys, it can go pretty quickly, then we just hop in and drive like hell,” Scott said. “We’re going to need to get Lucy. We need another weapon.”
“What about the guy in the generator control building?” Raine asked.
“We could set off some type of diversion and take him out when he opens the door,” JJ said.
“What if he fires on you and hits the gas pumps?” Brandon asked.
“We’ll stop him before he gets a shot off,” JJ said.
“That sounds farfetched. How is he not going to see us crossing the parking lot?” Brandon asked.
“There’s only one tiny window in the small building. He won’t have a three-hundred- and sixty-degree sight of the parking lot. They’re relying on their street team to keep people away. Dumb, but that has to be the case or else, where are the guards?”
JJ had to admit that it did sound farfetched, but from the way the boy described it, his group thought they were the big dog on the block and weren’t really as security-conscious as they should be.
“How are we going to fit eleven people in that Suburban?” Brandon asked.
“Any way we can,” Scott said.
JJ raised an eyebrow.
“It seats nine. The kid can sit in his mom’s lap.”
“That still leaves one person without a seat,” JJ said.
Scott grinned ear to ear. “You can sit in my lap.”
JJ flipped him the bird.
“What happens when the others come after us in their trucks?” Brandon asked.
No one spoke.
Raine cleared her throat. “We should disable their other vehicles somehow.”
“What?” Brandon asked.
Raine jammed her hands in her pockets. “We should slice their tires or steal their batteries.”
Brandon crossed his arms. “And how are we going to get close enough for that?”
“If we can figure out which store they are taking stuff from, we can hit their vehicle while they’re inside,” Raine said.
“We can ask him which one is next,” JJ said, standing and pointing at their prisoner.
Although it seemed that there was no method to the group’s scavenging of the businesses along Manchester Road, according to their prisoner, they did have a schedule. Suit was all about the logistics. His plan was to set up an elaborate barter system with the goods they were taking. Most disturbing, they were trading guns and ammo with gangs and drug lords in north and east St. Louis. Disturbing because if those gangs decided to take over the area instead of just conducting trade with this group, JJ and the others could be caught in the middle of a war between two heavily-armed combatants. She hated that the bad guys had all the guns. The residents of this area had been smart to evacuate. The sooner JJ and the others could get out of the area, all the better in her opinion.
“How do you know he is telling us the truth?” Brandon asked, staring through the glass at the kid.
Scott pulled the hood up on his parka.
“Only one way to find out.”
“Trader Joe’s is a half-mile away. What if they’re gone when we get there?” Brandon asked.
Scott shook his head.
He seemed to be growing weary of Brandon’s skepticism, although he was showing great patience. JJ thought it was a good thing to have at least one devil’s advocate in the group. When you were focused on a mission, getting tunnel vision could be deadly. She hoped Scott could tolerate Brandon questioning his ideas long enough for them to steal the SUV and get out of the city.
