The Reluctant Warrior (Warriors Series Book 2) (3 page)

‘New Jersey, huh?’ He turned to Diego and received a stony look in return.

He shrugged and continued driving without stopping at any of the services. Conversation wasn’t Diego’s strongest point.

Southport in Gloucester City, New Jersey, on the Delaware River was once the site of a nineteenth- century shipyard and later was an industrial site. Now it was abandoned and fenced off, industry and shipping deserting the city, and this was where Shattner guessed the crack was heading to.

A brilliant choice for a deal to go down since law enforcement never ventured there, and the only people that visited were the odd fisherman or jogger.

They drove through the city, driving normally so as not to attract any attention, and Diego relaxed beside him. Relaxed like a snake. Down they went on Klemm Avenue and through to Market Street, the town, a very small place that industry forgot and where everyone knew the other.

On Water Street, Diego made him drive all the way from the waterfront to an abandoned industrial site where power stations, chimneys, and buildings defined desolation.

Shattner parked in front of an enormous opening to a long, dilapidated structure that ran for a mile on either side of the entrance, its roof partially blown away, exposing an intestine of girders and frames. From the inside of the structure came the sound of an engine revving, and another drab Ford Transit emerged from the maw of the building and rattled across towards them. The Transit reversed so that it was back to back with Shattner’s car.

Four heavily armed men emerged from the rear of the Transit and headed towards Diego.

Through the rearview mirror Shattner could see the men sported assault rifles and handguns; one had an M203 grenade launcher hanging from his shoulder. All four of them sported the tattoos of 5Clubs; Shattner suspected this was a trade between Cruz’s chapter and whichever other chapter these four belonged to.

Diego opened the trunk, and the four men swiftly began transferring the crack to the van. He stood at one side, talking into his mobile, his gun hand casually resting inside his jacket.

Shattner, taking his cue from Diego, felt around his back, pulled out his Glock and placed it in his lap. He angled the mirrors so that he could see everyone behind him.

And then everyone heard it. Their arrival could be heard a long way away, the throbbing of powerful engines approaching fast.

Chapter 4

One of the armed men ran out to the road leading to Water Street, jerked his head both ways, and came back shouting urgently. Diego started yelling back, and the tension ratcheted up.

Shattner couldn’t make out the shouting from inside the car, but the men speeded up the transfer. He stepped out of the Toyota as, at a sharp command from Diego, the four abandoned the transfer and ran towards the Transit.

‘Cops,’ shouted Diego to Shattner, and that was enough for him to follow Diego into the back of the van.

The van was already moving when they reached it, and rough hands drew them in the back. As soon as they were inside the van, it took off, its tires squealing in the dirt. The van careened on the road and then righted after a tight right took it onto Water Street, away from the industrial site.

Through the half-open door, Shattner could now see the reason for the escape; three New Jersey State cruisers were about half a mile away, their bars flashing, followed by a Police Command Vehicle, the roar of their engines growing louder by the second.

The air in the van felt thin to Shattner, everything jacked up and tight, and sound came to him at a distance, adrenaline drowning out normalcy. The cruisers turned on their sirens when they spotted the Transit making a getaway, and a loudspeaker called out, but the commotion in the van drowned out the words.

Shattner held onto the side of the van desperately as it rocketed down the street, its souped-up engine releasing all its horses. He glanced nervously at Diego, who was directing the men to fire at the cops.

Shattner shouted above the racket, ‘You’re not going to fire at them, are you? That will make this worse.’

Diego looked at him contemptuously, and before he could answer, the gangbangers opened fire. They didn’t see if their shots had any effect as the van turned a corner and then immediately slipped into another street and took yet another turn, where it slid into an open slot. The four men jumped out, took the remaining stash, and ran away, disappearing in the traffic.

Diego pushed Shattner ahead of him, the two walking briskly but not noticeably hurrying, blending in the ebb and flow of the street. He nudged Shattner into a park, where they sat, outwardly relaxed, till it grew dark.

Smart move
, thought Shattner.
Parks won’t be the first place the cops look at
.

They broke into a run-down Honda Civic when night set in, and drove out of Gloucester City.

Diego hit his phone as soon as they were clear and back on the I-95, calling several numbers, speaking rapidly and angrily in Spanish.

‘How many kilos did we leave behind?’ Shattner asked him once Diego had fallen silent. Instead of answering, Diego pulled his gun and pointed it at Shattner.

‘How did they know?’ he screamed. The sudden move made Shattner swerve, and when he finished steadying the car, Diego screamed again. ‘Are you the snitch? How did the pigs know?’

‘I don’t know, and fuck you, I’m not a snitch,’ Shattner screamed back.

He turned to face Diego fully, ignoring the car, ignoring the traffic.

Rage flooded through him, string-tight nerves and adrenaline needing a release. ‘Kill me, you bastard, and get it over with,’ he screamed, spittle spraying on Diego.

‘You are the enforcer, right? Hot-shot hit man, feared by all? You all suspect me of being the grass, don’t you? Come on, kill me, you motherfucker.’ He pushed his face to Diego’s, forcing the barrel tight against his head, his eyes looking into the killer’s eyes.

Diego’s finger tightened on the trigger as Shattner looked at him fully, one hand on the wheel, one foot hovering over the precipice.

A long-haul truck overtook them in the fast lane, its horn blaring contemptuously, penetrating the car and cutting through the adrenaline.

Diego lowered the gun and said, ‘Drive,’ and fell silent.

Shattner turned to the road, his hands trembling slightly against the wheel; if Diego noticed them, he didn’t say a word. After a while Diego wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

‘If you spit on me again, I will kill your son and Jose will fuck your daughter in front of you,’ he said matter-of-factly.

It took a long time for Shattner’s heart to start beating normally after that.

Diego made him drive all across Brooklyn, making random turns as he resumed his calls, speaking in a calmer voice.

It was past midnight when they reached the garage, no lights burning and no movement. Yet, when they entered the garage, a shadow detached itself from the other darker shadows.

Jose Cruz.

Diego went over to him and had a low conversation while Shattner waited in the Honda. Shattner didn’t know what to expect now and had his Glock between his thighs, his hand on its grip, ready in case either Diego or Cruz or both opened fire on him.

They didn’t.

After a very short conversation, which featured no cursing or yelling, Diego came over and got in. He made Shattner drive to Coney Island, to a car-recycling and salvage yard that Shattner suspected the gang owned. Diego disappeared in the depths of the yard and came back with a can of lighter fluid.

They doused the interior of the car with the fluid and lit it with a match.

It was the early hours of the morning by the time Shattner got to his apartment. He entered quietly and paused outside the bedroom, listening to Shawn and Lisa asleep, both of them accustomed to his absences, his children fast-forwarding to adulthood without him.

The weight of the day and the sight of his children brought him to his knees. He dimly wondered why he’d not been shot by the gang. If he was in their place, he would’ve shot a suspected snitch without a second thought.

Maybe I’m not the only one under suspicion. Or Diego wanted a white face around him to get away from that place, and now I can be killed.

He sat there for a long while trying to think in their shoes, and then gave up and dragged himself to the bathroom to clean up, and when he came out, his children were up and getting ready for school.

Lisa ran over to him, and he scooped her up, crushing her tight, feeling her small heart beat against his. ‘I missed you, Daddy.’ Her voice was muffled against his neck.

‘I missed you too, princess,’ he replied, his face in her hair, and the warmth of her breath and the fresh smell of her hair brought back the cold determination to set things right for them.

Once Shattner walked them to school, he made his plans. He wasn’t sure how long his employment at the garage would last. He smiled grimly at that thought.

Heck, he wasn’t sure how long he had to live.

He returned to their apartment, to the closet in the bedroom, and pulled out the lowermost section, right out of its slide. Taped to the rear of it was a thick wad of cash. He pulled out the drawer above it and removed another Glock 30 taped to its rear and three magazines of ammunition. He went to the kitchen and removed another stash of cash, another gun, and more ammunition.

He packed them in an anonymous satchel and caught the subway to Manhattan. He stowed one cache at a baggage locker near the Port Authority bus terminal and another at the cruise ship terminals. He then went to his regular small arms supplier and bought extra magazines and other odds and ends.

He would try to stick it out at the garage; he needed the money. But if necessary, he was ready to wage war.

Chapter 5

The garage was closed the next day.

Shattner peered above the gate and saw that the garage was deserted, with no movement from within. He looked to see if there was any notice put up about the closure; there was none.

After an hour of hanging about, he gave up and made a call to Diego. Diego didn’t pick up, and after several rings his call went to voice mail. Shattner didn’t leave a message. Diego wasn’t into voice mail. He called the office number for the garage and, after several rings, got the teenager’s recorded voice stating the opening times for the garage.

He hung around for another hour, trying Diego’s number repeatedly with no response, before making his way slowly back to the apartment. The absence of any information was eating away at him, his mind conjuring various scenarios when the terrible thought struck him.

He stood still on the sidewalk, oblivious to the cursing of the pedestrians who were forced to flow around him.

He pulled out his phone and called the children’s school. After a five-minute harangue with the receptionist, she put him on hold, and after a million years, the cool dry voice of Mrs. Harwood came on.

‘Ah, the missing father. What’s so important, Mr. Shattner, that you had me dragged out of a lesson?’ Sarcasm. A New Yorker’s birthright.

He breathed deeply, oxygen filling his mind, trying to blow away the mist in his head and mute the roaring in his ears.

‘Mr. Shattner?’

‘Mrs. Harwood, are my kids in school?’

A pause. ‘Why wouldn’t they be, Mr. Shattner?’

He squeezed the phone tightly as if by doing so he could get a better reply from her. ‘Mrs. Harwood, are they in school right now?’

The cool voice went cold. ‘I taught Lisa earlier today and saw her with her brother later. Is there something that the school should know?’

‘Mrs. Harwood, this will sound insane, but could you please go and see for yourself that they’re both in their lessons right at this minute? I’ll hold. Please?’

‘Mr. Shattner, I have seen both of them earlier today. Now, I have a lesson to teach, and I’m hanging up.’

‘Mrs. Harwood, please. I shall never ask another favor of you, but please do me this one. Please check on them right this minute and let me know. Please!’ Desperation cracked his voice and singed and burnt the air around him.

She went quiet for a minute and then said, ‘Mr. Shattner, I don’t know what’s going on in your life. I’m not sure I want to know, but I have to ask. Are they in some danger? What exactly is happening that you have to ask this?’

‘Mrs. Harwood, just this once, please go check on them.’ Cities, continents, sun, life disappeared. Existence was reduced to the voice in his ear.

He heard nothing, just an empty line, and feared she had hung up on him, but no, there wasn’t a dial tone. Just an empty silence. He crushed the phone harder to his ear as if that would bring her back, and then through the fog surrounding him, he heard her voice in his ear.

‘Mr. Shattner? Mr. Shattner, are you there?’

He licked his lips and forced sound through his parched throat. ‘Yes.’

The coldness was replaced by cool dryness. ‘I’m happy to say they’re both in their respective classes. Would you like me to message you a picture to your mobile?’

He cleared his throat once, then twice. The planet started spinning again. ‘No, that won’t be necessary. I apologize for the trouble and can’t thank you enough.’

A pause and with it came the slightest softening in her voice. ‘If there is some trouble, we might be able to help, Mr. Shattner.’

‘No trouble, Mrs. Harwood. I was missing them, that’s all.’ It sounded lame even to his ears.

‘Very well then,’ came the brisk reply, ‘I have to go back to my students, who no doubt will be thinking and behaving as if it was Christmas come early. You have a good day,’ and she hung up.

Shattner stood there, the darkness disappearing, New York sprouting around him, making its presence felt again. He walked unsteadily to a nearby wooden bench, drawing huge gulps of air, a dead man revived. He sat there till the world had righted itself and then started thinking, analyzing, planning.

Clearly something had happened for the garage to shut down and Diego to go off the radar. He tried Diego’s phone again a few more times and got no reply. He had to check if the gang was still operational, but first he had to drop off the radar, just in case.