Page 17 of Dangerous Vengeance

10

MATTY

We sit two blocks away in my black sedan watching the newspaper building. Tonight—nearly seven days after bringing Natalie to my house—we will infiltrate the building and obtain her laptop. Lenny has gone through everything in the network and mainframe and found nothing linking us to any known stories. No emails were sent on Natalie’s work email through their system, nor were there any emails sent from Sheffield’s email either.

“They tightened security since Sheffield’s wife got out of the basement and found her dead husband.” Dominic’s voice is dry; he’s not thrilled with the lengths to which we’ve had to go to make sure information about our family business doesn’t get leaked. If investigators find out we’re running a weapon smuggling operation out of our fishery at the docks we’re all going down. As it is we’ve had to really cut back and lay low after a shootout involving a mole we sniffed out.

“Yeah, our boys can handle it.” I say the words as I grip the butt of my gun, still holstered at my side. I may not even have to use it, and God willing I won’t. This shouldn’t be difficult.

It’s only natural that such a huge event—a mass shooting in a warehouse—would draw attention. I even understand how Natalie put the pieces together and connected us to the shooting. We do own the business and the building, and our name is synonymous with organized crime in this city. But with the dirty cops we have on payroll, we were assured it was covered up as nothing more than a disgruntled employee who came to work with a gun and those on the premises who protected themselves and others.

“Look there,” Dominic says, pointing. A light goes on in the window on the second floor. None of us know the exact location of Natalie’s desk in the building, but with intel that suggests the news floor is on level two, we wait and watch.

I raise my binoculars to my eyes and peer through them. It’s dark out, which means anyone who is watching this building will see the light has gone on. They’ll also see the men walking around in there, two of them dressed in dark clothing and carrying weapons. They’d have done better if they wore night vision glasses and kept the lights off, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

“They’re going to raise suspicions,” I mutter, watching them look through one cubicle at a time. They walk into an office, and I see sparks fly through the frosted glass—probably Sheffield—probably destroying his computer. It’s one of those nights so dark the sky swallows up light. Every flash emitted from that entire floor illuminates the block, flickering off store fronts and lamp posts.

“Those dumb fucks.” Dominic runs a hand through his hair. “Look, there.” He points at our watch man, standing near the corner of the building in the dark. He’s hidden but keeping an eye on things—there for backup in case something goes awry. “He’s not even able to see the entire perimeter.”

“We’re dealing with greenhorns, Dom. That shootout took several of our best men.” It’s as frustrating to me as it is him, all my other brothers too I’d assume. Right now, Sven and Rome are watching this too, from their spots on adjacent rooftops with their rifles on aim. I can see the red dot of a scope through my binoculars. At least one of them is watching. And each of us has a walkie talkie, ready to communicate if necessary.

I glance at my phone. I have a timer set. They have to be in and out in under three minutes and we’re staring at two minutes and fifty seconds they’ve been at it already. It doesn’t look good for us at all. I raise my walkie to my mouth and press the transmitter. “Guys, you need to get out now. If you don’t have the computer, make it look like a B&E, over.” The radio clicks and I hear static.

“We can’t find it, over.” The transmission isn’t clear. I can’t make out who said it, and when Dominic glares at the building, I know I’m in for a rough night. Nothing has gone right for our family for weeks. We need this to be a non-event. It feels like the fates have aligned to take us down.

He shifts in his seat and leans forward, gripping his gun in hand. “If they don’t get out in time, we’ll have to fight our way out. The cops have already been alerted. Their silent alarm gives us only three minutes and thirty seconds from trigger to police on scene.”

“That’s only—” I glance at my timer “—twenty-three seconds left.”

My self-preservation instinct kicks in and I start the car. We’re close enough to be in the net they cast around the perimeter but far enough away to see it being set up. If I leave now, we’ll be safe, but our men will be trapped and Dominic isn’t big on leaving men behind. I feel the tension rising, my body growing taut in preparation to fight. “What’s wrong with them?”

The light on the second floor goes out ten seconds past their expiration date and we sit on pins and needles waiting. “Be ready with cover fire, Sven and Rome, over.” Dominic’s order into his walkie talkie is acknowledged by both of them and in the distance, I hear sirens.

“Shit…” I brace myself, setting my walkie down in favor of drawing my gun. I chamber a round and take the safety off. “This is going down, Dom.”

“Just don’t shoot any friendlies.”

I have no intention of shooting at our inside guys, the dirty cops we pay to make sure our business is protected, but in the heat of a shootout, friendly fire can happen. If they’re smart, they’ll stay out of the way and let us do what needs done. At this point it’s a rescue mission. Getting our guys out without them getting caught is our number one priority. If the break-in at the paper gets tied back to us, authorities will be alerted to something going on, which will only put them on our scent for Sheffield’s murder.

“Be ready to go…” Dominic opens the door and steps out, taking shelter behind a dumpster after leaving his door open and the one to the back seat. He intends to lay cover fire for our inside guys, and I have to keep the car ready to run.

Adrenaline courses through my veins as the red and blue flashes of police lights come into focus. The car whips to a stop followed by a second one, right in front of the paper. The police leave their cars with guns pointed at the doors just as our guys run out the front. Bullets fly in a frenzied crossfire, shattering glass and clinking off of metal.

I point my gun through my open window and join the cacophony. I don’t recognize these uniforms and my gun is untraceable, so I don’t care who gets hit. I don’t aim for kill shots, but I can’t say the same about our men. We have the cops outnumbered for now, seven to four, but they’ll have back up soon.

“To the car!” I hear Dominic shout as he opens fire again, putting more bullets in the air so the cops duck behind their vehicles. The two men once inside the building race toward my car and our watch man at the corner of the building fires off a few more rounds to cover them too. I keep my pistol trained on the open door of the cop car as one of them rises up and fires her weapon.

The bullet ricochets off the dumpster where Dominic is hiding, and I open fire. I put three rounds into her door which she uses as a shield, but this is getting intense. It’s happening so fast I’m not sure who is firing at whom. Two men dart into my back seat and cower like babies. Their guns are probably empty anyway.

When Dominic goes to make a move to return to the car, the cops open fire again. I hear the wail of more sirens in the distance. More of them are coming. “We gotta get out of here,” I hear over the radio. It’s Sven’s voice.

“Little help here?” Dominic’s voice on the radio sounds a bit more alert than normal. He’s feeling the pressure too. He is taking such heavy fire he can’t move from behind the dumpster, and now the cops have started firing at my car too. I duck low, putting it in gear. I try to watch where I’m going as I creep forward. I can’t see anything or help with the shooting with my car taking so many rounds. I hope they don’t get my radiator or tires.

“We need cover!” The watchman’s voice calls out over the radio, and he sounds frantic. I roll closer to Dominic’s position and hear the report of Rome or Sven’s sniper rifle. The cops are shouting orders and things are heating up. When I’m close enough to get a glimpse of my oldest brother I put my foot on the break and stop the car. More bullets slice through the air, shattering my windshield and piercing my headrest. Thankfully, I’m folded in half, lying over the center console.

“Shit!” I hear screaming and the watchman falls. Dominic unleashes, using everything in his clip to cover himself as he drags the watchman toward the car. Rome and Sven continue to pummel the area in a rain of lead as the men in my backseat pull our wounded soldier into the car and Dominic slides into the passenger seat.

I don’t even wait for them to shut the doors. I put the car in reverse and slam the gas pedal to the floor. Using the backup camera, I’m able to navigate us up the block to a stretch of the street where there are no parked cars. Bullets still fly, though our guns are spent, and as we pass a light post, Dominic’s door catches on it and tears off. He grips the armrest as I whip the car around and slam it into drive. And as I push the gas pedal again, he buckles in.

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