Page 78 of Reaper
How did I end up here? How did I become someone who orchestrates fake raids and lies to traumatized people? The answer walks in front of me in handcuffs and a black mask, and I hate that I still want to reach out and touch him, make sure he's okay.
Outside, Susan has the van doors open, and she's helping the last few people climb inside. The vehicle is a beat-up white panel van that's seen better decades, but it's clean inside, and Susan has stocked it with blankets and water bottles. Small mercies.
She shuts the doors while two people are still left standing outside, and she approaches me. Her voice is low. “You’ll need to transport these two for me. There’s not enough room in the van. Can you do that?”
I nod and gesture toward the stolen Sebring parked not far away.
“Send them over. We’ll take them.” Then I beckon toward Mayhem, who comes jogging over as I walk to the car. “We’re transporting a few for Susan. Not enough room in the van.”
He nods. Moments later, two of the captives come walking over, a young man in his mid-twenties, and a young woman about the same age. The man takes a long look at the car, then looks at us. “This is your police car?”
Mayhem nods. “Budget cutbacks — they’re a bitch. Hop on in, we’ll take you where you need to go.”
The two get in the car. Mayhem does, too. Just as I’m about to open the driver’s side door, I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see Susan. Her eyes are narrow, and her mouth is set in a frown. She places a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that Ricky and his friends were doing a Russian accent.”
“And?”
“I’m not a fool. I know what you all might be trying to orchestrate. Look, I’m here to help because Ricky asked me, and these people need someone to look out for them. But I’m not blind to who Ricky is — he might be a good man, but he’s not all good. I know he has a past. As an addict and a pusher. And if he’s willing to do something like this that puts all these people at risk and could start a…” She stops, her hand on my shoulder gives me a quick squeeze. “Take it from someone who has seen more than she wants to admit: be careful. Protect yourself.”
Chapter Thirty Five
Reaper
“What’s the next step, Reaper?” Tank says, shifting his weight as he leans against his motorcycle. His breath fogs in the chilly night air, and he gives me a look that tells me that, despite the brotherhood we share, this task is testing those bonds. “We’ve already trashed an apartment used by a women’s shelter to house at-risk victims. Are we going to maybe go blow up an orphanage?”
“If we are, I can put together an incendiary bomb that’d take care of it real quick,” Mayhem says. “The trick is to use the right accelerant, so it burns hot and long enough to really incinerate the structure. I like thermite, but there’s also a case for using magnesium. I guess it really comes down to what the orphanage is built from — is it concrete, wood, or brick — and just how many kids we’re talking about barbecuing?”
Diesel stares at him. “Are you serious right now?”
“No, I’m being hypothetical. I wouldn’t really barbecue children, god damn, dude. I’d give them warning to get out before I burned their home to ashes. Shit.”
“Why would you even think about that?”
Mayhem shrugs. “It’s just a thought experiment. Haven’t you ever ridden by a building and thought about what would be the best way to reduce it to a smoldering pile of ashes?”
“No.”
“You need to open your mind, Diesel.”
“Open my mind to the possibility of being an arsonist?”
Adriana clears her throat. “We’re not burning an orphanage. We’re going to a mahjong club.”
Tank throws a confused look from Adriana to me. “Explain. Because that makes about as much fucking sense as burning an orphanage.”
Adriana looks at me, and there’s something in her eyes that I don’t like — doubt, maybe, or frustration. What is she thinking? What happened to her? It seems the longer this plan goes on, even though it’s working like we planned — except for that minor hiccup of the cargo actually being people — the more she looks at me like she first did when she wanted to kill me.
“We’ve done enough to put it in the Triad’s heads that Ruslan and his gang are the ones who disrupted their shipment. They already have tension with the Russians, and this mahjong club was the site of a Russian attack not that long ago.”
“And we’re just going to walk in there and, what, ask to speak to the Triad manager?” Diesel says.
Adriana nods. “The woman who runs the club can connect us to the Triads. We’ve met her before. Then, we’ll offer to do the dirty work for the Triads in exchange for a little help to get close to Ruslan Volkov.”
“I love mahjong. I’m in. Let’s go,” Mayhem says.
Tank gives me a long, appraising look. “And you’re sure this is the best way?”
