Page 11 of Ripper
“I thought we were heading to some kinda warehouse, Tank.”
“Yeah, I may have left a little part of the plan out. See, these guys like to stay off the damn grid, so someone’s gonna meet us here to give us the location. They don’t want no damn trouble, and neither do we,” he said.
“Aight.”
We waited for a half hour before we heard footsteps approaching from behind. I looked over to see a tall, scruffy man heading toward us. He hopped the metal fence, taking out a small piece of paper from his leather jacket pocket.
“Leo, it’s about damn time,” said Tank.
“I got a little held up. Just tell Rick it was on me, aight? He should be waiting for you there now. I called the fucker to let him know, but he didn’t answer. Probably smoking up.”
“We’ll head there now. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
He snorted hard, his eyes were bloodshot from what I could see under the soft streetlamp lighting that shone into the alleyway. The more I looked at him, the more I realized just how fucking strung out he was, but that didn’t matter.Just because we ain’t pushing drugs don’t mean that we can’t hook some of ’em up with some weapons.I waited until Leo was out of earshot before I turned to Tank, folding my arms across my chest.
“This Rick a druggie too?”
“Oh, please. You can’t be judging these fucks, okay? It’s not like we hooking them up with birdie powder. Besides, from what I hear, Rick’s taking off with this shit to head right on outta Arizona tomorrow. It ain’t our problem,” said Tank.
I nodded, getting ready to move out, knowing good and well that shit like this has always come to bite us in the ass at some point. I let it go because I knew how badly we needed the fucking money right now. The ride was a quiet one as the people on the streets started heading home, the parties died down, the bars closed. Even the neon signs went out, and it was like we found ourselves in the middle of a goddamn ghost town. We approached the gated warehouse with its barbed-wire fences and its tall walls. You’d think a place like this would be locked up real tight, but when we finally hopped off our bikes, we noticed that the gate was opened. I bent down to get a good look at the broken padlock. It looked like it had been hacked right off the damn chain.
“This shit don’t look good, does it?” I asked Tank.
“No, it don’t. They might’ve just got themselves in a little scuffle or something. Again, that ain’t our problem. We’re just here to drop off the weapons and pick up the cash,” Tank reminded me.
“Lemme go in first.”
Tank didn’t argue with me this time, and I reached into the holster clipped onto the back of my jeans to retrieve my handgun. I held it close to me in case any one of these fuckers tried any funny business. My wounds were still aching as I moved in, but I didn’t care.This is the job. Take it or leave it,I thought, remembering Tank’s words when he named me sergeant-at-arms. I inched closer to the warehouse doors that were slightly cracked open. I spotted something dark splattered across the handle, and when I got close enough, I realized it was blood. My eyes widened as I pushed it open to find four bodies lying dead on the ground, each with a bullet wound straight between the eyes.
Some of them were tied up, hands and feet, their sigils ripped right off their jackets, laying in a pile on the ground. I got close enough to see that I didn’t recognize them.Out of towners, huh?
“Any of these fuckers your buddy, Rick?” I asked.
“That one,” said Tank, with a sigh.
I gazed down at the older man, his eyes a striking blue, his face frozen in that look of shock with his mouth hanging open. His beard was a soft blond, a perfect match to his raised eyebrows that may never fall again.
“How the fuck did this happen? I went through all that fucking trouble with Leo to avoid shit like this. Fuck!”
I was about to say something comforting when I heard footsteps coming from the other end of the warehouse. I tapped Tank on his shoulder, and I pointed to the open doors.
“We got company,” I whispered.
I watched as he pulled his gun out, a much larger, much more menacing one than mine. We both took off the duffel bags that were slung over our shoulders, dropping them at our feet.
“If we ain’t gonna get paid for these, we might as well have a little fun with ’em, eh?”
“You’re damn right.”
He handed me one beautiful submachine gun that could blow someone’s fucking head off in one go. I watched as two men rushed in with their guns pointed directly at us. I looked behind them to see the two fuckers that nearly killed me on the side of the road, and I was ready to let it rip. I didn’t even think, barreling toward them with my gun firing off, trying to deal with the ridiculous recoil on the thing. Tank was safely behind me, watching as the first two dropped like flies. The two I recognized didn’t have the same smug looks on their faces like they did before, and I knew it was finally my damn time to shine.
I shot the large, hulking one right in the face, and blood spewed out, coating the concrete floors beneath us. I saw the look in the lanky fucker’s eyes, like he sure as hell didn’t want to end up like his buddy. He dropped his weapon, kicking it away as I got closer to him. I pressed the barrel right up to his forehead, and he was shaking so violently I thought he was gonna pass the fuck out.
“Please. Please, don’t kill me,” he begged.
“Ha, and wasn’t that exactly what you were gonna do to me when you ran me off the fucking road?”
