Page 44

FORTY-THREE

TEN STRIDES

The speed with which Wolfe collected vital intel during missions never ceased to amaze Kane. By the time he’d driven halfway to Ten Strides, a busy little mining town approximately an hour’s drive away, he’d received enough information to complete his first mission. The group of dealers worked from a dilapidated building on the edge of town and employed local children to sell their drugs. All of the men in charge had been identified as suspects in vicious murders but had escaped arrest by relocating their operation when conditions became too hot. As the lights of the town came into view, Kane pulled the old truck to the side of the road to read the blueprints of the building Wolfe had just sent him. It had once been a printing factory and had fallen into disrepair when the railroad bypassed the town.

Neglected for thirty years, deserted buildings made up most of Ten Strides, but when the mining companies moved in, the railroad spur to the town had reopened and prosperity reigned. As workers became rich, the lowlifes of society moved in to take their money. This drug distribution area had once belonged to Souza, and in the few months he’d been in prison, a new band of dealers had stepped in. From the information China had given him, the men had once worked for Souza but found a new supplier in his absence. When Souza ordered them to deal only with him, they had refused.

Kane considered all aspects of completing the task Souza had set him to prove his loyalty. He had never been a killer for hire. His job was to protect people from a greater harm, so going into the building and blasting away was not an option. If he took out the main players, which would ingratiate him with Souza, someone would need to come in behind him and get any children involved out of their current situation. Many of the children who worked for drug syndicates were either recruited from local gangs or were runaways. He checked the blueprints on his phone. “Have you had eyes on this building?”

“Someone has.” Wolfe cleared his throat. “What do you need to know?”

Kane checked the aerial images of the street. “Beside it used to be an old fire station. If I can get onto the roof, I’ll be able to jump onto the top of the building and enter through the hatch and take them by surprise. Have you come up with a way to ensure there are no kids there when I arrive?”

“Yeah, it took some doing.” Wolfe’s truck engine roared. “The DEA had a guy undercover for the last six months. They’re aware of what’s happening and the method of delivering the drugs. Addicts call a certain number and use a code to purchase something specific. The kids ride out on bicycles to meet the customers. The DEA has two confidential informants on the payroll, so have everything they need to make a purchase. The only way to get all the kids away at the same time is to call the numbers and get them out on deliveries. When they arrive with the drugs, they’ll be taken into custody. We’ll need split-second timing to achieve this without any of them alerting the main players.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’ll give you the heads-up when the kids are clear. We’re getting close. Use the coms from now on.”

Relieved that none of the kids would be injured or witness what was about to happen, Kane nodded. He shut down his phone and slid it underneath his seat. From this point on, all he would need was the miniature com in his ear. He tapped the earring. “I suggest you start making the calls when I get onto the roof. Once I see the kids leaving the building, I’ll go clean out the rats’ nest.”

Kane drove through the surprisingly busy little town and parked his truck outside the local bar. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and scanned the street without moving his head. Loud music drifted on the air along with the smell of stale beer. He grabbed his duffel from the passenger seat and slung it over one shoulder. From the map, the local dealers distributed drugs from a building in a street behind Main. As he turned the corner the stark contrast between the middle of town and the backroads was remarkable. Empty buildings stretched out as far as the eye could see. Many had rusty old vehicles parked outside as if people had just walked away and left them. Buildings had been burned and stood as charcoal shells, their blackened insides like rotten teeth in an open mouth.

Kids on bicycles hung out in groups outside a dilapidated building. Graffiti covered the walls, and the windows were boarded up. Senses on high alert, Kane stuck to the shadows and approached with caution. He slid into the firehouse entrance and edged his way along the building to recon the drug den. The sounds of laughter, clinking bottles, and voices came from inside. He moved back into the body of the firehouse. “This might be a setup. I can hear more than three people inside and there are seven kids outside with bicycles, so I guess they’re expecting a big night as it’s Friday. Orders.”

“Proceed with caution.” Wolfe’s voice had fallen into its usual mission calmness. “I’m close by on Main.”

With no time to waste, Kane headed straight for the firefighters’ pole. Designed to be slippery to slide down fast, climbing up hand over hand wasn’t easy with a full duffel over one shoulder.

Heaving himself through the hole and onto a dusty floor, Kane waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before searching for the steps to the roof. He smiled as his tiny flashlight picked up the signage, faded but still readable on the doors along the wall. Papers, dust, and cobwebs littered the entire area. Scratching noises came from the corners and red eyes blinked back at him. He dragged open the door to the roof and it whined in complaint. It had been so long since someone had opened it that it stuck halfway. Kane slipped through, dragging his duffel behind him and took the stairs to the roof.

The roof appeared to be sound but the gap between the buildings was wider than anticipated. He touched his com. “I’m on the roof. Get the kids out of here.”

“Copy.”

Kane removed his belt and attached it to the shoulder strap on his duffel. Keeping out of sight, he went to the edge of the roof, spun the duffel above his head, and let it go. It sailed across the gap, landing on the opposite roof with a soft plop. Gauging the width of the gap and noting the rough broken red brick along the edge of the roof, he pulled on gloves. Emptying his mind, he walked backward and took a few deep breaths before sprinting to the edge of the roof. Exhilaration spiked an adrenaline rush as he flew across the gap. The air rushed from his lungs as he landed and rolled, ending up beside the roof hatch. He lay still in a pile of dead moldy leaves for a few seconds, listening, but only the sounds of the music and men’s voices came from the dilapidated building. Moving with caution, he crawled to the edge of the roof and peered over. One by one the kids were called inside and then left scurrying away on their bicycles.

Moving silently, Kane tried the roof hatch and he pulled it open. Using his flashlight, he peered inside before risking the steps. Dirt and debris crunched under his boots and the hum of a generator came from close by. He slipped through a side door, moving silently through the darkened passageways. Ahead, light crept from under a door and the throb of music came through his boots. He checked the door for any devices or wires, and confident to proceed, he placed one hand on the doorknob and it turned. Slowly, inch by inch, he opened it and pressed one eye to the crack. He found five men inside. One with his back to him was taking stacks of bills from a counting machine and securing them with rubber bands. The other four chilled on a sofa. On a coffee table lay guns surrounded by takeout and empty beer bottles. On one end sat three piles of drugs in small plastic bags, and all the men held phones, waving them as they spoke, as if waiting for the next order. No kids.

Dropping into the zone, he lowered his duffel to the floor and drew his M18 pistol. How the next few minutes went down depended entirely on the five men. Taking a deep breath, he burst into the room. The men went for their guns, but most people caught by an intruder are slow to react. The moment one raised his gun, Kane took him out. One down. As they fumbled to kill him, he moved with precision: single shots, center mass. Three down.

A screaming woman bolted from an open doorway and jumped on his back, attempting to rake his face with her fingernails. The startled man left alive on the sofa dropped his pistol and dove over the coffee table to retrieve it. Kane holstered his weapon, spun around with his back to the man counting money, and reached up to grab her by the wrists. In her haste to attack him, she’d become a shield. Two bullets hit her, one passing right through and scraping a path across Kane’s shoulder. He tossed her body at the man with the gun as the massive man counting the money lunged at him aiming a wild punch.

Ducking and delivering a swift uppercut to the jaw, Kane sent him staggering. He drew his weapon and spun around as the other dealer tossed the body of the woman to the floor and aimed at him. Two taps and the man slid down the wall, jerked a few times, and died. Four down. The fifth man had quickly recovered and was approaching with a chair raised high above his head.

“I’m gonna beat you to death.” The massive man brought the chair down.

Dancing away as the breeze from the chair brushed his cheek, Kane shook his head. “Never bring a chair to a gunfight.”

As the man came again, eyes bulging with rage, Kane shot him in the throat and spun around to check for others, but the only sound in the room came from a phone on a table beside a bill-counting machine. The gangster rap music fit the carnage alongside the stench of gunpowder, male sweat, beer, and death. He cleared the other rooms and then checked the bodies for ID and found none. Taking from his pocket the phone China had supplied when she set up the meeting, he captured images of the dead. Gritting his teeth, he retrieved his duffel and collected the drugs and the stacks of bills. The thing with fentanyl, it didn’t weigh much at all, but the idea of returning it and the cash to Souza gnawed at his guts. He hoisted the duffel over one shoulder and pulled a hand grenade from one of the pockets. This place and all the bodies needed to be destroyed. As he walked from the building, he tossed the grenade and then ran at full pelt into an alleyway as the explosion rocked the night. The blast wave hit him in a wall of heat as shattered glass, metal fragments, and broken bricks rushed along the alleyway. Flying out of the entrance flanked by smoke dust and debris, he hurried back to his truck. Inquisitive people spilled out of the bars as he dropped the duffel on the passenger seat and tapped his com. “Six targets down. Five male, one female. The female wasn’t mine. I caught a bullet. It skimmed my shoulder. I’ll need a first aid kit.”

“Copy. There’s one behind the seat, extra ammo, and spare gloves.”

Kane turned the truck around and headed back to Jezabel. “Thanks. I insisted on delivering the goods and the images in person or the deal’s off, and when China put it to him, he agreed.”

“I heard. Into the lion’s den.” Wolfe started his engine. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Kane shook his head. “Stay back. Souza is street-smart to the max. He’ll have men posted along the way. He’ll be expecting me to have backup. When I go in, I’ll be unarmed. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” Wolfe blew out a long breath but said nothing.

Kane accelerated, wishing he could hear the purr of the Beast’s engine. “Tonight we end this once and for all.”