“I see only two guards,” Marco whispered as we hid behind the trees right across from the entrance to the underground garage. There was only a metal container aboveground, and I doubted a whole bunch of people were hiding in there. No one from my family was here. My shoulders relaxed a little, but my stomach did a nervous flip. My family was out there fighting Roberto’s men, and if something happened to them... I couldn’t even imagine that.
“Good,” Aaron said, looking back at the endless grass. The sun was already going down, casting a reddish glow on the field and trees. “The secret entrance should be around here somewhere.”
“What about those two guys? We could take them out from here. Make sure the others rush out,” Marco said, lifting the gun he’d taken from the car.
“No!” Aaron shoved the gun down. “The last thing we need is for them to lock themselves in there or start moving the shipment somewhere else.”
“It wouldn’t be safe for them to move it anywhere if the Ferraras are nearby,” Marco said.
“Maybe, but if they don’t have a choice and they know the Ferraras are coming here...” Aaron waved his hand. “Follow me. We need to get to that shipment before anyone else.” His eyes briefly met mine, but they were guarded. He didn’t want me to see how he was feeling about this... about me being here with them. Maybe a part of him was contemplating putting a bullet in my head just to make sure I didn’t shoot him first since I had two guns on me, but he didn’t say anything, just strode through the field.
“Here,” he said a couple of moments later, pointing at the spot where the grass was thinner.
Marcos crouched and patted the ground.
“I hope there aren’t any snakes here,” I said.
Marco’s eyes went wide. “Jesus, woman! Don’t say such things.”
“Are you afraid of snakes?”
“Of course not.” Marco gave me a hard look, but his hand was shaking a little. He definitely was afraid of snakes. “Got it. Not a snake. The door.” He pulled a rusty knob he’d uncovered and opened what resembled a manhole. We peered inside, but all we could see were the steps and the dark ground. There was a faint light coming from somewhere, which meant once we went through we’d be out in the open.
“Follow me. Shoot anyone you see,” Aaron whispered as he lowered himself down, grimacing a little, probably because of his sore ribs. I waited for Marco, but he extended his arm, directing me to go after Aaron. I assumed he wanted to keep an eye on me and didn’t trust me at his back. Great.
Aaron had already gotten down and was waving at me to hurry, which meant there weren’t any guards in sight. That didn’t mean someone wouldn’t come running or be alerted of our presence, so I climbed down, Marco coming after me, gun in hand. I jumped down and found myself in between two old rusty cars. This place really was an old underground garage, and we were in the farthest corner, or at least I thought we were. It was impossible to see from all the supporting columns obstructing my view.
But there was no mistake what all that whiteness peeking from in between the columns was. We’d found the trucks. I drew out my gun, just as Aaron lifted his and indicated with his fingers that we should follow him and keep close to the walls. As we approached, I looked around for any cameras, but I couldn’t see anything. For all I knew, they were hidden.
The three of us crouched behind a huge trash container that had been just dumped in the middle of two parking spots and stunk of something rotten. I so didn’t want to know what had been thrown in there. Muffled voices could be heard as someone made their way around the trucks, probably the guards.
Aaron peered above the container, then quickly crouched down, hissing in pain. He raised three fingers, which meant he’d seen three guards.
“We should split up and surprise them,” Marco whispered.
“They’re coming!” someone shouted, his voice full of panic.
“Get the truck!” another man yelled. The sound of multiple feet rang out through the garage, and the three of us exchanged quick looks.
“Someone’s coming. Either your people or mine,” Aaron said to me. “We have to move or they’re going to get away. Can’t avoid engaging the guards now.”
Marco and I nodded.
“We have to split up and run like hell. They’ll shoot to kill, so be careful,” Aaron said.
“Kill or be killed,” I whispered, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. Still, I jumped up to my feet and ran, aiming my gun at the guard closest to me. He shouted when he saw me, and the first bullet missed him, but I got him before he could get his gun from his belt. More shots rang out, and I hid behind the first truck, sneaking around it, farther away from the yelling and shooting.
I opened the door and went through the papers that were on the driver’s seat, but all I found was a paper with number three on it. Wrong fucking truck. I slammed the door just as another of the guards came into view. Throwing myself to the ground, I avoided the bullets the guard had fired. I barely had time to roll over and fire, hitting the guy in the stomach. A spark of pain spread through my arm, and I realized one of the bullets the guy had fired before falling to the ground had grazed me lightly.
The screech of tires not far from me indicated that more people had arrived at the garage. The only thing I didn’t know was if it was more of our enemy or my family. Or maybe it was both. Shit! My head was ringing from the shots fired and I stumbled to my feet, aware that I wouldn’t be able to hear if someone came up from behind me. Keeping myself close to the wall, I counted the trucks and set my eyes on the one that was supposed to be the fifth. Except Aaron was there firing at someone I couldn’t see.
I scurried from one truck to another like a mouse. Glancing at the truck, I wondered how I could get to it and how to destroy the drug. I didn’t even know what it looked like, but I assumed setting it on fire would work. Now if only I could find something that would help me do that. Surely there had to be something in here that could start a fire...
Careful not to be seen, I opened the door of another truck and climbed onto the seat. I was glad the fight was on the other side of the garage and not here, but that also meant it was more likely my family or their men were here. They’d probably parked their cars in the middle of the garage to form a shield and were exchanging fire. Speaking of a different kind of fire, I spotted what I’d been looking for. A book of matches. I immediately slipped it into my pocket. The driver had to be a smoker because there were cigarette butts on the dashboard.
A bullet embedded itself into the windshield, making me yelp. The glass cracked in various places and I ducked down as another bullet brought it crashing down. I knew whoever it was that was shooting at me would have to come around the door that I’d left open, so I crouched low. The glass on the door exploded into thousands of pieces, forcing me to close my eyes for a moment.
The shots paused, so I jumped out and lifted the gun, firing through the now missing window, most of my body shielded by the door. Someone grunted, and a few bullets embedded themselves in the door but didn’t go through it. When my gun was empty, I threw it to the ground and got the second one. I waited for a few moments, but no one tried to shoot at me, so I risked a peek around the door. The shooter was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Letting out a shaky breath, I got to my feet and looked toward the fifth truck.
Aaron was nowhere in sight, but someone was trying to climb into the driver’s seat but was yanked out. Looking around me, sweat beading my forehead, I made a mad dash toward the right truck. No one fired at me, but a small canister in between two trucks caught my attention. There was another one, but it had been overturned and was lying there, empty, and smelling strongly of gasoline.
Santini’s men had probably wanted to make sure the trucks had enough fuel to get wherever they were supposed to go, since their original plan had been different and possibly involved shorter routes, or if the trucks didn’t run on gasoline, maybe they planned to use it to get rid of anything that could be used as evidence after they delivered the drug.
I ran toward the canister, but just as I was about to grab it, I looked up and saw Jason running across the parking lot, gun in hand, but not far from him was Marco, his gun ready. Marco saw my brother and took aim. I opened my mouth to scream, but I had no idea if I’d done it or not. My whole head was reverberating, my heart skipping a beat. Marco fired and I stopped breathing.
The bullet whizzed just past my brother, who rolled on the ground and disappeared behind one of the cars. I breathed a sigh of relief, unsure whether Marco had missed on purpose or it had been pure luck that my brother hadn’t been hit. My mind was like mush, and for a second, I couldn’t think. A bullet hitting close to me made me jump, and I dashed back behind the truck, hoping no one had seen me. I still held the canister in my hand.
Pressing myself against the wall, I crouched and lowered the canister to the ground. My family was here, and I didn’t know if any of my brothers were hurt. Was my father here too? Oh God. Shots were still being fired, voices were still yelling, but I couldn’t hear or understand anything. Fifth truck. I had to get to that damn truck and destroy the drug before anyone working for the Viteris could get to it. Once that was gone, maybe they’d run away as there would be nothing left to protect. No one could get and sell the drug, and take over the world.
I didn’t know what my family would do, but I was sure they wouldn’t sell it if they knew how dangerous it was, even if it could help them defeat the Viteris once and for all. But I had to stop this and... My thoughts flew to Aaron. Had he been hurt? Killed? My mouth went dry just at the thought. I shook my head, closing my eyes for a second. I could do this. I could. I’d think about the rest later.
Gathering my strength, I got to my feet and peered around the truck. A few dead bodies lay scattered around, but it wasn’t anyone familiar. When I was sure the air was clear, I picked up the canister, gripped the gun in my other hand, and raced toward the back of the fifth truck. A figure stood there, opening the back of the truck. Lowering the canister in case I had to dodge any bullets, I inched closer. As if he could sense me, the figure turned around.
Aaron. We stood there for a moment, completely frozen. Then we pointed our guns at each other’s heads.