Joshua (Book 2): Traveler (3 page)

“What about coming at them from underneath?”

“I thought of that too, late in the day I snuck in through the back door to confirm what I already thought.”

“Which is?”

“That you can’t get at them that way either, there’s just too much junk to get through. There is a door where the top of the staircase was but it’s nearly impossible to get to. It might be conceivable to get at them that way ... but there’s no way to do it quickly, or quietly.”

“We’ve still got some bug bombs, think they might work?”

“I thought of that too, I don’t think they would work either. You would have to throw them close from the street into a third-story window. Trying to put one through a small window from fifteen ... twenty meters away, and probably with someone shooting back at you, not much chance of success. Just going to waste them ... and get one of our guys killed.”

“How about throwing them into the drugstore underneath?”

“Again, not much chance of success, I doubt the fumes would even get to the third floor.”

“Okay, so what’s your opinion, how would you do it?”

“Well, Boss, there’s only two ways as far as I can see. Like I said, they’re dug in pretty good. So we’re either going to have to wait them out, or we could try a Trojan Horse, but I don’t really want to put Nicky in danger.”

“Well, we agree on that. I’m not going to send Nicky up there. I’m sure he could talk himself in ...” Robert stopped and ruffled the mop of hair on the smiling boy at his side, “but that husband sounds very cautious. James looks harmless enough and he searched him. He would probably search Nicky too ... and what if he got caught trying to lower the ladder down? That could turn into an ugly situation, quickly.”

“Yep, that’s how I saw it too.”

“Okay, so you think we should wait them out. How long are we going to have to wait? Did they even come out when you were there?”

Alton finally took a sip of his coffee, “No, they didn’t,” then stroked his chin. “How long are we going to have to wait ... well, that’s the big question, isn’t it?”

Robert sat there a moment rubbing his short cropped hair and turned to James who was at the back of the crowd. “James, do they have a toilet?”

“They’ve got one but it doesn’t work, they’re using one of those camping toilets ... you know, like a bucket with a lid on it.”

“So they have to empty it. Did you see anywhere in the apartment where they might empty it out?”

James thought about it a moment, “I don’t remember seeing anything like that ... or smelling it.”

Robert turned to Alton again, “Did you see them dumping anything out the windows?”

“No, not a thing.”

The boss was deliberating while they all watched, “Well they’ve got to do something with it. They must be coming out and dumping it somewhere.”

Surprisingly Cornwell had something important to say, “When I was watching the back I noticed something, didn’t think much of it at the time ...”

He now had all of their attention, especially the boss, “What?”

“Back behind that building is an empty lot, there was a shovel stuck in the ground, and it looked like there were several small holes that had been dug and covered back up.”

Robert had a plan now. “They’re burying their waste back there. All we have to do is wait until one of them comes down, then we’ll take them hostage. Once we have one hostage we can make the other one surrender.”

Rob and Alton worked out the plan while the others took note. It was decided they would get some sleep right then because this time they would all be waking at three hundred hours.

James lay there in his bed a while unable to sleep, wondering if he just got somebody killed.

At five hundred hours that next morning, they approached the edge of town, only two blocks down from their intended target. Nicky, James, and Peavey were left there with the cart, and told to settle in but come running when they were called.

The rest of the group got ready, taking only their guns, ammo, and several days’ worth of rations with them. Then they silently crept through the dark alleys taking their assigned positions, and waiting.

The first day was a long one and nothing happened. James spent most of the day sitting in the shadows keeping out of the sun, wondering if this would ever end. That night he hardly slept at all, every unknown sound unnerving him. Peavey and Nicky on the other hand had no trouble sleeping. In fact, the child lay there, wrapped in a blanket on the hard concrete, peacefully dreaming.

Just after seven hundred hours that next morning, things started stirring. By 7:35, it was time for the show.

Robert softly spoke into his radio, “This is Wolf, radio check, everybody check in.”

Through some static came Alton’s voice, faintly, “Coyote, checking in, you’re good.”

After another few seconds the silence was barely broken again, McCain this time on the other end, “Jackal, checking in.”

Hidden amid the garbage in the front of the flower shop Robert coordinated the attack. “They’re looking out the windows right now. Everybody stand by. They’ve checked every one and now they’re in the east Main Street window.”

With another minute of the tension building, and more than a day of waiting, it finally started happening. Rob was quick with the play by play, “Okay, here we go. They’ve lowered a bucket down to the ground with a rope. Now they’ve dropped the ladder. Coyote, they’re using the window closest to the alley, so this will be your show. Jackal, you stand by, if they try to run west you be there to stop them. But everybody remember, there’s another one up there with a gun, so whoever comes down grab them quick and get back out of the line of fire.”

Now a figure appeared in the window, feet first, clumsily lowering himself to the ground.

Rob was still quietly giving orders from the trash strewn storefront, “This is it. It’s the man. He’s armed with a handgun on the right side of his belt. He’s also got a shotgun slung across his back. Coyote, this guy is yours; I’ll let you know when he’s almost on the ground.” With another few seconds the time for discretion was gone, “COYOTE GO!”

Just as the man dropped to the pavement he found three men atop of him. D’Cruz and Cornwell knocked him face down on the ground and fixed him there with his arms twisted back and his mouth clamped shut.

Alton snatched the revolver out of the holster and shoved it into his own waistband. He pulled a knife and hastily sliced through the sling of the shotgun, taking it right off his back. The three hurriedly got him on his feet and rushed him back into the alley, all before he had the chance to make a sound.

Right then came a desperate yelling from the third-story window, it was the woman’s, “Mark! Mark, what’s going on?! MARK!”

Alton used zip ties to bind his arms back behind him while Cornwell held him against the wall, D’Cruz held him too and covered his mouth with his hand.

“MARK?! MARK, ANSWER ME!”

From the broken out front of the old flower shop there came an unfamiliar man’s voice. “We’ve got your husband, if you want to see him alive again you’ll come on down.”

Without warning, three loud shots rang out in quick succession. She had no idea where the voice was coming from and was firing wild. Still, everyone got down. She screamed out at the unseen stranger, “Where’s my husband?!”

Robert gave her a moment to settle down and then tried to calm her with his reasonable voice. “We have your husband, lady. We haven’t hurt him, and we don’t want to. We don’t want to hurt him or you, all we want is your stuff. If you come down, unarmed, you have my word that neither of you will be hurt.”

The woman wasn’t entirely believing as her screaming became even more frantic, “Where’s my husband?! You killed him, didn’t you?! WHERE IS HE?!”

“Your husband is fine.” Rob got on the radio with Alton, “Coyote, let the guy talk, maybe he can calm her down.”

Alton signaled D’Cruz who let go of the man’s mouth, “I’m okay, honey. They haven’t hurt me. Stay calm.”

“Where are you?!”

“I’m in the alley, three guys are holding me. Stay where you are! Don’t come down! Whatever you do don’t come down!”

Robert was back on the radio again, “Shut him up!” and then right back to the wife with his sensible tone. “That would be a mistake, lady. All we want is your stuff. We don’t want to hurt either of you. But, if you don’t come down right now you’re going to make us hurt him. Please, come down. You have my word if you do no one will get hurt.”

The husband broke loose of D’Cruz’s grip, “Don’t believe them, honey! They’re liars, they’ll say anything! Stay where you are! You’re safe right there! They know you’d kill all of them before they could get to the top!”

The boss was on the radio again and now he could hardly contain the anger, “SHUT HIM UP! I’m coming over!” Robert could see the woman as she was hanging out the window, trying to peer around the corner. He stood up, and jumped right through the broken storefront. Rob hit the ground at a sprint, dashed across the street into the alley and made it to cover as a single shot rang out. The bullet was ten feet behind him. Then he got back on the radio again, “Jackal, from your position can you still see all the windows?”

McCain had watched it all from the opposite end, “Yes, we can see all of them.”

“Okay, just continue watching them for now.”

He turned to the husband; D’Cruz and Cornwell held him while Rob tried to talk some sense into the man, “I want to have a sane conversation. You think you can talk without screaming or name calling ... or cussing or spitting?”

The man gave a nod.

“D’Cruz, let him go. You know you’re going to get your wife killed, you know that, don’t you?”

“You’ll kill her anyway ... if you get a hold of her. No telling what you monsters would do to her. But you won’t get her. She’s a good shot, she’ll kill all of you before you get anywhere near her.”

“I told you I don’t want to hurt anyone ...”

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you. I’ve seen your kind before, and I’ve seen what you do to people, especially women. So no, I don’t believe it when you say you won’t hurt us.”

Rob was frustrated, and it showed, “Okay, I can see it’s no good talking to you. D’Cruz.”

D’Cruz shut him up again.

He thought things over and after a moment Rob got back on his radio, “Jackal, do you still have some of those incendiary shotgun rounds?”

McCain was quick with a reply, “You mean those ‘Dragon’s breath’ rounds? Yeah, I’ve still got some.”

“From where you’re at, can you put some through one of the Main Street windows? You think you could set the curtains on fire?”

“Yes, I could do that, It’ll have to be the window furthest from you. I’ve got a much better shot at that one. Do you want me to kill the woman when she tries to put out the fire?”

“No! Don’t kill anyone. Just set the curtains on fire. Give me five seconds and do it.” Rob grabbed him by his collar and all of them moved the husband to the front edge of the alley, barely peeking around the corner. “Watch this.”

Just at the designated time, McCain stepped out around an old van with his favorite weapon, a well-worn Remington 870 with the barrel professionally cut down to twelve and a half inches. Without delay, he shouldered it and began; it threw a stream of fire thirty-five feet right through the window. After rapidly shooting four rounds, McCain dropped back down out of sight.

He made the husband watch the horror of it all and immediately dragged him back into the alley. Then Rob’s men held him against the wall and kept his mouth shut. Rob seized the man by the neck and got right in his face. “You’re going to get her killed. You’re going to get her shot ... or worse; you ever see somebody burn to death? It’s not pretty. It’s not quick, and it’s not painless. Now imagine watching the woman you love dying like that. This is your last chance to get out of this alive. I’m giving you this chance because I made a promise. If you’re smart you’ll take it. I know you’ve seen ‘my kind’ before so you don’t have any real reason to take my word for it, but you better. And this is it. I’m giving you my word that you or your wife will not be hurt if you give up now. You can either take my word for it, or we can go back around the corner and you can watch your wife die.”

Rob got back on the radio again, “Jackal, what’s going on?”

McCain answered, “She put out the fire. I had a perfect shot but now she’s stepped back from the window.”

Rob turned to the husband again, “What’s it going to be? D’Cruz, let him go.”

Mister Whitman was beaten at last, “Okay, I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“No, you really don’t.”

The husband talked his wife down and the two to them were searched and tied to street signs, sitting on the sidewalk with their hands locked behind them. Rob made sure they were shaded from the sun.

After that was done, they yelled for Peavey and the boys to bring the cart up. Robert, along with McCain, D’Cruz, and Martinelli, stayed down on the ground while the rest shimmied up the rickety ladder. After a few moments, an assortment of loud hoots and cheers could be heard when the men first saw all the treasures that surrounded them.

As Peavey and the boys were coming around the corner, the husband got the first good look at his betrayer. James was startled, but happy, when he saw both of them were still alive.

Mr. Whitman had some things to say, “I knew it! You miserable little bastard! I knew you were the reason for this! We fed you! We took care of you ... and you betrayed us! I hope you rot in hell for this! You hear me?! ROT IN HELL!”

James stood there silently taking the abuse, until finally Robert had to intervene, “Okay, that’s enough!”

“Enough?! Not nearly enough! Rot in hell! You hear me, you betraying son of a bitch?! ROT ... IN ... HELL!”

Rob gave Whitman the back of his hand, “Not another word! So, he did tell us about you. What kind of loyalty were you expecting for a can of soup? For the record, he didn’t volunteer a thing, we had to trick it out of him. You might also want to note he’s the one I promised that you wouldn’t be hurt. If it wasn’t for him, I’m reasonably sure the two of you would be dead now.”