Running on Empty (44 page)

‘They’re clean boss’ he said simply.

‘Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?’ asked Gorgeous. ‘Now, I know who this sorry-ass is that’s standing beside you, but I don’t know shit about you’ he continued, addressing Tom. ‘Why don’t you start by telling me your name, and to what I owe the dubious honor of you coming to visit me, all the way from Nebraska, as you claim?’

‘The name’s Gerry, Gerry Willis, and I’m here to talk’ answered Tom.

‘About?’

Tom turned from Gorgeous to Joey, removing the bag from his shoulder, before tossing it over to Gorgeous.

‘This’.

Gorgeous unzipped the bag, examining the contents, before handing it to skinhead.

‘Do a test on this, will ya’ he said quietly, before turning back to Tom. The skinhead headed into another room, clutching the holdall.

‘Don’t take offence, but I paid a tidy packet for the contents of that bag. I’m just making sure I’m getting what I paid for. I’m still not completely clear what you’re doing here though. Mind elaborating?’

Tom fixed Gorgeous with a stare.

‘The operation in Nebraska is under new management, and I’m representing the new owner. This new owner is a very cautious and thorough operator, who doesn’t like to see any area of his operation in danger of compromise. He likes to ensure that every section of this operation is performed to the highest standard, which includes transportation to his clients.

‘And?’

‘And, to put it bluntly, he thinks your side of the organization is shit’.

‘Say what?’ Gorgeous visibly stiffened in his chair.

‘No offence meant, but he’s right. To entrust the transportation of such a valuable cargo to’ Tom turned to Joey, ‘such a doped up airhead is quite frankly crazy. Like I said, the operation is under new management, and with new management comes a new price structure’.

‘What? You and your boss trying to fucking stiff me?’

‘Not at all. There will be a five percent increase in the unit price, but included in that price will be a proper transportation system. Basically, for that increase, you get the merchandise delivered by hand to you, guaranteed within three days of placing an order. So you see my boss isn’t trying to rip you off, just making sure every aspect of our transaction runs smoothly’.

Gorgeous rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes drifting to Joey, then back again to Tom.

‘Five per cent is a bit heavy, just for a fucking mule’ he said finally, half to himself.

‘Not for it to be done properly’ countered Tom.

‘Ok, tell your boss I’ll go along with it, provided everything works out as good as you say’.

‘It will’ answered Tom. ‘It’s been a long trip, don’t suppose there’s a coffee going a begging?’ he asked, stretching. As he did so, he placed his hands on the back of his head.

‘This ain’t no fucking Starbucks’ answered Gorgeous.

‘Yeah well, no harm in asking’ replied Tom, holding three fingers out at the base of his skull.

Hope to hell Pat’s looking,
he thought.

Pat observed through the scope.

‘Three of them Brad’ he whispered into the mike.

‘Roger that’ answered Brad,
three in the room, plus the lookout on the steps outside.

Suddenly, Joey came out of his trance.

‘Where’s Melody?’

‘Your bitch is inside, resting’ answered Gorgeous, smiling. ‘She needs her rest, that girl of yours. Had a hectic few days while you’ve been away’.

Joey headed to the bedroom.

‘We had to restrain her’ called Gorgeous after him, ‘that’s one fucking wildcat you got there boy’.

The sight that confronted Joey as he reached the room shocked him out of his stupor. Melody lay unconscious and naked on the bed. Her wrists were bound to the bedpost, and there were multiple bruises on her upper legs and groin. A red mist descended over Joey, enveloping him, dispelling the fear and anxiety he had felt since setting foot in that apartment. All he could think about was retribution.

‘You fucking animal’ screamed Joey, turning towards Gorgeous, ready to tear him apart. As if by magic, a gun appeared in Gorgeous’ hand, pointing squarely at Joey’s temple.

‘What’d you call me you fucking junkie ass-wipe? hissed Gorgeous, ‘you shut the fuck up or you’re one dead motherfucker’.

Tom stiffened, fear and anxiety etched in his features. It was all going terribly wrong. He could see that Joey had lost the plot. Everything they’d talked about beforehand had gone out the window, and all the pain and suffering Joey had experienced these last few months were about to make him erupt, like a wounded animal that had been cornered. Tom could feel cold droplets of perspiration trickling down the back of his shirt. Brad’s earpiece crackled into life.

‘Get up there Brad. It’s all going pear-shaped, get up there quick’ urged Pat.

Tom took a step towards Gorgeous.

‘Hey man, chill. Let’s all calm down a bit. There’s no need for this. He’s just upset, is all. Leave him be’ pleaded Tom, terrified his kid brother was going to be gunned down in front of his eyes. Gorgeous shifted the weapon from Joey, training it on Tom.

‘Now what the fuck are you concerned about? Why should you give a shit whether I waste this fuck-up junkie? What’s he to you? There’s something fishy about this whole set-up. Maybe that’s just what it is, a set-up. Come to think of it, I don’t know you from shit. You say you’re from Nebraska, but that don’t mean nothin’. Hell, I could say I’m from the North Pole. I think I’ll make a coupla calls before I believe another word outta your fuckin’ mouth, pretty boy’.

Gorgeous picked up his cell phone, while his other hand kept the gun pointed at Tom, who glanced at the others in the room. Joey seemed to have calmed down, and was returning to his state of resigned stupor. Or was he? Tom wasn’t sure, but thought he could detect a hint of recognition in his brothers eyes, as if a cloud was slowly lifting. The skinhead had a smirk on his lips, savoring the moment, eager to see if his boss was going to waste these two assholes. Even pipe man had perked up, watching and waiting.

‘You’re making a big mistake’ Tom managed to utter, with as much authority as his voice could muster, ‘my boss isn’t going to be pleased about this’.

‘We’ll see, motherfucker, we’ll see’ answered Gorgeous, as he began dialing.

There was a loud rap on the steel door. Gorgeous stopped mid-dial, as all heads turned towards the door.

‘What the fuck..?

Another loud knock.

‘Who’s there? And what the fuck do you want?’

‘Maintenance’ shouted a muffled voice from the other side, ‘electrical maintenance. There’s a problem with the wiring in the building, and if it’s not sorted, we may have to evacuate before the whole place goes up in smoke’.

Gorgeous cancelled his cell call to Nebraska, and speed dialed the leather jacket out front.

‘TC, you know anything ‘bout a maintenance guy in the building?’

‘Oh yeah boss, there’s some old dude going round the building with a ladder’ he answered hesitatingly, knowing that he should have been a bit more observant earlier, instead of having all his concentration taken up by that Irish bitch.
Where was she anyhow? She should’ve been back by now.

‘Hey mister repair man’ hollered Gorgeous, ‘it ain’t convenient now. Why don’t you call back in a bit?’

‘If this isn’t sorted now, I won’t be calling back. The next caller will be the Fire Brigade. Two minutes’ll check whether the problems with you or not. Can you smell burning in there?’

‘For fucks sake, talk about timing’ said Gorgeous, returning the phone to his ear. ‘TC, you keep your fucking eyes peeled down there, y’hear? You see anything, start blasting, ok?’

He turned back to Tom.

‘This gun goes into my pocket, but it’s still aimed at your ass pretty boy. Any sign of trouble, and you’ll be the first to cop it, quickly followed by your new-found junkie buddy and mister repair man, gottit?’

Tom nodded.

‘Now, open the fucking door, pretty boy’

Pat had been observing through the scope. He spoke in Brad’s earpiece.

‘The guy in the chair has a gun. He’s put it away, but I think it’s still in play, probably pointing at Tom. I’m going to have to take him out. You’re going to have to take out the muscle-bound skinhead, and the third guy sitting by the tv is for whichever of us gets to him first, got it?’

‘Check’ replied Brad, removing his weapon from the toolbox and placing it in the rear of his waistband.

The door opened, and Brad entered the room, a world weary look on his face, as if he’d much prefer to be sitting at home in his favorite armchair, a can of Bud in his hand, watching the game. He carried his toolbox in one hand, and a stepladder over his shoulder.

‘Well mister repair man, do your thing and make it quick. I’ve got business to attend to’.

‘Two minutes is all I need’ answered Brad, taking in the scene as best he could, as he unfolded the ladder.

‘What’s this all about anyhow’ asked Gorgeous, ‘I don’t see no smoke or..’

He was stopped in mid-sentence by a sharp crack as the bullet passed through the window, before entering his skull, showering the skinhead standing nearby in a fine spray of crimson. Temporarily immobilized by events, the skinhead instinctively reached for his waistband, but the delay was fatal. Brad had drawn his weapon and fired, hitting him in the shoulder. He was spun sideways by the impact, careering into the tv. Pipe man jumped up from his chair, and was immediately struck in the face by Tom, wielding a brass table lamp he’d grabbed when the first bullet had struck home. He fell to the ground, clutching his mouth. The skinhead was regaining his bearings, and although in severe pain, had managed to get his gun out and was about to take aim when another shot from Brad pierced his temple.

‘Leather jacket is coming up’ Pat informed Brad through the earpiece. TC had heard the shots, and was bounding up the stairs, two at a time. Brad stood over pipe man, still clutching his mouth and moaning softly.

‘What about this fucker’ he asked of Pat, ‘he’s seen us all. What do we do with him?’

His question was answered as another bullet passed through the window, entering the prone victims head, and the moaning abruptly stopped.

‘What the hell, Pat?’

‘Like you said, he saw everything. It had to be done, collateral damage. There wasn’t really an option. Now, deal with the one coming up the stairs’.

Brad gestured to Tom.

‘Get yourself and Joey into the bedroom, quickly’ he ordered.

Tom grabbed Joey by the arm, leading him out of sight into the other room. TC climbed the last couple of steps to the landing cautiously, his weapon held in front of him in a slightly trembling hand. He could see the steel reinforced door slightly ajar. He could hear a child crying hysterically in the adjacent apartment. He called out nervously.

‘Gorgeous, you ok? It’s me TC, you all right Gorgeous? Gorgeous? What the fuck, man, you ok?’

Brad lay crouched behind the armchair next to the tv, gun at the ready. He knew time was of the essence. Shootings in this neighborhood weren’t uncommon. He knew that even if the police had got the call, they’d be in no mad rush to walk straight into a firefight. They’d hang back a little, if possible. No point in getting your head blown off trying to save some spaced-out crack-head in the middle of a shootout. Better to wait for the SWAT boys. But still, there’s always the possibility of some hot-head rookie, trying to carve out a name for himself.

The door pushed open slowly, and TC cautiously entered, the weapon held in front of him in a hand visibly trembling now. His eyes settled on his erstwhile boss, a large red patch seeping from his head onto the couch. Just as he turned, observing the two neat holes in the window, a third hole appeared and his head exploded.

‘Tom, grab your brother, we’re outta here’ shouted Brad.

Tom took Joey by the arm, and began leading him out of the bedroom. Joey pulled away.

‘Melody, what about Melody?’ he whimpered, ‘we have to take her with us. We can’t leave her here, have to get her to a hospital, she’s hurt. We have to take her with us, Tom’.

Brad entered the room, grabbing Joey by both arms, staring into his face.