They walked, taking smaller bites of the delicious apples.
“I miss Papa… Momma, too.”
“Me, too. C’mon, let’s pick up the pace, Gabby. We need to get up into the back alley behind Kroger’s.”
“’Kay.”
SECTION 9: Rat Pack on the Run
CHAPTER 9.1-The Perimeter
“Mickey, you copy?”
“Copy. Go.”
“We got movement, back alley. Over.”
“What kind? Over.”
“Not sure. Wait, I see two kids. Young. One hundred yards out. Over.”
“Threat?”
“Nah, not likely. Over.”
“Okay. Keep an eye on them. Over.”
“Roger that.”
Mickey turned and approached Colonel MacMillen and the newly established team. Captain Daubney, Major McLeod, and Captains BB and Marty were speaking in the KFC dining area. Detailed plans were being arranged for the much-anticipated rendezvous with Colonel Starkes set for tomorrow at 18:00. Spirits were high and the men of his team were spending a great deal of time getting to know the colonel’s team. Sniffing the air, he appreciated the smell of a few cigars. The smell of fresh meat cooking made his mouth water; he realized he’d not eaten since early morning.
“What we got?” asked Captain Daubney, hearing Mickey on the radio.
“Nothing. A few kids walking near an alley.”
“How old?” asked Connor.
“I dunno. Young.”
“Rare to see kids. How young?”
Mickey was momentarily embarrassed that he did not have the information readily available and that he’d not thought to seek further clarification.
“Hold on, sir.” Mickey moved slightly away, radioing his men. “Stretch, do you know young those kids are? Over.”
“I dunno, Top. The boy’s maybe thirteen or fourteen. Girl’s maybe ten. Over.”
“Continue assessment. Over.”
“Understood, hold.”
“Holding for assessment. Roger.”
“They’re little, but sturdy. I’d say they’re a pretty good-looking pair, probably brother and sister by the looks of ’em. Maybe Hispanic of some type. They look healthy. Over.”
“Roger.” Mickey returned to the team, only to be interrupted, by Stretch’s voice on the radio.
“Hold on a sec, Top… over.”
“Copy. Go.”
“The boy keeps looking back behind him like they’re being chased or something. He’s reached behind his back to pull out something. Whoa, large handgun. I think he senses something’s wrong behind him. Over.”
“How? How far from you? Over.”
“We’re hidden well. Maybe forty yards ahead of ’im, tucked nice in the yard of a gray house. Snipers up top. No way he knows we’re here. Over.”
“What’s he doing now, over?”
“Umm, he’s saying somethin’ to the little girl, pointing behind him and then right in our direction. Over.”
“Okay. Keep an eye on ’em. Send a man behind them after they pass to see what’s up. Over.”
“Roger that. I’ll go out there myself once they pass. Out.”
CHAPTER 9.2-Handing Over a Gun
“Phoenix, you okay?” asked Luke. His team converged on the hobbling form of Phoenix Justice as he walked toward their position on Brownsville Road. Luke came to stand before him.
“Luke, the best I can say is… I’ll live… to find that little Renaldo motherfucker!” The raw fury emanating from Phoenix made the men around Luke instinctively check Phoenix’s hands for a weapon. They’d witnessed this level of fury before and, it never ended well for someone nearby. On the other hand, the cold charisma that still simmered from Phoenix was captivating. Luke smiled at the intensity. Seeing Phoenix stumble, he grabbed ahold of his left shoulder, assisting him in his frenzied walk back toward Arlington Road and his remaining army.
“What happened?” asked Luke.
“Larry neglect to fill you in?” Phoenix growled to hide his embarrassment.
“No,” said Luke, “but I want to hear it from you, so I can fuckin’ believe it.”
Phoenix stopped. He stared at Luke to assess his comment. Gratefully, he took the water canteen offered and drank deeply, trying his best not to scream in raw rage at his circumstances. “I need a gun. Now.”
Luke’s team glanced around at each other and then into the fury of Phoenix. Calmly, Luke handed him the Smith and Wesson M&P 9mm strapped in his thigh holster. Phoenix took the weapon and slipped out the magazine to confirm ammunition, before slamming it home. He checked the top of the gun, noting that the special indicator confirmed a nine-millimeter load was live in the chamber.
“I appreciate that quick gesture, Luke in giving up your firearm. I won’t forget it. I know this M&P’s your pride and joy.”
“No problem, sir.” Luke tracked the M&P, as the gun was slipped into Phoenix’s pants. Phoenix noticed.
“Don’t worry. I see you staring. I’ll return it when I get my Judge back.”
“You lost it?”
Phoenix trembled at the question, so much so, that he nearly fainted in fury. Luke held onto Phoenix’s left side, easing him to sit on the ground.
“No! I didn’t fuckin’ lose it—that punk-ass kid fucked my uncle over, but good—took his Berretta and bullied his way to escaping.”
“Heard that—hard to believe.”
Reenergized, Phoenix stood once again, ignoring the flash of incredible pain. He regarded the men around him. “Oh yeah, that little fuck’s something special. I’m gonna seriously enjoy teaching him a lesson.”
“And his name’s Renaldo?”
Phoenix stared at Luke. “Yeah, his name’s Renaldo… c’mon, we got shit to do. Let’s go.” Phoenix walked toward the trucks and quads barreling down Brownsville Road with the army of men behind them. He tried his best not to limp, though the pain was intense.
CHAPTER 9.3-A Judgment Call
“Someone’s run through here, may be here now…”
“Nully?” Gabriella tossed her apple core away and tried to see what her brother saw.
Absently, Renaldo handed her the remainder of his half-eaten apple, slipping the Taurus from the small of his back. He sniffed the air. “Smell it, Gabby? Meat cooking. And smoke. From cigarettes.”
“I don’t… oh, yeah.”
“Those houses there, see? The front weeds and grass are crushed. Not a lot, but not long ago.”
“Where?”
“That gray house next to the green one. With the black gate. See those little paths in the weeds to the gate. Hey, look! There’s a dust swipe across that car window. Huh. Someone looked inside. Fresh. Clean. New.”
“Today, Nully?”
“Probably. Probably—”
“Oh.”
Renaldo dropped into a crouch and Gabriella did the same. He critiqued the area ahead of him as trained, thinking. “Any binoculars in that bag?” He knew none were there, frustrated that the well-fortified backpack he’d hidden before being caught by those men was now so far away.
“No, Nully. I have some matches… I can—”
“Did I ask for matches?”
“No, Nully.”
“Okay. Keep an eye out behind us while I check on them houses.”
“’Kay.”
Renaldo studied the gray house in particular, since it had the best view of the alley and beyond and had the advantage of significant weeds stuffed into an overgrown yard. The top dormer windows were open to the street, easily giving height and an unobstructed view further down the alley. His best recall told him those windows were closed the last time he and Gabriella had made their way to the Kroger’s hideout, though that was well over a month ago. But, the gray house would be a house his father would pick for an ambush. It was certainly similar to others they’d used on occasions in the past.