Page 74 of Dirty Daria
“Bomb.”
“What about the women?”
“Who knows what’s already happened to them, some might prefer death right about now.”
“Okay, typically with the auctions, they bring a girl up on a stage, or in front of the guys, and they are formed in an audience, right?”
She nods.
“So, how particular can we be with a blast point and directional shrapnel?”
“With a grenade, not at all. With a specialized explosive I could plant ahead of time, pretty damn accurate.”
“Get Jen and Roxie over here. I’m going back up in my tree to keep an eye on things.” Between the binoculars and the scope on my rifle, I can see a limited amount of space in the warehouse well.
Alyssa taps away on her phone, looking up at me after a moment. “The name Nick Moony mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“He’s dead too. Hung himself.” She uses her fingers as air quotes at the word hung, so it must have been speculative. “He’s tight with Tremblay.”
“Tight, how?”
“Like Moony works with Tremblay to get the girls. He’s usually the one at the drop house. And he’s Tremblay’s money guy.”
“Someone is cleaning house.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She types on her phone some more. “The girls will be there soon. You formulating a plan?”
“Yep,” I lie. Because I’m not. I can’t think straight today. And if I can’t think straight, I can’t formulate a plan. So, the girls are going to have to be okay with winging it. This is not my finest hour. But I have all these things whirling around in my head. Thoughts about Mack and what will happen between us. Thoughts about Ronan Sinclair and whether or not I think he’s really coming to town. Thoughts on David and how involved he was with my sister’s disappearance. All those things combined doesn’t leave a lot of space or time for anything else.
I must spend a while thinking, because the next thing I know, another car pulls up and Roxie and Jen get out.
“What’s the plan, boss?” Roxie asks me.
I stall answering while I hand out ear buds and we all turn away from one another to make sure they work.
“Divide and conquer,” I say as I slip my jacket on, covering the shoulder holsters, and making sure I have more ammo in a waist pack. “I figure we each take a side of the building, two go high, two stay low, we should be able to take out at least six men before they realize what’s going on. They’ll start shooting at each other first, at which point we should be able to get another six. I know it’s not a pretty plan, but this came unexpected. So, be safe, aim thoughtfully.”
We head for the warehouse, moving as one through the brush. The sun is just setting, making it difficult to see around us well. I’m surprised they are holding this so early in the day. But, if I think on it too long, everything about this feels weird. Not that crime can only happen in the middle of the night. It’s just that it seems or feels more nefarious that way. Having this happen during the day makes it almost easier to digest, which itself in also an unsettling thought.
We reach the perimeter without being seen. Oddly, there aren’t any guards outside.
This is way too weird.
Like they aren’t afraid of anything right now. How can that be? Unless everything they could or would be afraid of is inside. Just to bolster that thought, I notice there are a lot more cars in the lot than there were before.
“Stay vigilant,” I whisper. “This is odd. There are no guards.”
Roxie and I go high, using the stairwells that lead to walkways on either side of the building. Alyssa and Jen stay low and stick to windows.
“Wait for my signal.” I look through the shattered glass. There are more men in the audience than I would have expected. I’m not sure how we missed them arriving, or maybe that was just me. I recognize a few men there: some Russian, some American. A couple of politicians, one high ranking police officer. They make me sick, promising to protect and serve, all the while kidnapping and raping. I have no idea who most of the other men are until I see one that I know well.
My stomach drops, bile rises in my throat.
It’s impossible.
There’s no way.
