Page 7 of Steel Trap
Chapter Three
Even the enormous plate of ginger cookies in the middle of the table couldn’t tempt Hatchet’s taste buds. He paced the common room while Teddy, Crow and Shelton sat watching him. It was midday and after a late night, or rather early morning, at The Scourge, The Wyverns had risen late. Bull was sleeping off his night on watch. Artie was somewhere out on the perimeter, probablystill complaining about the ‘fucking heat, dust and flies’. Hatchet’s frustration surfaced and he kicked at the back of a chair, sending it crashing to the floor. “Fuck it all to hell, what does he think he’s doing?”
“Sit down, before you destroy more of the furniture,” Crow said. “You’re scaring Shelton.”
Shelton peered over the screen of his laptop. ‘I’m not scared,’ he mouthed.
Hatchet blinked.“Sorry. Sorry, Shelton. I feel like my ass is sat in the middle of a nest of fire ants.” He took a seat at the table. “Go through it again, ‘cos hell if I can make an ounce of sense out of this idiotic plan.”
Shelton swiveled his laptop around so that they could see the screen. It displayed a street map of Phoenix. “It’s simple. Smith has set up the meet with a supplier called Camacho where Smithis acting as a potential buyer, here.” He pointed at the map. “It’s a junkyard and not in a great part of the city. From what I can see on the satellite images, it’s surrounded by a nine-foot fence topped with razor wire. There’s only one way in and out—double gates at the front. There’s a trailer on site—presumably the site office—no other buildings, but the place is a maze. There’s a crusher,stacks of wrecked vehicles, a couple of tow trucks…the usual stuff you’d expect to find. I checked out underground maps. There’s no voids and just one access to the sewers outside the gates.”
“Sounds like a good place to get dead,” Hatchet muttered.
“We don’t know if Smith chose this location or it was given to him by Camacho. I’d guess the latter.”
“And he wants me to shoot him, then usethat as a way of getting in with the drug baron?”
“Yes. A biker gang cutting in on a deal is more likely to be accepted at face value.” Shelton clicked to another screen. “Now, this is the location of the factory. As you can see, it’s in a totally different part of the city.”
“Upscale, too,” Teddy said.
“Less likely to be found by our oh-so-unprejudiced upholders of the law,” Crow said. “AndI’m not including your sheriff in that sweeping generalization,” he added with a glance at Teddy.
Teddy grinned. “Adrian is unique.”
Shaking his head, Shelton jabbed at the computer screen. “Could we focus, people? This building is a twenty-four-hour coffee bar-cum-arts venue. Nice and innocuous and great cover for people coming and going at all hours. Plans show a double story basement parkinggarage. I’d guess the factory is in the lower level. Access is at the rear of the property. There are two elevators inside, one for freight, one for customers. Oh, and the building has its own generator.”
“Odds are a lot of people in that building will have no clue what’s going on right under their feet,” Crow said.
“Makes the situation even more dangerous,” Hatchet said. “Smith wants the placedestroyed. How are we gonna manage that when it’s full of fucking civilians?”
“Good question.” Shelton drummed his fingers on the table. “But you may be interested to know there’s a propane storage facility in the lot directly behind the building.”
“Clever boy,” Crow said, leaning across to Shelton for a kiss. “All we have to do is clear the place out, then…boom.”
Hatchet grunted. “WhateverSmith says, this is gonna have to be a team effort. If, and it’s a big if, I can get on the inside, I can maybe create a distraction. I can’t be setting explosive charges at the same time.”
“We’ll also need to get the rest of the building cleared, not just the basement. I hate to say this, but I think we need to get Rogue back here.” Teddy frowned. “I think we should get Adrian to help, too.”
Hatchet shifted in his seat. “This has the potential to be an epic fuck-up. I need to talk to Smith. You put a tracker on his ass when he left here, Shelton?”
“Sure did. I don’t think he’s laundered the jeans I lent him yet, cos it’s still working.” He scribbled on a post-it then thrust it into Hatchet’s hand. “There’s a lot more to Mr. Smith than meets the eye if this address is an indicator.This building has some serious security, Hatch. They’re not going to let you just waltz in there.”
“He’ll see me.” Hatchet shoved his chair back. “Give me a few hours. See what kind of a workable plan you can come up with. Teddy, get Adrian out here. Crow, you get to call Rogue.”
“Aw, fuck.” Crow pushed his fingers through his long, dark hair.
Shelton giggled. “Don’t worry, I’ll kiss it better.”
Hatchet left them to their banter. He grabbed his well-patched leather jacket then headed outside. It was a warm day. Maybe the ride into Phoenix would help clear his head.
* * * *
Shelton hadn’t been kidding about the security level at Smith’s building. On the corner of a block, it was surrounded by high walls, their tops embedded with shards of glass. A set of double gates remained closed.Hatchet pulled up next to the entry phone and glanced up at the camera positioned above it. He pressed the buzzer and a disembodied voice responded.
“Yes?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Smith.” Hatchet wondered who he might have to shoot to get inside.
