Page 65 of Fear the Reapers

“Might not have been born in Canada, but I was raised here. I speak English, Pretty Boy,” he told him.

Hunter held up his hands in surrender. “No offence meant, man.”

In Hunter’s defence, Dimitri spoke some of his words with a tiny bit of a Russian accent.

* * *

The next morning,we loaded up one of the run-down vehicles from the yard and took off to find the warehouse, which was in an industrial area on the south side of the city.

It wasn’t very hard to spot the huge building with the blacked-out windows in the deserted industrial area. At the edge of the property, the fence had elaborate signs warning people to keep out, or that there was a guard dog present. Considering the gate was wide open, I highly doubted they had a dog. Not to mention the lack of barking.

We had gone to several junk yards over the years and the first thing you noticed was the enormous dog or dogs making a racket on the other side of the fence. The last thing you wanted was to get chewed on, so I paid attention to the finer details.

The other thing that was missing was surveillance cameras. I didn’t know if it was because these guys didn’t want to draw attention, or if they weren’t intelligent enough to have someone watching the comings and goings offsite. All around this was such a ridiculous operation it surprised me they even had the cash flow to produce anything from here.

Which meant they likely had a backer.

Or someone hired morons for manufacturing.

It was the middle of rush hour, and no one was in sight. According to information we had gleaned from our informant, the current batch of product was done, so everyone would be out of the building for at least three days. Apparently, they were waiting for a shipment of supplies and couldn’t manufacture anymore product until it came in.

Whoever had been working there was missing a few brain cells. If I was running an operation as big as this there would be no way it would be completely empty during the day. It didn’t matter if the current production of meth had completed, I would still have someone there guarding the place.

The smell was the first thing I noticed. The whole entry way reeked of cat piss, and as we stepped further into the building, it blended with the sulphur of rotten eggs. I didn’t even want to imagine what it would have been like had we not wore our masks. I wasn’t about to take any chances in here.

I couldn’t believe the state of the place. They should have spent their waiting period cleaning up the mess so that they were ready for the shipment. Instead, they just fucked off to boot fuck nowhere and left their trash everywhere. Empty boxes from the pseudoephedrine cold medications were piled high in the garbage cans. Up against the back wall, they lined the left over empty barrels from the ether they had used. They had even knocked a couple of them over and just left them where they had rolled to.

The tables were full of dirty coffee filters and improvised glassware. They left discarded funnels and turkey basters alongside the filters. If I wouldn’t have known what I was walking into, it would have made me think of a wacky kitchen. One of those molecular gastronomy fusion type places. The ones with the tiny portions and the weird ass foam.

Just like our informant had said, there were lights hanging low from the ceiling. They came down on long thick wires and stopped three feet above the table. We had just enough bulbs to screw into them.

“One of you go turn off the light,” I told them.

Dimitri ran over to the light switch and shut it off. The blacked-out windows kept out most of the sunlight, but it wasn’t completely dark. We had brought flashlights to use in the event of a total blackout.

I glanced down at my watch.

“We don’t have much time,” I told them. “Let’s get to it.”

“Yes, sir,” Hunter responded.

“You better believe it.”

We rushed around the building, replacing as many bulbs as we could. There was an office up a large flight of stairs that had several normal light sockets for me to mess with.

We packed up our shit and were out of there within twenty minutes.

The plan went off without a hitch.

When we were back at the clubhouse, we all had drunk a toast to the teens who had been affected by the drugs coming out of the warehouse. It might have been a small step, but maybe the next group would think twice about working in our area. It didn’t matter if they knew who we were; I was sure they would look over their shoulders in paranoia.

Too bad I couldn’t have stayed to watch them all burn.

ChapterThirty-Two

DIMITRI

Kisahad beenthrough way too much in the past couple of months. The last thing she needed was to doubt our feelings.

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