"I didn't know the Syndicate of the Darkening Sun owned territory in the Gas Lamp District," interrupted Long Barrel Darrel.
"You didn't know because you didn't need
to know," replied Jacquie.
"Oh yeah I forgot that all shadow
organizations have that code."
"Anyway," said Jacquie with a glimmer of
annoyance, "a drug deal is going on at two p.m. today in an abandoned food
preservatives warehouse."
"Why does the Syndicate own..."
"It's a graveyard, LBD. There are
probably about fifty dead bodies in shallow graves surrounding that warehouse.
It's in a part of town that city planners long forgot about, and so should
you."
"If this goes bad..."
"Then there are going to be a couple of
more bodies to add to the tall grass field."
Jacquie and LBD arrived at the warehouse
ten minutes before the scheduled deal. Quick surveillance of the area showed
only one car entrance and anyone trying to come in on foot would be spotted in
a second because the warehouse was surrounded by hills. Even wearing camouflage
would be risky because of the many types of colors that decorated the land:
live and dead grass, piles of sand, pebble, rock, tires, small and large scrap
metal of varying degrees of rust.
The Gun Bearers drive away from the
warehouse and wait fifteen minutes.
When they return, Jacquie and LBD find
three vehicles parked casually around the front of the warehouse. There is a
large truck, a black Cadillac, and a Jaguar that looks familiar to Jacquie. As
they pull up they are of course greeted with stern faces and hands resting on
gun handles.
The Gun Bearers stepped out of the black
Lincoln slowly. LBD counts eight people. Jacquie counts nine. There is still a
man inside the Jaguar.
One of the only men not resting his hand
on a gun spoke up and asked, "who the fuck are you?"
"We are Gun Bearers," announced Jacquie.
"You are trespassing on territory that belongs to the Syndicate of the
Darkening Sun. We don't care about your drugs or your money. All we ask is that
you refrain from doing business on our property."
The man who spoke up looked back at the
man in the Jaguar.
Jacquie clinched his teeth.
"Tell your man in the Jaguar to step out
of his vehicle."
The man who spoke up didn't move or
speak. The driver's side door popped open on the Jaguar. The man inside stepped
out slowly.
"Come to visit me at work Jacquie?" said
Joe LeStrauss. "I knew you were a Gun Bearer when I met you at your son's bus
stop. The way you held yourself, the way your eyes threatened me, much like
they're doing now. We beg your pardon for meeting on Syndicate ground. We will
leave. No harm, no foul. I just trust you won't tell your ex-wife or your son.
We've all just gotten comfortable with each other and I wouldn't want something
like this to ruin it." Joe LeStrauss finished his sentence with the biggest
greatest shit eating grin that any shit eater had ever made since the fad of
shit eating became popular.
Jacquie took a short breath and then
said, "This place is a crow's nest," which did not mean anything to the nine
men in front of him but to LBD it was the code command to open fire and kill
them all.
Long Barrel Darrel's extended 15 inch
.44 Magnum appeared like one of Zeus' lightning bolts. It was as fast. It was
as loud. It was as deadly.
Jacquie's Beretta 93r "Veronica"
unloaded her own bullets into two men's skulls.
Jacquie walked up to Joe LeStrauss who
was on his knees in piss soaked pants.
"You probably would have walked out of
here if you hadn't mentioned my ex-wife and our son."
"I'm sorry," said Joe.
"I'm not," replied Jacquie.
LBD's phone vibrated it read: TXT MSG:
MR. GILLINGHAM: Tell Jacquie he's welcome.
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