Devil's Playground Read online

  “Quick, get his gun.” Mac pulled the bandana off the man’s head and used it to gag him. Yanking the shoelaces out of his high tops, Mac tied up the victim’s hands and dragged him behind a row of boxes.

  Caitlyn held the automatic rifle in front of her like it was a poisonous snake. She was breathing heavily, but otherwise looked okay.

  “Did you have any trouble?”

  “No. He was actually walking into the building when I spotted him. I kicked a can on the ground to get his attention, then weaved between the boxes like you told me until I got here. He didn’t even take a shot.”

  “Good. Did you see any more guys out there?”

  “Nope, but like I said, he was on his way in when I saw him. I’ll check outside this time.”

  “Be careful. Try to find out how many are out there before you get the next one’s attention.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Man, want me to wrap him up in a bow while I’m at it? Some people are never satisfied.”

  “Hey, I’d be much happier doing this myself. It was your idea you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll try to skulk around a bit first this time.” She took a deep breath and slipped off again.

  Mac went back to his unconscious gang member to try to get a better look at him. He looked familiar, but Mac couldn’t put a name with the face. No matter, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name to arrest him.

  So far he hadn’t seen any of the guys he shared an apartment with in the warehouse. They must be on the streets already. How many of them would die today? All it would take would be one wrong move from a rival gang and the bullets would fly. The uneasy truce that had held off the violence between the gangs would last only as long as there was enough loot for all of them. As soon as two punks wanted the same thing, all bets were off.

  And with so many guns around, it was only a matter of time before the blood ran in the streets. What kind of sick mind did this? Nadowny had to know that the body count could number in the hundreds when this was all done. How could he give so many guns to kids not old enough to drive and expect them to stick to his rules?

  Or did he? Was he using the confusion of the looting for some other purposes? Mac wracked his brain, what was he missing?

  A rapid succession of gunshots echoed through the warehouse and Mac’s heart leapt in his throat. His pulse raced as he prepared for the next victim. Caitlyn skidded around him, panting with exertion. Mac didn’t have time to do more than glance at her to see she was okay before the first of two thugs came into range.

  Mac clocked the first one on the head and he dropped, but that gave the second one warning, and he pulled the trigger on the rifle. Bullets whizzed past Mac’s head and bounced wildly around the room.

  Ducking for cover, Mac reached for the weapon slung over his shoulder. He didn’t have time to aim, but shot back wildly. Wood splintered as the bullets slammed into the boxes surrounding him. Mac crouched down again and waited for the return fire.

  Without warning, gunfire sounded behind him. Caitlyn held the other goon’s rifle and shot at the thug in front of them. The gang member’s body jerked and convulsed as the bullets penetrated it. Blood spurted everywhere and the gun dropped from his hands seconds before his body fell next to it.

  Caitlyn’s face was deathly pale as she pointed the gun at the ceiling. Mac knew what she must be going through. Killing a man was never an easy thing, but for someone used to healing, it would be even more devastating.

  He scrambled over to her and took the gun from her unresisting hands. As she began to tremble he pulled her close to his chest.

  “I—I killed him,” she sobbed.

  “You had no choice. It was either him or us.” His heart ached for her, but they didn’t have time for her to deal with the guilt that came with taking a human life. That would have to come later—if there was a later.

  “Oh my God. I killed a man.”

  Mac slung his gun back over his arm and used both hands to grab her shoulders. Giving her a rough shake, he waited until she looked him in the eye. “Listen, I know this is hard for you, but we don’t have time for you to fall apart. Are there any more out there?”

  Caitlyn looked startled at his roughness, but it was enough to help her regroup. Wiping her face with her hand, she sniffed back her tears. “I didn’t see any more. I checked the best I could, but I think this was it. I heard these two complaining that everyone else had run off and they were the only two who wouldn’t get any of the goods. I think Nadowny and Carlos are out there somewhere too.”

  Her eyes still looked a little wild, but at least she’d stopped crying. “Nadowny is running, I’m sure of it. With you on the loose and the evidence we have, he’s probably halfway to the airport now.”

  “What do we do about them?” Caitlyn nodded to the two unconscious men on the floor.

  “Leave them here for the cops to pick up when this is all over. Come on, let’s go.”

  Mac shielded Caitlyn with his body as best he could. She averted her gaze from the bloody body on the floor. Her survival instincts would kick in soon and she’d black this out until her mind had time to process it. Hopefully reality would hold off until they were safe.

  “Where are we going?” Caitlyn asked as they slipped out of the warehouse into the darkened street.

  “We’ll head for the station, you’ll be safe there.”

  “Where will you be?”

  “I’m going after Nadowny.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance and smoke hung heavily in the air. They rushed through the streets, not even bothering to stick to the shadows. He had to get Caitlyn to safety and get Nadowny. That was all that mattered.

  A muted roar grew louder as they rounded the corner. There were no streetlights left and the pall of smoke in the air dulled the moon’s glow. What was that noise? Mac pulled Caitlyn behind him. He slowed their pace and listened for any clues as to what was happening.

  As they neared the center of the city, the sirens grew louder and the smell of pepper spray in the air stung his eyes, nose and throat. Mac turned down a side street to escape the spray.

  “Pull your shirt up over your nose and mouth,” Mac ordered.

  The roar grew in intensity, and as they exited the street, Mac saw the reason for it. Charging down the street was a hoard of screaming, crying people. Police in riot gear chased the thundering mass straight at Mac and Caitlyn.

  They had to get out of there or they’d get trampled. “The fire escape. Come on, I’ll give you a boost up.” Mac dragged her to the nearest ladder and crouched down so she could use his thigh for a step. “Get up to the roof and get as far away as you can.”

  Caitlyn stopped climbing and looked down at him. “I’m not leaving without you.”

  “Get to your brother’s!” Mac ordered as the mob rushed towards them like a tidal wave.

  He lost sight of her as the press of panicked bodies swallowed him up.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Caitlyn’s breath came out in labored pants as she ran across another roof. The stitch in her side was unrelenting, but she wouldn’t stop. She had no idea where she was, just that she had to keep going. The last she saw of Mac was his stubborn face telling her to run as the swarm of bodies overtook him.

  How could she find him again? He said he was going after Nadowny. Did that mean he was heading towards the airport? Where were her brothers? Caitlyn bent over and tried to catch her breath. She stumbled to the edge of the roof and looked over, trying to figure out where she was.

  Fires dotted the streets as far as she could see. Smoke billowed up, distorting her view. All the landmarks were hidden from her and she felt lost in the night. This was the last building in the row—that much she could tell. There was no choice about it now, she had to get down and take her chances on the streets.

  With shaking knees, Caitlyn searched for a fire escape ladder. Some of the newer buildings didn’t have them all the way up to the roof. If she couldn’t find
one, she’d have to skip back across the buildings until she found one that did. Her legs ached at the thought.

  Just as she was about to give up, she spotted the guardrails that led to the ladder. Swinging her leg over the side, she scampered down the rungs as fast as she could without slipping. If she lived through tonight, she’d never climb a ladder again.

  Her feet dangled in the air for a moment before she jumped to the ground. The force of the landing vibrated through her aching body, but she had no time for that now. She had to get help for Mac.

  Scanning the street for a sign or some clue as to her location, she headed for the corner. Bond Street. Damn, she was far from home. And all alone.

  Caitlyn jogged as best she could towards the center of town. A police car turned towards her, driving without his lights on. She raised her hand to flag him down, then hesitated. What if it was one of the mayor’s men and not someone she could trust? It could be someone she’d known all her life or it could be someone trying to kill her.

  She dodged for cover behind a tumbled pile of garbage cans. The car came slowly closer. What to do? Who could she trust? Fear and indecision tumbled around in her head, clouding her judgment. Was the car slowing down?

  Sweat dripped down her back. If only she could see something. If she could see the driver she’d know, but the night shrouded his identity.

  “Caitlyn! Are you out there?” The loud speaker on the car echoed between the buildings.

  It was Liam. Relief washed through her. She ran out from behind the garbage and almost fell into the street in front of him. Liam slammed on the breaks before he hit her and jumped out of the car, scooping her up in his arms.

  “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you since we lost contact with Mac.”

  “You had contact with Mac? How? When?” She was so confused.

  “He had a tap in his shoe, but the battery died. The GPS is still working, but that only gives a general location.”

  “Can you use it to find him again? We got separated when the mob came towards us.”

  “I don’t know. Tom has the van now, we’ll go back there and see if we can find him.”

  Caitlyn climbed into the passenger seat and locked the door. Her hands shook as she buckled herself in. Please God, let Mac be okay.

  * * *

  A drop of either sweat or blood slid slowly down Mac’s cheek as he tore open the first box he came to. After fighting his way—literally—out of the mob of terrified people in the streets, he’d found himself right back where he started. A block away from the warehouse.

  Now that Caitlyn was safely on her way to her brother’s house, he could focus again. And he wanted to know what was in all those boxes piled high. Finding an abandoned cell phone, he’d placed a call to Tom’s cell phone and got his voice mail. He’d left a message for Tom to check the train station, bus station and airport for Nadowny since he couldn’t follow him through streets thronged with people and pepper spray. Besides, he wanted to investigate the warehouse instead.

  What were Carlos and Nadowny so anxious to protect? He suspected guns and drugs, but wanted to know for sure. The top of the box finally yielded to his efforts and he tossed the crow bar down to dig through the packing materials. His hand hit another box and he yanked it out.

  Ripping the top off, Mac found a mound of bubble wrap. Bubble wrap? What the hell? He unwound the object from the yards of plastic until a tiny clay pot was revealed. Mac didn’t know squat about pottery, but this seemed old and sort of South American in design.

  Was Nadowny smuggling art out of Mexico with Carlos’ help? Mac dug through the rest of the box and found four more carefully wrapped packages. Grabbing the crow bar, he hacked away at another box until he got that top off too.

  This box didn’t have packing materials in it—it didn’t need to. Stacks of money in neat rows stared up at him from inside the box. There was easily half a million dollars in tens and twenties just sitting there. No wonder he had machine gun wielding punks guarding the doors. If anyone ever found out what was in here, the place would be ransacked in seconds.

  Disgust curled through him. Mac had lived in one of the poorest parts of the city for months and saw how people struggled for survival. And all the while Carlos and Nadowny were sitting on enough money to feed every man, woman, and child.

  Rage burned through him red and hot. Little kids turned to the gangs to make money so they could eat and ended up getting shot in drive-bys. Mac wanted to take the crate of money and throw it out on the street for the taking, but he couldn’t do it. First, it would make the rioting going on right now look tame in comparison. Secondly, he needed the evidence to nail Nadowny and Carlos to the wall for a good long time.

  He’d need backup at the warehouse. Cameras, finger printing kits and big trucks to haul the evidence away. A phone, where was that damn cell phone he’d used before? Mac scrambled through the discarded packing materials looking for the cell phone. A glint of silver caught his eye and he pounced on it.

  It was a camera phone too! That was a bonus. Mac clicked pictures as fast as he could. They wouldn’t come out great in the dim light, but it was better than nothing. When he was finished taking pictures of the money and pottery, he dialed Tom’s number again. He’d leave him a message to get evidence crews in here, then take some pictures of whatever evidence was in the office.

  As he dialed Tom’s cell, he headed towards the office and was almost run down by a moving van charging through the wide bay doors. Rolling to the side, Mac dove for cover, dropping the phone in the process.

  “So Mr. McDougal, we meet again.” Nadowny climbed out of the van with a gun pointed at Mac’s chest. “How did I know you’d be here?”

  “Just lucky, I guess.” Mac held his hands out in front of him. The crow bar was in reach, but wouldn’t do much good against an automatic rifle.

  “Luck has nothing to do with it. Nothing. Sit down in that chair while I think of what to do with you now that my plans have gone awry.”

  Mac walked slowly to the chair and sat, not making any sudden movements. He prayed the phone was transmitting or he’d be in deep shit. The mayor didn’t look all that stable. If Tom answered his phone, and Mac could hold out long enough, backup would be on its way.

  Nadowny yanked Mac’s arms behind him and tied them together with a plastic wire tie he pulled out of his pocket. Pain shot up from his wrists to his shoulders, but Mac refused to utter a sound.

  “A tough guy, huh?” Nadowny smacked him on the head as he stood behind him. “I’d love to prove how quickly I could tear that bravado down, but unfortunately I don’t have the time. I have some packing to do.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.” Come on, give me something to hang you. Go ahead, brag.

  “You won’t. You may think you’ve stopped me, but this is just a minor set back. I’ll move my operation to Mexico and start all over again. I have contacts down there, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t realize you were a multi-national organization,” Mac said, stroking his ego a bit. For reasons he’d yet to comprehend, the bad guys always felt the need to brag when they thought they had him down. Maybe they wanted an audience since so much of their best work was hidden? He didn’t know why but they always spouted off, at various levels of truthfulness, about what they’d done once they had Mac on the ropes. Mac just prayed someone would be able to get the information.

  “There’s much you don’t know. I bet you thought I was just an opportunist, taking a kickback from the gangs and pocketing the money. Didn’t you?” Nadowny grunted as he heaved a box onto a dolly and pushed it towards the van.

  “The thought crossed my mind.” Mac watched as Nadowny picked certain boxes over others and shoved them towards the van. There was no way he could get even a quarter of the boxes in there. Which ones did he think were the most important? The money or the artifacts?

  “I’m sure it did, and that’s what I wanted you and those other idiots to think. Carlos and the
rest of his ilk put their pedestrian motives on me and I let them believe it.”

  Mac said nothing, just waited for Nadowny to continue. His shoulder blades twitched as the mayor disappeared behind him for a bit. Would he kill him before or after he packed up?

  Nadowny came back into view, pushing more boxes towards the van. “Are you wondering where you were wrong yet?”

  “I don’t think I was wrong. I think you’re no better than the two bit punks you used,” Mac goaded.

  Nadowny’s face twisted in anger, but he reined it in quickly. “I won’t let you distract me with your insults. But I will tell you how wrong you are…eventually.” He laughed and disappeared again.

  Where the hell was the backup he asked for? God, with his luck Tom wouldn’t check his messages until tomorrow. Christ on crutch.

  Several more boxes were stacked near the van before Nadowny stopped for a rest. Mopping his brow with a handkerchief, he leaned against the van and stared at Mac.

  “So, have you figured out my plan yet?”

  “Maybe. You contacted the three gang leaders and united them with promises of police protection and more money—if they did things your way. They listened and compartmentalized their activities and stopped killing each other. Once they’d stopped in-fighting, they made money hand over fist, of which you got a cut.”

  “Pretty good, so far.”

  “I’m not done yet. At first I thought you orchestrated the rioting so that you could call in the troops and look like a hero in time for the next election. But now I’m thinking you had other plans in mind. Something to do with smuggling stolen artifacts perhaps?” Come on, come on, give me something here.

  “Very good. I’m sure the FBI will miss your intelligence when you’re dead. The riot served two purposes. First, it gave the gangs something to look forward to in way of a reward, therefore keeping them under control more easily. Second, it was a great cover for moving the materials I’d gathered here over the last six years.”

  “Too bad those same people are now going to loot this place and take all your stuff before you can get rid of it.”