Chapter Thirty-One

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Chapter Thirty-One

Monday

Lake City, LA

Trapped, Amir ducked and ran back into the supply room to get more weapons to make his last stand, but there was no ammo anywhere inside the closet. The masked attackers were inside the school. Amir heard the unmistakable hiss of teargas grenades going off, as glass shattered all around him.

Gas filtered through the door.

Shit!

Amir slid his cell phone inside a hidden compartment in his cargo pants and fingered the seven-inch stainless steel switchblade he kept for emergencies. His reaction to the gas was violent and immediate. He ripped the sleeves off his t-shirt and covered his mouth, already tasting metal in the back of his throat. His nostrils burned, as if he had snorted ethyl alcohol.

Moving from the direct path of the gas, Amir closed his eyes, started spitting, and blowing his nose like he’d learned in boot camp. He panted, taking in short shallow swallows of acid air. Soon doubled over, he vomited up his breakfast.

Four masked men charged into the room and in moments he was disarmed, handcuffed, and being marched through the ruins of his failed operation. The men moved with military precision. Once they made it outside, Amir surveyed the destruction through sandpaper eyes.

The air was thick with smoke, the old school completely obliterated. The yard was littered with scattered bodies. His captors stepped over the corpses of their fallen comrades and Amir’s men without batting an eye. At least Zire and Reem had taken some of the motherfuckers with them.

Two men standing before a camouflaged Hummer H-2 led Amir out of the compound and shoved him into the backseat of an unmarked black Crown Victoria.

Who the fuck are these guys? Who sent them?

The handcuffs were the only thing preventing Amir from choking one of the men in the front. If he could just get one arm free.

One of the masked men spoke through an earpiece and microphone, presumably to the others. “Timber Pack…this is Red Wolf…Jackal acquired. Proceeding to drop-zone.”

Drop-zone? Jackal? What the fuck is this, the Nature Channel?

Amir discretely struggled with the plastic, double lock cuffs, most likely made by Monadnock, national sponsor of police brutality everywhere.

The only reason I’m still alive is because they need information.

Red Wolf mumbled a few other words and signaled the troops to move out. Abrupt car movement tossed Amir backward, temporarily derailing his escape efforts.

“Sit up,” Red Wolf demanded without taking his eyes off the road.

Amir righted himself. The caravan drove by the abandoned train district. Each car followed two vehicle lengths behind the other. He wondered again about the identity of these men. They were clearly not cops, and were too precise to be Feds.

Who does that leave? SWAT? Snake?

The answer became readily apparent.

They got to Jhonnette.

She was the only person who knew Amir was in Lake City, although she didn’t know where they’d been keeping the girl or how to get to the money. That’s where Red Wolf and Anvil Head came in.

Did she give up Snake, too?

If so, Lincoln was in for a world of trouble.

How could I have been so stupid?

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