Crimson

With my gun in hand, and my finger firmly off the trigger. I moved to a lower slant, careful to keep my motion fluid and slow. I needed every advantage Rene giving me a count down, just as we had practiced. “5, 4, 3, 2”

“Cris stop!” Warren hissed over twigs snapping and grass ruffling around on his end of the comm link, “There are two crafts coming in close. I’ll be spotted if I stay put. I’ll need about five minutes to move to the backup position.”

Of all the times to make a call like that. I eased myself backwards, but it wasn’t far enough to relieve the pain on my hips and lower back. Nor could I do much more without possibly drawing attention to myself.

“We should have been faster.” I muttered.

A second later, a thick beam of light cut through the night, getting brighter and brighter before flickering on and off followed a series of pop, cracks and engine sputters. A few minutes later, a second motorbike appeared around the bend, accelerating into the clearing. A dark cloud trailed closely behind the rider filling my nostrils and the surrounding areas with heavy exhaust fumes and heated automotive lubricants. The first thief covered his nose as puffs of exhaust drifted towards his face, the rider killed the engine, leaving his headlight on as the first had done. Only, to my surprise, stumble and yelp as he collapsed to the ground nearly taking his bike with him in the process.

“Took you long enough, you idiot” the first thief snapped rather annoyed, “You’re lucky scavengers didn’t jump you on the road.”

“I had to make do with what I had,” the second man stammered, he wanted to sound confident, but his nerves were getting the best of him. “There aren’t many people willing to sell good bikes anymore. I was lucky to even find this one, and I wasn’t about to come up here on foot with scavengers around.”

The first thief lifted his hands into the air and shook his head violently, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You bought that thing!”

It was apparently, as he adjusted his stance and flexed his hands. Even giving his knuckles a rub he really wanted to punch this guy.

“Do you realize,” he hissed, “Authorities can track sales and these days no one their right mind buys junk vehicles, you should have stolen it.”

I scoffed, like that would have done him any good.

“What’s going on down there Cris” Warren asked, “I can almost smell the exhaust.”

Carefully I brought a hand to my mouth, “Lead chewing out lackey, buyer is running late.”

Warren’s police voice took command, “A second thief. We didn’t account for that. What’s would say is our threat assessment?”

“Lead, Bark is worse than bite. Lackey, scared cat.”

Both looked like the typical thug, if that was even a term. It fit the scene, judging from their tattoos, tank tops and ragged looking pants. Both had a few inches on me, but Warren would tower over both of them. The hard part was it didn’t look like they had weapons, but their loose clothing was a good hiding place, so I’d have to tread carefully.

“I’d wager lead would turn new guy into a human shield if he needed too.”

The thought sparked the idea, but I’d have to wait for the right moment if I wanted new guy to provide a distraction for me to make my move.

“Rene was quick to jump in, “hey guys, we’re not out to kill anyone. Right?”

“Of course,” Warren added, “we’re casing our situation. If new guy potentially serves as a human shield, it means lead doesn’t view him much as an asset. Which means he could provide a distraction if we scare him good enough.”

“Not like the fort Italia Job,” Rene moaned, “that went wrong nine miles west of insane.”

“Fort Italia job,” I muttered, remembering the dismal results of that venture.

“Possibly so,” Warren finished, “Just consider this the fork in the road.”

The men continued exchanging insults and excuses. Listening intently, I forced myself to stay quiet and wait for a chance to reply. I needed to be quick if an opportunity presented itself and just in case there were hackers trying to break communication channels.

“Any sign of external backup?” I asked, risking a change in position. Their interaction continued, a helpful distraction in any case.

“Nothing,” Warren replied, “Although I think scavengers are on the move. New guy did attract their attention. I’d say its only a matter of time.”

“Any sign of the prize?” Rene added, “Could you try and lift it?”

“No, and there isn’t a lot of cover, so I’ll have to wait for the hand off.” I said as Lead punched New guy in the stomach.

“Maybe we should have done the second shopper con,” Warren said. “I don’t like how the buyers making them wait. It may mean they’re bringing some muscle with them. Since it is a priceless relic.”

“I’m too young to pull off experienced and wealthy,” I replied quickly, keeping my eyes of the thieves, “and you know how much I hate basically everything in Rene’s closet.”

“You hate it, even though you’ve got the-,” Rene chimed in, “hey guys watch your six, you’ve got incoming.”

“I see them. It’s the same as before. They must have circled the area for some reconnaissance.” Warren said, “they’re coming in at an angle to land. Cris, stay low, its show time.”

“Cris, Warren do you have a plan?” Rene asked.

“Part of one,” I replied quickly, “I may be able to use Mr. human shield to my advantage. He seriously looks like he is going to wet himself.”

“He doesn’t appear particularly confident,” said Warren, his voice carried faintly, overpowered by the breeze and the rustling of weeds, “Are you going to cause a distraction?”

“Warren, are you on the move again?” I asked as engines powered down shooting up puffs of dust into the air.

“I’ve moved a bit higher,” he said, between hurried breathes, “Because there are two other sky crafts in the vicinity. I’ll be out of range for the next few minutes. But I’ll have a clearer shot up here.”

“Roger that,” I said inaudibly grumbling as a rock dug into my knee. Moving to a sitting position, which wasn’t much better I leaned deeper into the grass. I had stretched earlier but the prolonged positions were making every inch of my body screamed in defiance. Fighting through the pain, twigs, leaves and grass rained over my head as one of the two crafts Warren had mention zoomed overhead, wide spotlights with military precision in every direction. As it circled about, several gusts of warm air drifted in my direction. I risked a brief twist as the craft’s body rocked back and forth; the forth hover jet shooting sparks and trailing a stream of smoke. A minute later, a second craft rocketed through the air, unlike the first, the one’s engines hummed like a cat’s purr and vanished into the night impossible to pick out in the darkness.

“That’s odd,” Rene said. “Are they having engine trouble?”

“Not likely,” I shot back, “it looked like engine trouble, but I doubt it was a typical maintenance issue.”

“So you think an attack?” Warren added.

“Maybe, and like you said. It’s a priceless relic.”

“Agreed,” Rene said, “whatever the case this means the buyers have resources and a lot of money. Do you have a plan for any extra security?”

Her question warranted a pause. Over the three years we’d been together we toed the line. We needed this job, but could we actually win a challenge with so many unknowns. We’d planned and tried to cover our bases, yet sometimes these things happened. Rene tracked our digital footprint; Warren killed the more aggressive opponents while I acted fast, the blur to sneak in and retrieved our prize.

Was it enough? It was dark, cold and none of us were eager to go home empty handed. Returning my attention towards the clearing. Our targets watched in earnest while the craft idled, and the passengers remained inside.

“What are you waiting for.” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “You could at least have the decency…”

His voice cracked and sputtered as four flood lights burst to life with sharp intensity that brought tears to my eyes. Illuminating the whole area jerking to one side, I barely managed to keep my cool and avoid harsh movements that might have drawn attention in my direction. Pressing my fingers into the dirt, my heart pounded, and sweat channeled down my forehead. I didn’t dare move, my eyes watched and dust beat against my face in frequent waves, bringing on the real possibility of sneezing.

Bright lights, things are certainly ramping up the stakes, I thought. I only knew one reason to pull a move like that. Typically, sellers could choose the meeting place, while the buyer could choose the meeting time and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume these two wouldn’t consider pulling a fast one for a better deal. So, as a precaution the buyers blinded the area to flush out people like me into the open. One of the many ways the rich control every situation they find themselves in.

Once the lights dimmed to more bearable levels, I shifted my position and pulled the grass back in order to see better, but at the same time I made sure to leave taller stock ups to cover my head. Off in the distance, through the gap near the main road stood three people in a triangle position. To my left stood a tall squared shouldered ogre of a man, his well-toned physique desperately attempting to escape in tightly tailored suit, and turtle necked sweater. With his hands folded in front of his groin a throwback to apparent military service, undoubtedly career military given the ease in which he seemed to have with the pose. Opposite the incredible mountain of a trainer, stood a woman perhaps a decade my senior. Her curves were hidden behind a long brown coat, decorated with a tiger striped collar and long black hair.

The triangle’s point proved the most interesting of characters; the other two seemed stereotypical for a mob’s consort. The presented leader appeared the oldest out of the three, with striking salt and pepper hair and Asian features. With the smallest movements, a small twitch of his head and a subtle nod, he looked to his left and right. “We are not pleased with your childish behavior,” the big man declared firmly. “You should learn patience if you wish to conduct further business with us.”

“Fine whatever you want, sorry” the lead thief replied quickly, I bit my lip as mockery underlining his tone, “We have the relic. Where’s the cash?”

The muscular man looked to his companions and almost at once the Asian man gave a nod then motioned to the woman who withdrew a small metal case from an inside pocket of her coat.

“Finally, get the case from my bike” The main thief ordered to his lackie as he extended his hands for the money case, which they didn’t give to him. Rather they held it out and watched as the lackie shuffled towards the bike and withdrew a thin gold box from the motorcycle bag. Twisting it around in his hands, every muscle in my body jerked at the realization.

“Oh come on,” I mouth as I turn away, “Warren they put the dragon in a vault box.”

“You sure?” Warren replied almost at once.

“Yes,” I fingered the safety latch keeping my gun in place. I needed to move, and I needed to move fast.

“Get that box now!”

“On it,” I said, ignoring the alloy descriptions, and the stupid TV commercials playing on repeat in my head, the dumb kind that gets stuck in your head. Taking aim I gaged the distance between me and the tree, “For the wealthy’s peace of mind, keep your valuables where they are easy to find.”

They were smart to use one, I thought, which would have made stealing beforehand worthless without the code to get into it.

My eyes followed New guy as he typed in the code. The latch audibly clicked and I watched as he pulled the lid opened like a book, then he twisted it around for the buyers to view. I zeroed in on the tree, but then turned towards the nicer bike, aimed at the motor and fired.

“Cinder,” I mouthed with practiced emphasis in the wrong places.

Time for a distraction, and action.