Chapitre 34: Chapter 33: Gun Grab And Stakeout
Betty rolled into the parking lot, the brakes releasing a low whine as the car lurched to a stop. Dylan was already there, the idiot was completely out in the open as he leaned against the hood of his car, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. My eyes flickered over to the radio, the green analog display showing the time as 3:33. It was now or never.
Scanning the parking lot one last time I swallowed the lump in my throat as I reached for the glove compartment. Like a bad omen the metal hinges squealed as the little door opened, a flickering light illuminating Dad's revolver. I had put it inside Betty when I first got the chance to ride her, the gun giving me an odd sense of comfort. Taking a deep breath I exhaled a cloud of smoke before reaching for the pistol. I tucked the revolver behind my back in between the gap in my jeans and used my shirt to cover the black polymer grip still sticking outside of my pants. Finally, I was ready, my hand reaching for the car door.
"Whattup big E!" I cringed as I stepped out of the car, the loudmouth seemed to be trying to wake up Mr. and Misses Rivera.
Rivera's Arcade was a large two-story brick building, the thing had been a company office for one of the local mines that was abandoned. Beside the parking lot was a seemingly endless trail of old railroad ties continuing along a line that no longer had its metal rails. As kids we used to run up the raised embankment to play King of the hill. The memory of me carrying Clara Princess style when she fell and sprained her ankle replayed in my mind as I stepped toward Dylan.
"Nothing's really changed since the last time you asked me." I had already snuffed my cigarette, my hand picking up the butt off the ground after I stomped on it. There's no way in hell I'm going to push my luck with Liv by littering in her parking lot. She'd cuss me out and beat me with whatever was in her hands or closest to her.
"Good, good, so are you ready to get this shit in your car?" Dylan spoke as a white cloud of vapor poured from his nose. The green little smog box in his hand seemed to be working overtime as he took another hit on it.
"Yeah, the quicker the better." I nodded, the both of us walking toward the back of his car.
Prying open the hatchback Dylan began stacking cases in my hands. The first two were larger and acted as a base for the three smaller ones that were the exact same size as the case containing the Glock. Hell, I'm pretty sure the top one contained the pistol he showed me. The lanky bastard had only grabbed the plate carriers and the last of the three bigger cases as he began striding over to my car.
"What about ammo?" I asked as Dylan opened the passenger door of Betty. The man threw the plate carriers in the floorboard, a dull thump filling the air as the plates slammed into the carpeted surface. After that he leaned the larger rifle case up against the car seat, his back straightening from his crouched position as he turned to look at me.
"Each carrier has three mags for the AR's and in the case for every gun, there are two mags for them as well. 30 pistol rounds and 150 rifle rounds apiece should be enough right?" I nodded. That was 540 rounds of ammo altogether which would be plenty for our role.
"Yeah, but I'll probably end up needing some cheap stuff to practice on. It's been a year or two since me and the boys had a target shoot."
"Heh, I knew you'd say that bro." He jogged back to his car, more specifically the passenger side door. Opening it up he leaned forward before grunting, with a jerk he pulled two large green cases of ammo out of the floorboard of the car. The military surplus marks from the cans told me he'd probably hit up the store in Imlay.
"How many rounds is that?"
"Shit bro, I think the dude said like 800 rounds of 5.56." He shook the green case in his left hand and then motioned toward the can in his right hand. "And this is a 1,000 rounds of 9 mil."
"That's over $600 dollars in ammo!"
"Nah, buddy owed me some money anyway so we cut a deal. I forgave his debt and he gave me the ammo and plate carriers for free, win-win right?" I quirked an eyebrow at him. The man really had his fingers in almost every pie, didn't he?
***
(??? POV):
"Hehe, see I told ya!" Dean smacked my shoulder as I lowered my binoculars, the smug smirk on his face causing his mustache to twitch.
We had been following Dylan Lee's movements ever since he returned from Lexington. The young man had been on our radar for at least a year, mainly through information provided by special agent Ward. Apparently, the Kentucky Marijuana Strike Force was being pressured by the Governor to make a huge bust. If they could pull it off it would mean more money from the federal government would be invested in law enforcement agencies throughout the Commonwealth as a whole.
"…" Despite my partner's enthusiasm, I was more subdued. My eyes once again pressed up against the rubber rings surrounding the binocular lenses to take in the sight of Ethan Langston.
For all his faults, and there was a list of them, Ethan was a good friend for William. He was always a shy boy, his larger frame and awkward demeanor always made him a target for bullies. No matter how hard I and his mother tried he would never stand up for himself, the boy was petrified of the thought of hurting someone. So imagine our shock when one day we got a call from the principal saying that our son was involved in a fight at school.
I had never felt prouder in my life than in that moment when I walked into the office to see my son nursing an ice pack to his eye. The other kid looked far worse, his mother sobbing in the seat next to him. Instead of the seat next to William being available for me to sit beside him it was occupied by another boy.
Ethan sat beside my son, his chubby hand patting him on the back. It looked like William felt guilty about the whole thing, the Langston boy consoling him. The door had creaked open and he had turned back to look at me, his coal-brown eyes staring into my soul. That day I had defended both of them because even though I didn't condone the violence they inflicted on their classmate, I knew that whatever that boy had done was enough for my mild-mannered son to snap.
"…please, don't make me do this," I muttered under my breath, my eyes watching as Ethan's car pulled out of the parking lot.
"Should we bag him?" Dean asked, his finger ready to flip the switch on the lights. We were currently in my car as our department had no unmarked vehicle to call its own.
"No, Dylan Lee is our primary target." I shook my head. My fellow officer held a general disdain for the Langston family, our standoff with David Cain Langston forever tainting his view of them. While I could agree with the rightfully deserved hatred their father received from the man, his overzealous pursuit of Ethan and to a lesser extent Clara was unprofessional and unbecoming of a police officer.
"Bill, he's right there carrying away a shit ton of guns! This is the perfect opportunity to take him off the street once and for all!" Dean hissed, his eyes trailing the Oldsmobile 442 as it sped down the road.
"And how are you going to explain to special agent Ward why instead of laying low like he wants us to we decided to bust a high school boy and tip off our actual target?" I glared back at him, the pudgy man shying away from me as I turned back to look at Dylan getting in his car.
"…special agent Ward doesn't know how dangerous that boy is—like a baby shark." Dean's words caused me to give him a side-eyed glare.
"You can't really believe that can you?" I looked at him like he was crazy. Ethan may be a rough sort but I had no doubt that given his care for his sister and her friend, he would remain on the up and up to avoid being separated from them. In fact, I told Dean just as much, the pudgy man nodding along before he raised one finger.
"Finances'll be his undoing, he's poor, hell everyone in this damn county is poor but for him it hangs over his head like a sword. All it would take for him to break, to turn to what his father taught him would be for one unexpected expense." At that Dean bared his teeth in an ugly sneer, my eyes narrowing as I realized what he was getting at.
"You gave him that ticket to prove your little theory didn't you?"
"No, I threw chum out into the water and the little shark is proving what I've said about him all along. The boy is an animal plain and simple. He's an exact copy of his dad, and I'll be damned if I let him terrorize this community like David did!" He growled as he spoke, his fists clenching as he glared out at the fading tail lights of Ethan's car.
I could only sigh, Dean would never stop pursuing this until he had Ethan dead to rights. My only hope was that the boy himself would stay out of trouble to not end up falling like his Dad. Though on the current trajectory, he was on I really doubted he'd make it to graduation before he dons an orange jumpsuit.
***
(Olivia Jade Rivera POV):
"Maldito, Ethan." I groaned, my finger leaving the slat in my blind as it closed. Walking toward my bed I snatched up my phone, my heart hammering in my chest as I scrolled through my contacts.
Ethan's number is easy to find, the stupid heart emoji next to his name causing a blush to spread across the bridge of my nose as I tapped his contact. The dial tone fills my ear before it is abruptly cut off, the muffled sound of a car gliding across the highway replacing the static noise.
'Hello?'
"…Hey, Ethan." I swallowed the lump in my throat, my eyes glancing back at the window as if I could still see past the blinds.
'Oh, Liv—sorry, I didn't really get to look at who was calling me. Thanks, by the way, everything went really smooth so I owe you for that.'
"It's not as smooth as you think it is, gringo." I could hear him tense, the line going quiet as all I heard was the sound of the car driving down the road.
'…Was there someone watching?'
"Across the road in the old car lot, a black sedan. It was a Chevy but I couldn't tell you anything about it other than that." My fingers tightened around my phone as I spoke, and the sound of my heart thumping in my chest filled my ears.
'Could you see inside?'
"N-no the windows were tinted."
'Fuck…cops're probably on his ass and now I'm on their radar! Sorry, Liv, but I've got to go!' Before I could speak again the line went dead, a growl leaking from my lips as I tossed my phone on my bed.
"Be careful you stupid bastard."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone