Silver Justice by Russell Blake Page A

move is supposed to happen today or tomorrow, and that while the building is low security, they have the girls penned up in a chain link holding area inside the warehouse.”
    “Think we should call in an assault team?”
    “Not until we’ve done at least some cursory nosing around. No way we can justify an armed incursion if we haven’t knocked on any doors or watched the place for a while. Could be complete bullshit. But you know how this goes – every now and then a rival tips off the law to make life difficult for their adversaries. You never know. This could be an early birthday present. It’s happened before.”
    “So what do you think? We go poke our noses in and see if there are a bunch of caged Chinese girls in the back?”
    “Hardly seems likely they’d show us around if that was the case, right? No, I say we hang out here for a few hours and see who goes in and out. Then we make a call later. For now we stay put and enjoy our coffee.” He tapped the rim of his cup of convenience store brew.
    “You want to take the first nap, or should I?” his partner joked.
    They adjusted their seats to more comfortable positions, settling in for a few hours of wasted surveillance. All part of the job.
     
    ~ ~ ~
     
    Four hundred and sixty yards away, a bearded figure lowered the binoculars and thumbed his iPhone on. The photograph of a man, taken as he was walking out of the federal courthouse, had been enlarged for ease of identification.
    The blond driver had gained ten pounds in the two years since the snap had been taken, but he was unmistakable.
    The bearded man raised the glasses to his eyes again, scanning the periphery of the area where the vehicle was parked, gauging the traffic patterns of the roads feeding into the industrial park. He’d planned his escape route carefully and would be miles away before anyone had a chance to react. The flat roof of the empty structure he was perched upon hid him from view, and he seriously doubted that the pair in the car had any idea what they were walking into.
    A light breeze ruffled the nearby tree tops as a pair of gray doves took to the air. It was an idyllic day after months of gloom and cold. Spring had arrived and looked good to stay. He didn’t mind the cold, but was always glad when the sun came out and the weather got warmer. It made days like today much more pleasant – no numb hands or hours of shivering to contend with.
    He continued to check the surrounding area, then returned his attention to the car before setting the glasses down on top of the black nylon backpack next to him.
     
    ~ ~ ~
     
    “I don’t know how you can say Aerosmith and Bon Jovi in the same breath. I mean, come on. Toys in the Attic. Pump. We’re talking real rock and roll. Not pop anthems with a pretty face.”
    “Why do you always pick on Bon Jovi when you’re bored?” the blond driver asked, already knowing the answer, having had the discussion dozens of times before.
    “Because it just bugs me that they got as big as they did, and bands like Tesla and Rhino Bucket, who made real music, faded to nothing.”
    “Life’s not fair. I’m sorry to break it to you. But you’ll thank me later.”
    “It…it isn’t?” his portly partner stammered, a look of confused concern on his face as he sipped his brew.
    “No, Virginia, and there’s no Santa Cl–”
    The driver’s head exploded with a wet crack as the back of his skull blew across the rear seat, a spray of bloody tissue spackling the side windows with crimson. A hole in the windshield announced the entry point of the fifty-caliber round and the shattered rear window signaled its departure route. A second bullet tore into the driver’s throat just under his jaw, but he was already dead, even as his ruined head lolled forward to slump against the horn.
    A third shot rang out, and one of the front tires hissed as a slug ripped through it.
    The driver’s partner instinctively ducked below the level of the dashboard,