Shadow target a shadow t.., p.26
Shadow Target (A Shadow Target Thriller Book 1), page 26
His body fell to the slab as Sledge stood and moved around the car door to the hood. The three points of impact bled and stained the man’s shirt red as Sledge covered him, then he glanced at the street.
Gunshots rang out from the lowered passenger window of the black sedan. The incoming gunfire punched the grill and hood of Rick’s car near Sledge as he made for cover behind the wall by the garage door. He held his position for ten seconds and popped off a string of return fire at the car.
Tires squealed. The vehicle took off down the road at a fast clip. Sledge hauled ass to the street and made for his car. He caught sight of the sedan getting further away as he got inside and fired up the Chevelle.
The engine roared to life. He shifted into first gear, punched the gas pedal, and torqued the wheel. The Chevelle pulled away from the curb and made a sharp turn in the street.
Its tires smoked white as the back end swung out from the horsepower driving the bulky muscle car forward. Sledge straightened his trajectory and gave pursuit of the fleeing occupants who had just taken out Rick, and nearly him.
His hands clutched the steering wheel and gearshift as he tried to cut the distance between him and the sedan. The black car hooked a right at the stop sign without slowing a beat.
Sledge parroted the move by slamming the Chevelle into a lower gear, increasing his torque and allowing him to accelerate through the turn while keeping the tires hugging the road.
An approaching van blared its horn from a near collision of the two vehicles. The woman behind the wheel pumped her fist at Sledge and laid on the van’s horn to convey her thoughts.
Traffic was sparse but Sledge hated having a high-speed chase in the suburbs. The roads were tight with cars lining the streets, not to mention the infinite blind spots that one had to be mindful of from cars backing out into the road, or kids popping out in front of them while playing.
On the straightaway, the Chevelle gained on the sedan. Its powerful engine ate at the killer’s advantage with each rotation of the tires. If all went well, Sledge would overtake them.
A car backed out into the street and almost collided with the sedan. It made a wide arc around the vehicle to avoid ramming the car and maintained its heading. Sledge drove around the car as it backed up a hair more then stopped as he flew by.
The Chevelle’s engine sputtered. A rattle formed under the hood and grew louder the harder Sledge pushed the muscle car after Vega’s men. Although the Chevelle ran well enough, the engine’s makeover wasn’t complete and old parts were still scattered throughout it. Sledge prayed it wouldn’t crap out on him. He needed to take the sedan out before they slipped through his fingers.
Their chase carved a path out of the suburbs and onto the freeway during rush hour. An endless sea of cars funneled into Atlanta’s downtown. The glow of red brake lights shone at them. It was bumper-to-bumper as far as Sledge could see; that proved to be in his favor. The hitmen’s car would be at the mercy of gridlocked traffic that kept the sedan from crossing lanes of cars and trucks driving into the city.
They kept to the shoulder of the freeway and maintained their insane speed, which was currently over seventy miles per hour and climbing. The gridlocked traffic whipped past Sledge’s window in a blur of color. The driver ahead showed no fear and dodged any obstacles put in his way with little effort.
You can run but you’re not going to get away. Sledge was more determined than ever to catch the fleeing men, staying within twenty feet of the speeding sedan.
As he pushed the Chevelle after the sedan, sirens whined at his six. Sledge cut his gaze to the rearview mirror. Red flashing lights from Atlanta’s finest came into view. The cruiser followed their path of reckless driving along the shoulder while trying to catch up.
Not only did Sledge have to contend with the men in the sedan, but he now had to lose the patrol car trailing him. Great! That was a development he didn’t need right then.
A sign up ahead signaled that the next exit was a mile up. Sledge figured the sedan would want to get off the freeway and back to the city streets. In a long enough straightway, the Chevelle would be able to overtake the sedan, but narrow city streets added a degree of difficulty to his chances of being able to accomplish that.
The sedan veered toward the throng of cars in the far-right lane to avoid a chunk of tire that resided on the shoulder. It came within inches of swapping paint with the truck that pulled away.
From there, the pickup swerved into the throng of traffic and caused a chain reaction of drivers slamming brakes and steering clear. As Sledge skirted by the rubber chunk of the tire, a car poked its nose into his path. He jerked the wheel hard toward the barrier wall. The Chevelle responded immediately and cut around the vehicle’s passenger quarter panel.
Sledge threaded the muscle car through the narrow gap as he drifted toward the concrete wall. He cringed as the passenger mirror skidded over the surface. It bent inward from the contact, but as Sledge pulled away from the wall, it remained attached to the door.
The black sedan veered toward the curved exit that climbed at an angle. Cars leaving the mess of the freeway stopped and pulled over as they raced up the ramp.
A din of horns blasting their anger charged the morning air as Sledge closed in on the sedan’s back bumper. They followed the winding curve of the ramp which left little room for error. Neither Sledge nor the killers he chased refused to stop while within the dense traffic of steel around them.
Sledge ignored the trailing police cruiser’s flashing lights and the whine of its siren. Additional units were undoubtedly contacted and given their positions, which meant reinforcements would be tracking them down soon.
At the approaching intersection, cars refused to advance as the signal flicked from red to green. The black sedan slowed as the gap they piloted through shrank; the barrier wall to their right and the line of vehicles on their left funneled in and reduced the opening.
It failed to deter the brazen driver who expertly threaded the sedan past the cars while swapping paint with a few of them. The contact rocked the stationary vehicles. Sledge gained on the black sedan and rammed its back bumper as they emerged onto the street.
Tires screeched as they dodged cars that tried to steer out of their way. Each vehicle hurling at them changed course and flew by, darting into the opposite lane of traffic or going off the street.
No major crashes happened because of the chase. Sledge was relieved by that fact as he didn’t want innocent people hurt because of them. The reckless pursuit had to end soon, one way or another.
The sedan swerved, dodging the inbound cars that drove at them. They decided on going against the flow of traffic in every attempt to ditch Sledge and the authorities that were trailing after them. He stayed the course and followed wherever the sedan went. Neither vehicle let up, pushing along the streets that teemed with early morning commuters heading to their jobs.
Cars passed by the two vehicles on either side of them as the streets cleared a path. The cruiser trailing far behind them got blocked by the mess of vehicles that were scattered across the road during the chase.
At the approaching signal, the black sedan cut across the lanes of traffic on a dime. It was a harrowing maneuver that sent the vehicle flirting with danger. Drivers not paying close enough attention slammed their brakes and steered out of the car's way as it raced past the scattering traffic.
Sledge tried to follow suit, but he was blocked by the vehicles that the sedan had cut around. His foot crammed the brake and clutch to the floor. All four tires of the muscle car locked up. It skidded to a halt just shy of crashing into a pickup truck, leaving little room between the front bumper of the Chevelle and the pickup's cab.
“Come on! Move!” Sledge waved at the driver of the truck to move out of his way, but it was too late.
By the time Sledge managed to get through the blockade, the black sedan had vanished into the city. With the claxon of sirens converging on his position, Sledge discontinued his pursuit of the killers and disappeared before the authorities had a chance to stop him.
Chapter 56
After stopping in an alley and changing out the license plates on the Chevelle in a lame attempt at evading the authorities, Sledge saddled back up in the car. Between losing Rick and every other possible lead he had, the ambush at Vega’s, Cobalt breathing down his neck, Trixie being in constant danger, Kim no closer to coming home, and the adrenaline surge from the high-speed chase that ended fruitlessly, Sledge was on the verge of a meltdown. This job had been a cataclysmic failure from stem to stern. Heat coursed through Sledge’s veins and culminated in his head as he gripped the steering wheel and screamed the only thing that came to his mind, “Fuuuuck!”
His phone buzzed from his back pants pocket, reorienting him to the present moment.
Detective Wentworth’s phone number splashed onto the screen. Sledge answered the call while checking the rearview mirror for Atlanta’s finest.
“You have impeccable timing. What’s up?”
“Nothing good.”
That was not what Sledge wanted to hear. “Where are you? Do you have time to meet? I’d rather do this in person if we can.”
He said nothing at first. Then Wentworth spoke up. “Yeah. I’ve got a bit of time. When and where?”
“The West End Diner.” Sledge glanced at his watch. It was 8:45 a.m. “Say, fifteen minutes?”
“That will work.”
“See you then. I’ll have a table in the corner of the diner.”
The call ended. Sledge put the phone on the seat and rubbed his hand over his face. He had no idea what bad news Wentworth would drop in his lap, but there was no avoiding the inevitable.
Sledge rolled down the alley to the street and merged with the traffic heading west. It had thinned, but the early morning commuters were still out in force. He made his way through the city while trying to figure out what bad news the detective had. His first thought was that they had discovered Kim’s dead body. Even though Rick said she was still alive, the cop couldn’t be trusted given recent events. As much as Sledge wanted to discount the notion, it was rooted inside his brain and expanded into a life of its own.
No. It isn’t that, Sledge thought at the stop light.
His fingers tapped the base of his chin as he sat and contemplated what else it could be. The light changed and he drove on and made a right toward the diner.
He pulled into the busy parking lot and took one of the empty slots at the back. The Chevelle whipped into the space and stopped. Sledge switched off the rattling engine which sounded rough after the intense pursuit; then he removed the keys and got out of the car.
By the time Sledge made it into the diner and took his seat at the booth in the corner of the restaurant, Wentworth was walking up the walkway to the entrance. A large party of businessmen funneling outside blocked his way, forcing the detective to wait and hold the door open for them.
“What can I get started for you, honey?” an upbeat, dirty-blonde-haired woman asked. She was young, perhaps mid-thirties. A wide, inviting smile formed on her face as she waited to scribble down Sledge’s order on the notepad using the pen she clutched.
“Is Sandra not working this morning?” Sledge asked as Wentworth skirted by the remainder of the suits leaving the diner.
“She’s off for the next few days,” the waitress answered. “I’ll take good care of you, though, don’t you worry.” She winked and widened her smile as Wentworth approached the table.
“I’ll take coffee. Black.” Sledge tipped his head at the detective who slid into the bench seat across from him.
“Anything to eat, sweetie?” the waitress asked Sledge.
He was hungry. Their meeting at the diner would kill two birds with one stone.
“A slice of apple pie will be fine.”
She scribbled it down and then turned to Wentworth. “And for you, handsome?”
“Coffee will be good. Cream and sugar.”
“Easy enough. I’ll be back shortly, gentlemen, with those cups of Joe and pie.” She stuffed the notepad and pen in the front pocket of her apron. “I’m Alice, by the way. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thank you,” Sledge said as she turned and made for the counter.
Wentworth stared at Sledge from across the table. “You look like shit. Rough night?”
“Rough night and morning,” Sledge replied. “Your phone call didn’t help either, just so you know. We need a bit of good news here.”
“Yeah, well, I hate to disappoint.”
Alice marched to their table with a pot of coffee, two white mugs, and a small plate of apple pie. “Okay, gentlemen. Here we are.”
They tabled their conversation as she put the mugs and pie down. Alice filled both mugs with coffee, smiling the entire time. Steam rose from the brew. The scent of the roasted beans filled the air. She dug into her apron and removed the round containers of cream and put them next to Wentworth’s mug.
He said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The sugar is in the little holder over by the napkins.” Alice turned and glanced at the tables behind Wentworth. “Enjoy, gentlemen. I’ll be back by here in a bit to check on you.”
When she vacated the area, Wentworth continued while adding the creamer and sugar to the coffee. “The meat packing plant you told me about didn’t pan out.”
“Why?” Sledge asked as his stomach sank from the response. “Did you not find anything there?”
“I never made it.”
“What?”
Wentworth stirred the sugar and creamer into the coffee using a spoon from his side of the table. “The judge wouldn’t give me a warrant. He said there was no probable cause and evidence to support us searching it. Plus, it doesn’t help that the department has a hard-on for Vega and tries to book him on any charge that will stick. That man is toxic, to say the least.”
Sledge closed his eyes and tilted his head forward in frustration. Whoever Cobalt had on the inside protecting Vega in Atlanta was super connected. It wouldn’t be much of a stretch if the group had judges in their pockets in addition to the police and lawyers. It was a rigged system, but how far up the chain remained to be seen.
“So even with actionable intel from a source, the judge wasn’t willing to entertain your request?”
“He heard everything I had to say, which wasn’t much of anything other than I had an informant who said he spotted the drugs and guns,” Wentworth replied as he sipped the coffee. “He either didn’t want to risk messing with Vega, or something else is going on.”
As Sledge sliced a piece of pie from the end, he said, “Speaking of, I uncovered your mole inside the department.”
“Oh? Who is it?”
“Rick Jenkins?”
Wentworth said nothing and sat in silence.
“I’m not sure if he’s the only one Vega and his partners have in the department. There could be more.”
“How do you know it’s him? What proof do you have?”
“The fact is he told me himself this morning after he tried to serve me up to Vega on a silver platter last night.” Sledge swallowed the pie and chased it with coffee. “I was rather shocked when I figured it out. Rick was too when I showed my face at his home early this morning as he was trying to skip town.”
“Shit.” Wentworth tapped his wedding ring against the side of the mug, which he hadn’t removed since the divorce. “Where is he at now? We need to take him to a secure location and question him. This could be the smoking gun we need to find Kim and take Vega down.”
“That’s not going to happen since he’s lying dead in his garage.”
With his voice low but strained, Wentworth shot forward and asked, “You killed him?”
Sledge dabbed the napkin at his food around his mouth. “Not me. Vega’s goons did. Two in the back. Well, at least his employer’s lackeys took him out is my best guess. I shot him in the shoulder before they arrived when he was trying to escape after I busted his ass.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
“An hour, give or take.” Sledge continued eating as Wentworth reeled from the revelation. “I went after the shooters after they dropped Rick. I lost them in traffic a short while later and had to split before the police tagged me.”
“Christ. That was you? I heard about the chase.”
“Yeah. I almost had them, but the wheelman of the sedan gave me the slip.”
“Did you get the plate of the car?”
Sledge shook his head. “There wasn’t a plate on the back. Come to think of it, the vehicle didn’t have any branding on the trunk. It could have been a Lexus, BMW, or several other sedans.”
Wentworth massaged his brow. Sledge understood his irritation. He said, “Well, hell. I’ll need to call in the hit on Rick and get units to his home.”
“What are you going to tell the department?” Sledge wondered if the detective was going to try and take him in. That wouldn’t work out too well for Wentworth if he tried.
“I’ll figure something out. You should have contacted me about Rick and let me handle it.”
“I doubt that would’ve changed the outcome,” Sledge replied. “Vega and his employers are after me now. They want me dead since I’m getting closer to their operation. You should watch your six if you don’t want a bullet in your back or head.”
“I’m not averse to being a target of criminals. They can come at me all they want, but it’s not going to dissuade me from finding Kim. By the way, we’re still sucking fumes. I’ve got feelers out but no one is talking, not to me, anyway.”
“Keep working at it. Rick told me that she was still alive and still in the city. Vega is waiting to transfer her to the scumbag who bought her. I guess us squeezing them has messed with their timetable on completing the deal.”
“Name?”
“He didn’t give one.” Sledge placed the fork on the side of the plate and drank from the mug. “You know as much as I do now.”
