THE THOUSAND DOLLAR CRACKDOWN: A Colt Ryder Thriller by J.T. Brannan

Author:J.T. Brannan [Brannan, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Arrow Publishing
Published: 2024-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

I wanted to get to that place over in Cleveland as soon as possible, but I also knew I had to do something about those guns. Right now, I knew where they were. But tomorrow? The day after? By the end of the week there could be dead bodies from shots fired by those guns, and no matter who the targets might be, that type of machine pistol would almost guarantee innocent casualties. “Collateral damage”, it was called. It had happened to me once, caught in a drive-by shooting in LA. I’d tried to protect two little girls, but they’d died in my arms. I’d survived, and gone on to make the people responsible pay the price for what they’d done. But the image of those dying girls still haunted me, and I couldn’t leave New York without doing something about the arsenal that was hiding somewhere within that Brighton Beach bazaar.

I’d thought about just calling it in to Bonaro, get him to liaise with ATF – the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives – and have them rustle up a task force from their local office to raid the place. But I didn’t know if the Russian mob had links to anyone in the ATF, and I didn’t want these guys getting warned off and moving the shipment someplace else. Even if the ATF were all above-board, I wasn’t sure how fast they could mount such an operation. Normally warrants would have to be signed off by judges, which normally took considerable time and trouble, and might not even happen if the only evidence was an anonymous tip from yours truly. So I would go it alone, although I did still notify Bronkowski about what I was doing, and again told him to be on standby to call Bonaro with everything we knew, if the shit hit the fan and something happened to me.

I’d retrieved the Colt from the garbage can outside the brothel, then made my way on foot back to the bazaar, was now back in the service yard at the rear of the building, where the truck had originally stopped to offload the merchandise. I half-expected Kane to be there waiting for me, and couldn’t help but be disappointed when there was no sign of him.

I hid behind a large dumpster, out of sight of the security camera above the rear door, as I figured out my best approach to this place. There had to be armed security inside – you didn’t leave a haul like that unattended, even if you were the biggest and baddest gang in town. The question was, how many? And would I be able to get inside without being seen, or would I be forced to go through them in order to get the job done?

I noted the position of the windows, thought about breaking in that way; there would be an alarm of some sort, but I would probably be able to get past it. Then I wondered about access from the roof.

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