had turned off the ignition, the rear doors of the Transit opened.
Rajek jumped out, followed by another heavily tattooed and armed man. Diego stepped out and opened the trunk of Shattner’s car, and Rajek and the other man started loading burlap sacks in the boot from the Transit. Shattner stood for a moment watching the activity and then helped the transfer. He reckoned there were two hundred kilos that got loaded in the car, and from the smell, he suspected the sacks contained crack.
Rajek and his companion drove off without a word, but not without Rajek grinning at Shattner. Maybe he was wondering how long Shattner had to live.
‘You think this is a picnic?’ Diego growled when Shattner stood staring at the back of the Ford Transit.
Shattner got behind the wheel and followed Diego’s directions, taking the Belt Parkway, moving out of the city and southwards. His suspicions were confirmed when they took the I-95 and merged onto the New Jersey Turnpike.
‘New Jersey, huh?’ He turned to Diego and received a stony look in return.
He shrugged and continued driving without stopping at any of the services. Conversation wasn’t Diego’s strongest point.
Southport in Gloucester City, New Jersey, on the Delaware River was once the site of a nineteenth- century shipyard and later was an industrial site. Now it was abandoned and fenced off, industry and shipping deserting the city, and this was where Shattner guessed the crack was heading to.
A brilliant choice for a deal to go down since law enforcement never ventured there, and the only people that visited were the odd fisherman or jogger.
They drove through the city, driving normally so as not to attract any attention, and Diego relaxed beside him. Relaxed like a snake. Down they went on Klemm Avenue and through to Market Street, the town, a very small place that industry forgot and where everyone knew the other.
On Water Street, Diego made him drive all the way from the waterfront to an abandoned industrial site where power stations, chimneys, and buildings defined desolation.
Shattner parked in front of an enormous opening to a long, dilapidated structure that ran for a mile on either side of the entrance, its roof partially blown away, exposing an intestine of girders and frames. From the inside of the structure came the sound of an engine revving, and another drab Ford Transit emerged from the maw of the building and rattled across towards them. The Transit reversed so that it was back to back with Shattner’s car.
Four heavily armed men emerged from the rear of the Transit and headed towards Diego.
Through the rearview mirror Shattner could see the men sported assault rifles and handguns; one had an M203 grenade launcher hanging from his shoulder. All four of them sported the tattoos of 5Clubs; Shattner suspected this was a trade between Cruz’s chapter and whichever other chapter these four belonged to.
Diego opened the trunk, and the four men swiftly began transferring the crack to the van. He stood at one side, talking into his mobile, his gun hand casually resting inside his jacket.
Shattner, taking his cue from Diego, felt around his back, pulled out his Glock and placed it in his lap. He angled the mirrors so that he could see everyone behind him.
And then everyone heard it. Their arrival could be heard a long way away, the throbbing of powerful engines approaching fast.
Chapter 4
One of the armed men ran out to the road leading to Water Street, jerked his head both ways, and came back shouting urgently. Diego started yelling back, and the tension ratcheted up.
Shattner couldn’t make out the shouting from inside the car, but the men speeded up the transfer. He stepped out of the Toyota as, at a sharp command from Diego, the four abandoned the transfer and ran towards the Transit.
‘Cops,’ shouted Diego to Shattner, and that was enough for him to follow Diego into the back of the van.
The van was already moving when they reached it,
Rajek jumped out, followed by another heavily tattooed and armed man. Diego stepped out and opened the trunk of Shattner’s car, and Rajek and the other man started loading burlap sacks in the boot from the Transit. Shattner stood for a moment watching the activity and then helped the transfer. He reckoned there were two hundred kilos that got loaded in the car, and from the smell, he suspected the sacks contained crack.
Rajek and his companion drove off without a word, but not without Rajek grinning at Shattner. Maybe he was wondering how long Shattner had to live.
‘You think this is a picnic?’ Diego growled when Shattner stood staring at the back of the Ford Transit.
Shattner got behind the wheel and followed Diego’s directions, taking the Belt Parkway, moving out of the city and southwards. His suspicions were confirmed when they took the I-95 and merged onto the New Jersey Turnpike.
‘New Jersey, huh?’ He turned to Diego and received a stony look in return.
He shrugged and continued driving without stopping at any of the services. Conversation wasn’t Diego’s strongest point.
Southport in Gloucester City, New Jersey, on the Delaware River was once the site of a nineteenth- century shipyard and later was an industrial site. Now it was abandoned and fenced off, industry and shipping deserting the city, and this was where Shattner guessed the crack was heading to.
A brilliant choice for a deal to go down since law enforcement never ventured there, and the only people that visited were the odd fisherman or jogger.
They drove through the city, driving normally so as not to attract any attention, and Diego relaxed beside him. Relaxed like a snake. Down they went on Klemm Avenue and through to Market Street, the town, a very small place that industry forgot and where everyone knew the other.
On Water Street, Diego made him drive all the way from the waterfront to an abandoned industrial site where power stations, chimneys, and buildings defined desolation.
Shattner parked in front of an enormous opening to a long, dilapidated structure that ran for a mile on either side of the entrance, its roof partially blown away, exposing an intestine of girders and frames. From the inside of the structure came the sound of an engine revving, and another drab Ford Transit emerged from the maw of the building and rattled across towards them. The Transit reversed so that it was back to back with Shattner’s car.
Four heavily armed men emerged from the rear of the Transit and headed towards Diego.
Through the rearview mirror Shattner could see the men sported assault rifles and handguns; one had an M203 grenade launcher hanging from his shoulder. All four of them sported the tattoos of 5Clubs; Shattner suspected this was a trade between Cruz’s chapter and whichever other chapter these four belonged to.
Diego opened the trunk, and the four men swiftly began transferring the crack to the van. He stood at one side, talking into his mobile, his gun hand casually resting inside his jacket.
Shattner, taking his cue from Diego, felt around his back, pulled out his Glock and placed it in his lap. He angled the mirrors so that he could see everyone behind him.
And then everyone heard it. Their arrival could be heard a long way away, the throbbing of powerful engines approaching fast.
Chapter 4
One of the armed men ran out to the road leading to Water Street, jerked his head both ways, and came back shouting urgently. Diego started yelling back, and the tension ratcheted up.
Shattner couldn’t make out the shouting from inside the car, but the men speeded up the transfer. He stepped out of the Toyota as, at a sharp command from Diego, the four abandoned the transfer and ran towards the Transit.
‘Cops,’ shouted Diego to Shattner, and that was enough for him to follow Diego into the back of the van.
The van was already moving when they reached it,
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