The Box by Jeremy Brown (ebook reader with built in dictionary TXT) 📗

black, but Benj had a flashlight on the ground next to his feet. He was crouched in front of Pavel and Costel, sitting with their backs against the concrete wall.

Razvan snatched the flashlight up and pointed it into the back of the truck.

Empty, like Benj had said.

He looked at the doors and saw the shear marks from the explosives, then stabbed the beam at Pavel and Costel.

They blinked in the light and held their hands up, but Razvan could still see their faces, a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and shame.

They hadn’t done this.

“Meet me on the other side,” Razvan said.

He threw the flashlight at Benj and went back out to his truck, a Ford F-250, and drove it up the slope on the right side of the tunnel. He bumped over the train tracks and went down the other side, keeping the truck straight so it wouldn’t roll, and stopped next to Benj’s Tacoma.

The three men were standing there, waiting.

Pavel and Costel looked dazed and grimy from whatever they’d been through, but that was their problem.

Razvan said, “Pavel, get in with me. Tell me what happened. Costel, ride with Benj and tell him.”

Everyone started moving, and Razvan watched the two men for any glances of anxiety or agreement.

He’d grill Benj about it later, and if the stories didn’t match up, he’d have to revisit his decision about their involvement. Maybe with a blowtorch.

But they didn’t seem concerned about being split up, and Pavel told the story while Razvan pushed the truck to its top speed all the way to the main crossroads, slowing down once, just enough to make the turn from Pine.

White truck.

Four men.

And if Luca and Claudiu were right, these men were still here, somewhere.

Razvan parked in the middle of the crossroads and ignored the cars and trucks backed up in all four directions while he got out and walked to Luca and Claudiu.

Luca was big-boned with dark hair all over his head and face and small black eyes.

Claudiu looked like a slob, but his stooped shoulders and bored expression hid the brute strength and tenacity of a true sadist.

Razvan towered over the two men like a sentinel pine—albeit a narrow one—next to two shrubs. He wanted the people in the vehicles to see him so they would know things were being sorted out and dealt with, and so they wouldn’t open their mouths to complain.

Luca said, “We’ve been talking, and the white truck has not passed through here. Everyone we’ve seen since the money left the compound has been someone we recognize, or a rig.”

Now Razvan scanned the windshields while he listened. Local, familiar faces were on the other side of most of them, and none of those eyes met his.

They knew the drill.

Some of the big rigs had strangers at the wheel, but those men pulled loads of livestock and grain and manure, and they showed the patience of veteran haulers, accustomed to stopping for no apparent reason.

No one touched a horn.

Claudiu glanced at Razvan’s truck with Pavel inside, then Benj’s truck with Costel in the passenger seat.

“No one got hurt, eh?”

“I don’t think they did this,” Razvan said, quelling any ideas Claudiu might have about interrogations.

“But did they put up a fight?”

“Pavel said it happened too fast. The thieves disabled the truck. Pavel and Costel had to decide: Stay in the truck with the money and wait for reinforcements or get out and try to fight with pistols against automatic rifles.”

Luca said, “Four men with machine guns?”

Razvan nodded.

“That’s what they tell me. While they were deciding what to do, the thieves blew the back doors open. The details are limited after that. But they remember the white truck, and Benj passed it on his way to the tunnel. He saw it turn toward town.”

“It didn’t come through here,” Luca said again.

Razvan turned to look west along the four lanes.

“So they are over there, somewhere. North or south of the highway. Driving around or hiding.”

He told Claudiu, “Get your car, take the north side. Make calls, check with our contacts. Someone has seen them. And these men, they’ve scouted us. So they know the area, but not as well as us. Check the dead spots first, where they think no one will go.”

Claudiu didn’t seem thrilled about it, like this errand was taking him out of the action. He spat on the pavement on the way to his car and didn’t say anything to Pavel when he passed Razvan’s truck.

Razvan waved Benj over and told him, “Put Costel in my truck, then check the south quadrant.”

He gave him the same directives as Claudiu, but Benj accepted the mission with enthusiasm and made sure Pavel and Costel both had bottles of water before he sped off and turned south into the side streets.

Then Razvan called Grigore and Mihail, who were stuck out on the highway east of town in separate vehicles, where they’d been waiting for the money truck to pass. They knew the situation and were slowly working to get past all the backed-up vehicles.

Razvan told Grigore, “Come through the northeastern quadrant, just to be sure. They may have slipped through the neighborhoods.”

“If they are there, we’ll find them,” Grigore said, and hung up.

Razvan was dialing a number in Chicago when Luca said, “Police.”

Razvan put the phone away and watched Sheriff Wern’s truck coming from the south, driving in the middle of the empty south-bound lanes with his flashers on but no siren.

The sheriff, who was reasonably tall but soft and fat around the waist, stopped next to Razvan and stayed in his truck, like he didn’t want to be seen standing next to the Romanian.

Razvan stepped close to the door, forcing the Sheriff to duck down and twist his head up.

“Good morning, Sheriff.”

“Razvan.”

He pronounced it with no grace: Razz-Van.

“Mind telling me what’s going on here?”

“We’re looking for something.”

Wern nodded.

“I kinda figured that. Your armored truck is blocking the road under the tracks.”

“Nobody needs that road but us.”

Wern grimaced and looked past Razvan at