Dying For LA by Ian Jones (best adventure books to read TXT) 📗

tracks and then through the fence. There were visible signs and markings which disappeared once they reached the buildings.

‘So, they could be anywhere now,’ Reed said flatly.

‘Anywhere. It’s been nearly two hours. Could be out the city by now, if they had any kind of escape plan,’ John replied, staring across at the far side.

‘We’ll find them,’ Brady told them, unconvincingly.

Chapter Forty

Rico dropped onto the bed and rubbed his head fiercely with both hands.

This was absolutely not what he had signed up for.

Sal was standing staring out the window, while Pinsky stalked around the room with the mobile phone he had just purchased glued to his ear, muttering to himself.

They were in a cheap hotel room close to Long Beach. Since leaving the hotel bar things had disintegrated into madness. They had got back to base with everything seeming exactly the same as when they had left, but Pinsky had been edgy, unsettled. He instructed Rolf to get up on the bridge and keep watch, make sure he could see as much of the road as possible and then told the others to make sure the guns were all ready.

They might have to leave in a hurry was the only explanation he gave.

They busied themselves doing as they were told, the beer buzz fading and the body of Voorhees a constant reminder of the precariousness of their position. Pinsky watched, tensely holding his mobile, which rang suddenly and he jerked it to his ear. He talked fast in Russian, and then, suddenly, he relaxed. He smiled. He hung up the call.

‘Is ok. We wait, but is ok,’ he said, and turned on the TV.

The others all looked at each other and then joined him watching a show which had a pretend judge admonishing a woman who hadn’t paid her rent. But just as everything seemed to finally calm down there was a loud shout from Rolf, who breathlessly appeared on the stairs and told them the police were outside.

Pinsky grabbed a Steyr from a case with a couple of clips and ran fast up the stairs.

‘Move! Now!’ he ordered as he reached the top.

Greg picked up and AK-47 and Sal an M16 and followed. Rico looked all round, wishing he had the balls to just run out the building but instead he walked up the stairs, dread in every step.

On the bridge Pinsky was staring down, and as he crossed Rico could see a patrol car and a SWAT van. He ducked down, as all the others had. The bridge had sides of solid steel about a metre high, with a railing a few centimetres above which ran across the top.

‘Get the machine gun. Now,’ Pinsky hissed to Greg, who gave the AK to Rolf and keeping low ran back into the building.

Rico dared to peek over the side.

The police were talking to two men, one a huge motherfucker, presumably plain clothes. Both men were agitated, looked like they were trying to explain something. They kept looking at the gates and into the yard. Pinsky was aiming the Steyr through the gap between the railing and the side panels.

‘Do it,’ he ordered. ‘Do it.’

Rolf did the same, and Sal also lifted his gun.

Pinsky started firing. The shots caught everyone out. Rico ducked down as low as he could and Sal did too, but Rolf joined in.

There was no return fire.

Pinsky had ducked and was now looking through the gap over the side like before, and started shooting again. His clip emptied, so he ducked down to refit another. Sal and Rico were just watching, they had no idea what they were supposed to be doing. Rolf was still firing, but short bursts, then he stopped and ducked down, looking back at the others.

‘Now!’ Pinsky ordered, and he and Rolf started firing again.

Greg appeared, hustling as fast as he could with the heavy M60 and trying to keep down as he crossed the bridge. Pinsky and Rolf were out of ammo and Greg slid the M60 toward Pinsky, who forced the end of the clip into the breech and slammed the cover down.

‘Look, tell me what you see,’ he told Rolf, grinning like a child.

He’s enjoying this. Rico thought to himself. He wants to kill.

Rolf peered through the gap, moving his head around, he lifted it higher when there was a sudden burst of gunfire, and red mist sprayed from his head. He fell back with a thump. Ignoring it Pinsky pushed the M60 onto the top of the railing, angled it down and began firing blindly, but he only got a few shots loose before the gun jammed. Cursing in several languages he threw it down and then ran for the door into the warehouse, pulling it open.

‘Go!’ called out Sal and everyone followed the Russian as fast as they could.

The doors between the warehouses were already open which was fortunate, and the huge opening to the loading bay was secured by a heavy bar inside. They lifted it off, threw the doors wide and then ran as fast as they could, oblivious to the railroad traffic, forcing their way through the fence on the far side and across the wasteland.

Once they had reached the buildings Pinsky ran into a car park in an apartment building and they hunkered down in a corner, wild eyed.

‘How?’ cried out Pinsky. ‘Which one is the fucking rat? Is you?’ he shoved Sal hard.

‘What? No, of course not. Fuck Leo we’ve been in this shit four fucking months!’ Sal told him.

Pinsky stared at them, and then pulled the Makarov from his jacket.

‘Fuck,’ thought Rico to himself. He had forgotten about that. He was starting to think they should just take their chances with Leo, overpower him and get the hell away.

Pinsky stared at them all.

‘Is true,’ he said quietly then shot Greg in the face.

‘What the fuck!’ Sal exclaimed, but Pinsky was already up and moving.

‘Come on. We go. Now. Move.’

And Sal and Rico, not knowing any better, unable to think for themselves any