Victor yawned. He wasn’t used to being in the driver’s seat. Staring at the road as the sun came up was hypnotic and he had to blink his eyes every few minutes from drifting off. One would think that with the anxiety of his daughter being safe and what he was about to do, his body would be on full alert. But if you ask anyone who is running on barely any sleep and a gallon full of coffee, your body can be alert, but can still want to fall asleep if given the chance. This in-between space is where Victor was.
The plan was simple enough. He would finish driving to the meetup point which was an airfield and deliver the cargo. Then he would detach the trailer and drive off as fast as he could. When the trailer detached, a special mechanism, which had been attached to the trailer, would go off. According to Vee it was a gas bomb filled with a potent sleeping agent. Once everyone was incapacitated, Vee and his group would come in and capture Gene Taylor.
When told the plan, Victor was impressed that they had rigged up something that elaborate in only a few hours. Vee bragged about having the best mechanics.
It was midmorning when Victor reached the dirt road that led to the airfield. He could see it from a distance. There was a small hanger out in the middle of nowhere. It took him about ten minutes to reach the building. The hanger door was open and Gene was waiting for him with about six or seven other people. And they all had guns pointed at the truck. Gene had a pump shotgun. He motioned for Victor to get out of the truck.
“This seems a little extreme.” Victor said as casually as he could as he climbed out.
Gene walked over. “Just a precaution. I thought your daughter did the driving.”
Victor shrugged. “She was tired, so I dropped her off to rest while I finished the delivery. It was the least I could do.”
“I bet.” Gene motioned for one of the men to come over. “Pull the truck in.” The man nodded and handed his rifle to Gene who pointed it at Victor. The other men lowered their guns and walked to the hanger. “Follow them please.”
Victor did as he was told. As they entered the building, the temperature went from burning to tolerable beach day. The hanger was a large open space with a small plane. It was one of those planes that could hold at most six passengers and was only used for quick flights. It was beat up and rusted in places.
They all moved to the side as the truck was backed in and parked near the plane. The other men went over to the truck door and removed the lock.
“Be careful.” Gene called. “And make sure to check for any tampering.”
Victor sighed. He figured Gene would know something was up, but he hoped they didn’t discover the trap.
“Something wrong?” Gene asked.
“No, not really.” Victor said.
Gene nodded. A forklift came up to the truck as the men opened the door and inspected the metal box.
“Everything looks alright.” One of the men said.
“Really?” Gene looked at Victor. “We were sure you and your friends had something planned.”
“What friends?” Victor said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You mean Marty? What could he possibly rig up?”
Gene chuckled. “Cute.”
The forklift carried the metal box out of the truck and laid it on the ground. A couple of Gene’s men opened the box with crowbars. Victor thought that was a little primitive. The box popped open and a cloud of cold air flew out and dissipated. Inside was a woman’s body surrounded by a cushion-like material.
One of the men took out a syringe and injected a clear liquid into the woman’s neck. It only took a couple minutes before the woman’s eyes opened and she rose to a seated position.
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“Sleep well Jensa?” Gene asked.
The woman yawned and looked around. She had a punk-like hairstyle with her head shaved on one side and long hair hanging on the other. Her clothing matched with a purposely torn up denim jacket and one or two piercings on her face. She looked around and saw Gene with his gun pointed at Victor.
“Who’s this?” she asked.
“Your chauffeur. Figured you might owe him a thank you before you take off.”
Jensa got up and climbed out of the box. As she stretched her body, her muscles and joints popped in an uneven symphony. When she was done she walked over to Victor and looked in his face.
Jensa smiled. “You’re just like me. A smogger.”
“How can you tell?” Gene said.
“You can smell it on the breath.”
Victor had only met a couple of other smoggers in his life. It was true that the telltale sign was the smell. It was like being able to tell if someone had eaten a particular food for dinner. Each smogger had their own flavor
“The truck exhaust is obvious,” Jensa continued, “but there’s a tinge of cigarette smoke in there too. Out of curiosity, what does mine smell like to you?” After the question, Jensa exhaled into Victor’s face.
“Charred wood, marijuana and burnt hamburgers.” Victor said. He had to admit there was a certain pleasantness to the smell.
“Do we get to keep him?” she asked.
Gene shrugged. “Afraid not.”
Victor sighed. He had been in the game long enough that death threats didn’t trigger his anxiety like it used to. He did however look around and try to figure out the best way to escape. “Just can’t let me go?” Victor asked.
Gene was about to answer when Jensa interrupted him with a disgusted sound. She was staring at the airplane. “Is that what I’m flying in?”
“Don’t complain.” Gene said. “It flies well enough, and it’s old enough that it’ll give you plenty of juice for taking out the target.”
“Whatever. Who’s flying it?”
A man appeared next to her. He had bush red hair and wore a long sleeve denim shirt. “I am.”
“Well hurry up. I want to get this over with.” The man ran over and climbed into the plane. Within a minute the propellers spun with a strained effort. Jensa looked back over to Gene. “At least let him watch the take off before you blow his brains out.”
The propellers gained speed and the sound reverberated throughout the hangar and dug into Victor’s skull. Had there not been a gun to his back, he would’ve covered his ears. Jensa climbed into the plane and forced the door shut. The plane lurched forward and a thin stream of exhaust came from its engines. As the plane passed through the entrance of the hangar, Victor made his move.
He ducked down and aimed a kick at Gene’s legs. It wasn’t a hard kick but it was enough to make him buckle and loosen the grip on his gun. Another kick made Gene fall on his back with an audible grunt, and his gun fell to the ground. Victor didn’t go for it. He ran towards the truck as some of the guards began firing at him.
He managed to roll under the trailer as a spattering of dings sounded off the side of the truck. A rock dug into his elbow as he rolled. The sharp pain took him off guard, making him stumble as he got up. The gunman ran around the truck and made it to the other side just as Victor opened the driver’s side door. As he hoisted himself up, bullets hit the ground where his feet had just been.
Staying low, Victor found the keys carelessly thrown on the passenger seat. He reached for them and tried to put them in the ignition. It was too forceful and he missed the keyhole. The key bounced off the ignition and slipped out of his hand onto the floor. The gunman shattered the glass and it rained down on Victor. He tried covering his head with his hands, but he could feel the sting of the glass as it cut the back of his hands and neck.
He grabbed the keys off the floor and managed to stick them into the ignition and turn the truck on. Before he could pull himself into the seat, the door opened. Victor kicked backwards and forced the door open all the way. The door thudded against the gunman's head and knocked him backwards. Maneuvering himself under the steering wheel, Victor grabbed the door, slammed it shut and locked it.
He finally got into the seat and put the truck into gear. He also hit the special switch that Vee had pointed out, unlatched the trailer from the truck. Most trucks had a crank that you had to use to latch and unlatch the trailer, and could only be done on the outside. If this truck had been like that, Victor would’ve been dead.
The truck roared as he hit the gas. It shot forward, almost running over some of the gunmen who had tried to get in front of the trucks. A stray bullet from one of their guns shot through the windshield leaving a large hole.
As the truck pulled out of the airplane hangar there was a large pop and a blast of white smoke began to fill the entire area. There were a couple of gun shots that struck the truck, but after a few seconds, they stopped.
Ahead, the airplane was far off and looked like it was almost at taking off speed. Victor gunned the engine as hard as he could. It took almost a full minute for him to gain any ground on the plane. From what he could see they were almost out of runway. He only had one chance to do what he was about to do next. After straightening the steering wheel as best as he could, he stood up and opened the door.