THE THREE RULES
Harvey Schlemmer reflexively dove to the floor, John
Gorman’s office window exploding inward.
Harvey gasped, the ringing in his ears fading just enough to
discern the sound of gun fire. Screams
and shouts came from the factory floor below.
Harvey could discern only a few words clearly, blaring though a
bullhorn. “Federal Agents – this is a
raid!”
Harvey choked, stinking smoke from the broken window
flooding the office.
“Schlemmer, you bastard!” Gorman shouted into his
handkerchief. “You told me those Chinese
circuits couldn’t be traced!”
Harvey glanced out the broken window, seeing the black smoke
gushing out of the ruined machinery below, fire spreading. Apparently, the foreman had detonated the
self-destruct charges to conceal evidence.
“Could we discuss this later, John?” Harvey asked, wetting a
handkerchief at the water cooler and covering his face. “Do you have an escape route?” He gasped as Gorman pulled a gun from his
desk drawer.
“Yeah, I do,” Gorman said, pointing the gun at Harvey. “And, I’ll be taking it without you. You sold me out, you sonovabitch!”
The crack and blinding flash of a rocket-propelled grenade
startled Gorman for a second. Just long
enough for Harvey to grab his wrist and wrench the gun away from him. “I don’t have time to argue,” Harvey said,
pointing the gun at Gorman’s head. “Get
us out of here, now!”
They both kept low as Gorman led him to a hidden elevator
which took them to an underground parking garage. “For the record, John, old buddy…I didn’t
sell you out,” Harvey said as Gorman led him to his car. “You really think I’d be dumb enough to be
with you in your office if I had? Or,
that I’d sell out my own buyer? My own
suppliers’d kill me if I did that, you jerk!
You have a traitor in your company, John. There’s no other way the feds could have
found out.”
“S-sure, Harv,”
Gorman stammered, trembling as he unlocked the car, the remote beeping. “You’re right, of course. I just panicked, that’s all.”
“Save it,” Harvey said, climbing into the back seat, the gun
to the back of Gorman’s head as he took the wheel. “Just drive.”
Gorman brought up the A.I., raising the garage door. The tires screeched as they drove up the ramp
through the hidden door, sunlight streaming down. Harvey’s heart started to settle to a gentle
throbbing, sweat covering his body. He lurched
as the brakes automatically engaged, shadows surrounding the car. Harvey started, machine gun fire ripping
through the car. He dropped to the floor
as the windshield shattered. He heard
the soft thumping of bullets going through the driver’s seat, blood splattering
across his jacket. He heard multiple
pairs of booted feet running towards the car.
As the driver’s door was ripped open and John Gorman’s dead body was
pulled out, Harvey’s life…every deal, every narrow escape…raced through his
mind. What to do? Shoot it out with the feds…or, take the easy
way out and put the gun to his own head?
He was dead either way. And,
surrender wasn’t an option. Smuggling
foreign imports was an automatic death sentence. And, he sure as hell wouldn’t snitch under
torture.
He remembered the three rules of business his old man had
taught him. The first two in particular: never snitch and never hurt anybody unless
you have to. He winced, forcing back the
tears. Go out like a man, at least, he shouted at himself. He thought of Linda as he put the gun to his
head. The passenger door flew open. His finger tightened on the trigger.
“Schlemmer, don’t!” a distorted voice said through the
microphone of a grotesque gas mask as the riot-armored fed grabbed the barrel
of the gun, pulling it away from Harvey’s head.
Harvey struggled for the gun, images of torture racing through his
mind. “Calm down, you idiot,” the fed
said as he removed his mask. “It’s me.”
“Carlson,” Harvey muttered in relief as he slumped back on
the seat, relinquishing the gun.
“We got a hostage here,” Carlson shouted to his fellow agents. “I got it.
Secure the area.” Carlson sighed
as the other feds disbursed. “You didn’t
have to make a dash for it, Schlem,” Carlson whispered, pulling Harvey to a
seated position and brushing him off.
“We weren’t here for you. That
explosion in the factory tells me you sold Gorman some foreign imports…Chinese
circuit boards’d be my guess. But, we’re
here ‘cause his loyal workers told us he had some illegal migrants workin’ for
him. ‘Guess the bounty was better than
what they’re getting paid these days.”
The sound of gunshots rang out in the distance. “That’ll be the migrants getting ‘deported on
site.’” He chuckled. “Well, two birds with one stone.”
Harvey felt like throwing up. “So…” Harvey wiped the sweat off his
face. “What now?”
“Nothing. Your
protection’s paid up for this month. See
you next month.” He smiled and pointed
his finger at Harvey, winking as he took off.
Harvey lay back on the seat and sighed. His luck sometimes led him to wonder if God
was saving something damn’ horrible for him.
#
Harvey sighed, sitting up in bed as Linda got dressed. He looked her over, licking his lips. She had a way of making him feel…human
again. However dirty his business got.
“What are you looking at?” she asked with amusement,
buttoning her shirt.
“Just you, babe,” he said softly. He didn’t know why she bothered with
him. A distraction from her damned war,
maybe. Probably nothing more. Whatever the reason, he was just damned glad
she was in his life.
“Get dressed,” she said, tossing him his pants and
shirt. “We have business to conclude.”
#
“Landing rights confirmed for that cargo plane into Dallas,”
she said, tapping away at her PC, hacking into the air traffic control net. “Authorization code has been accepted. As far as state air security is concerned,
that’s a fuel shipment intended for the state militia.”
He smiled, lighting a cigarette. He never ceased to be amazed by her talent. “What’d you do this time? Steal the regional governor’s personal
authorization code?”
“Not that hard.
They’re cutting back on everything, even air security. Have you handled it?”
“Of course. Never
doubt my professionalism. The medical
supplies were smuggled out of Denmark by sub and stashed on that U.S. cargo
ship making the return run from occupied Greenland. Transferred to the cargo plane at Logan,
inside the empty fuel containers. No
slip-ups.”
“There better not be.
Those vaccines are badly needed in Texas. The epidemic’s totally out of control.” She looked up at him. “You do realize
trafficking in those vaccines carries a death sentence.”
“Of course I know, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. “That’s the business I’m in. Now, how ‘bout that food shipment out of
Mexico?”
“Authorization codes confirmed. And, bribes have been conveyed into the
offshore account of a certain customs official we’ve recruited. The phony military convoy carrying the food
will definitely not be searched. Just
make sure the food’s safe. A lot of
hungry kids in Texas and Oklahoma are counting on those shipments. ”
“Have I ever let you
down?”
“Not in any way,” she said with a smirk, taking the
cigarette out of his mouth and taking a drag.
“Mmmm…these are illegal, of course?”
“Of course,” he said, taking back the weed. “Turkish.
I make a fortune smuggling them in.
I just hope you came through on those authorization codes. I’ve got a lot invested in those shipments.”
She sighed, walking away from him. “Don’t
worry, Harv. You’ll get your money.” She got a beer out of the mini-fridge and
opened it.
“Can I have one?”
She tossed him a can.
“The money’s all you care about, isn’t it?”
He sighed. “Not now,
okay? Operators like me are what make
your little errands of mercy possible.
Don’t forget that.” He took a
swig of the illegally imported German brew.
“Nice. Still cold, too.” He glanced at the wiring into the fridge,
noting the illegal solar tech was still working.
“You could make a lot more money if you wanted to,” she
said, turning the PC screen towards him and hacking into a military drone feed.
He watched as a military helicarrier exploded over New York
Harbor. Linda smiled, thrusting a fist
triumphantly into the air. He took
another swig of beer to kill his disgust.
“You actually enjoy it, don’t you?
The killing, I mean.”
She sneered at him.
“The general on that carrier was tried in absentia at the ICC and
convicted as a war criminal. He
commanded death squads that rounded up
and butchered close to a million people.”
“Illegal aliens.”
“Refugees! Most of
them fleeing the military puppet regime our beloved government set up in occupied
Panama. Their cities have been bombed,
their homes destroyed, their lands ruined, their resources stolen, their kids sold
either to the slave mines or into sex trafficking.”
“And, this helps?”
“It’s a start. We
took out that hellicarrier with a Japanese micro-drone. They’re damned hard to come by these
days. But, with your connections…”
“Forget it!” He finished
off the beer and crushed the can. “We’ve
had this conversation. I’m not an arms
trader. Food, med supplies and
industrial parts, sure. But, no
weapons.” He remembered the third and
last rule his dad had taught him. Never
take sides. Always follow those three rules, son, and you’ll live to count your
money. His father had been killed in
the crossfire when the insurgency started, after the government started burning
colleges and standing lawyers and judges against the wall. Harv had been about 14 when his dad bought
it. But, Pop had left him advice that
had kept him alive since.
Linda crushed her own beer can and tossed it past him. Her face was flushed, her eyes wide. “Can’t you see what’s happening all around
you? Those bastards in D.C. are ruining
this country. Not simply out of sheer
stupidity as some of their predecessors did.
They’re selling us out to Russia.”
He crushed out his cigarette. “You don’t know that.”
“Have you any idea how many Russian arms shipments we’ve
intercepted coming into the states? Why
do you think so many American military units are defecting to our side? War is coming, Harv. Sooner or later, you’ll have to pick a side.”
He looked away from her.
She also had a damned way of making him feel guilty. “I don’t want to kill anybody, okay? I just don’t freaking want to kill
anybody! I have seen too damned much
killing. I’m tired of holding guns. I’m damned tired of having blood on my
clothes!”
“All right! All
right…” Her voice softened a bit as she
walked towards him. “You don’t want to
smuggle weapons, okay. So, how about
helping save some lives?”
“I thought I was.”
“I’m talking about a group of refugees out of Panama. Mostly women and children. Running from slavery and rape. I can cover the shipping records and docking
permits, but we need you to score a boat for us. One that can’t be traced. So we can get them to San Diego.”
“Is that all?”
“No,” she said tight-lipped.
“We’d need you on the docks to pose as the corporate buyer, sign the
paperwork and supervise the transfer of the cargo to the transport trucks. Can you help us?”
He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “You realize that’s the ultimate crime –
smuggling in illegal immigrants. That’s death
by slow torture.”
She stroked his face.
“That’s the business you’re in, sweetheart. And, you’d be very well paid. You’d also have my personal gratitude.” She kissed him. “Well?”
He tried to say ‘no.’
But, he kept hearing the gunfire at the factory. He looked into her eyes. “Okay.”
#
“There she is,” the rebel operative Hanson said, indicating
the tub The Maria Sanchez, the
dilapidated old freighter Harvey had borrowed from some business associates in
Brazil. Now, falsely registered to an
American corporation buying from the American cartel in control of the
conquered Panamanian territory.
Harvey was sweating like a pig as he glanced over the phony
cargo manifests and purchase orders.
He’d be damned glad when this was over.
“Loosen up,” Hanson whispered to him. “Looking nervous can be fatal. You’re supposed to be a corporate buyer. Look arrogant and self-assured.”
“Yeah, yeah…” His
blood turned to ice as alarms sounded, armored feds charging onto the docks
with guns drawn.
“This is a federal raid,” a voice blared through a
bullhorn. “Maria Sanchez…stand by to be boarded!”
“Damn!” Hanson shouted, running towards his parked car.
“What are you doing?” Harvey demanded. His heart froze solid as he saw Hanson pull a
radio detonator from under the dashboard.
“No!” He grabbed Hanson’s wrist, struggling for the device. He would not be responsible for the deaths of
women and children, damn it!
“We can’t do a damn thing for them now!” Hanson growled
through clenched teeth. “If the feds
board that ship, they’ll butcher every last man, woman and child aboard and
send their heads home to their families as examples! And, if they torture information out of them
first, which they will… we’re dead too!
We can’t help them by dying with them!”
Harvey realized he was right as Hanson pulled his hand away
and triggered the detonator.
Harvey turned away, covering his ears against the thundering
explosion as the Maria Sanchez went
up in a soaring geyser of fire and steel.
He turned, staggering away, feeling he was in a nightmare.
“Come on!” Hanson shouted, grabbing his arm.
Harvey pulled away and walked on. He didn’t know why in hell. He just couldn’t leave. The searing heat off the burning ship drifted
across the bay, washing over him like a summer breeze. He thought of the innocent dead lying in
ashes at the bottom of the bay. In a
strange and horrible way, he found himself seeking comfort in the thought that
the federal thugs who’d meant to kill them had died with them. He was breaking a basic rule…he was taking
sides. And, he didn’t care.
“Schlemmer.” He started
at a familiar voice.
“Carlson,” he said, turning towards the voice and seeing his
business associate walking towards him, in full body armor.
“What brings you here?” Carlson asked, his face stern, his
eyes cold. “I better not find out you
had anything to do with that smuggler ship out of Panama.” He drew closer, his stinking breath spilling
over Harv. “That’s not included in our
deal.” He slid his hand over his
automatic weapon.
“You know I only deal in contraband,” Harvey said, forcing
himself to keep his eyes level with the other man’s, his breath steady. “I had some Chinese hardware on that
tub. Would you like to tell me who cut
into my profits and yours?”
“That’s need to know, buddy.
Next time, pick your transportation more carefully. It don’t pay to mix with coyotes.” Another fed walked up, dragging a little girl
along. Maybe 10, soaking wet. A pretty little Latina.
“Fished this one out of the bay, Sarge,” the man holding the
girl said.
Harvey winced as he looked into her large, dark eyes. She was trembling, her small face twisted in fear. His fists clenched.
“Well…” Carlson said with a cold smile, drawing his
gun. “’Don’t suppose the little chica
can tell us much. May as well send her
home to her mama y papa.” He smiled
broadly as he cocked the hammer.
Harvey’s stomach caught fire. “No need for me to watch this, is there?” he
asked.
“Nah…take off if you’re queasy. Now, me?
I kind of enjoy it.” He chuckled
as he pointed the gun at the girl’s head.
She screamed.
Harvey moved, pulling the gun Linda had given him from the
back of his belt and putting it to Carlson’s throat. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t even feel it as he squeezed the trigger,
Carlson’s throat exploding as he fell dead.
The girl screamed again as the goon holding her swung his machine gun
towards Harv. Harv pumped two slugs
through the pig’s head before he could get the safety off.
The girl fainted as Harv caught her and lowered her gently
to the dock. He searched Carlson’s body,
finding his phone. He picked the girl
up.
She was limp in his arms as he ran. But, she was alive. She’d stay that way if it killed him.
#
He handed the girl to a rebel woman as he rendezvoused with
Hanson and his people at an abandoned shipyard.
“Here,” he said, handing Hanson Carlson’s phone. “The saved texts name a guy in your network
who sold you out.”
“Thanks,” Carlson said, cold and stiff. “We’ll mail him to D.C. in pieces.” He grit his teeth. “I just wish we’d found him sooner.”
Harvey’s blood ran cold as he looked into the hollow stare
of Hanson’s eyes. “Linda?”
“Dead. Our cell was
raided. She killed three of the bastards
before they got her. We tripped the
charges and killed the rest of the scum.”
Harvey breathed deeply, clenching his teeth. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to do something else. He wanted revenge. He wanted to kill. When he could find his voice again, he looked
at Hanson. “Linda said you needed
weapons. Japanese micro-drones. Chinese RPG’s. Smart bombs out of the European Enclave. Just ask…I can get whatever you need.”
Hanson nodded. “We’ll
be in touch.” He left with his people.
Harvey looked out over the sea.
Sorry, Pop. The rules just changed.
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