The Abduction

9

The Wharton Middle School van pulled into a narrow alley behind an old redbrick warehouse. It bounced over a pile of rusty pipes and a series of muddy potholes, slowing as it reached the garage at the end of the alley. The corrugated metal door rattled as it recoiled on noisy spring hinges. It opened just enough to allow the van to pass, then quickly rolled down. The van stopped inside, beside a white Buick Riviera with New York license plates.

Fluorescent lights blinked on from the rafters overhead, illuminating the garage. Oil stains dotted the cracked cement floors like huge amoebas. Beneath the dusty canvas tarpaulins lay mounds of useless machine parts.
Two men jumped out of the van, both wearing leather gloves and black leather jackets. The driver was Tony Delgado, a heavyset Italian with a Brooklyn accent. His younger brother Johnny was smiling widely.
“Perfecta-mundo!” Johnny crowed. He and his brother slapped each other on the back.
A third man emerged from behind the Buick. He was tall and clean-shaven, easily more handsome than the others. He was younger, too, in his early twenties, closer in age to Johnny than the older Delgado. Tony, the ringleader, had purposely kept his accomplices from meeting each other before the kidnapping, to prevent leaks. He quickly made the introductions.
“Johnny, this is Repo.”
They shook hands. “Repo what?”
“Just Repo.”
Johnny scoffed. “What, like Cher or Madonna?”
He looked confused. “No. Like Repo.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s like Lassie. Let’s get the little princess out of the van and into the car. You got the trunk ready, Repo? She’s not gonna suffocate in there, right?”
“Have a look for yourself,” said Repo.
Tony glanced at his brother. “Johnny, empty out the van.”
Repo led Tony to the car and popped the trunk. Johnny went to the van and opened the rear emergency door.
The cargo lay exactly where he’d put it. The old man on the left, the girl on the right. Their bodies stretched from front to back beneath the bench-style seats that normally seated schoolchildren. The old man’s gag and blindfold were still in place. A black hood covered the girl’s head to make extra sure she didn’t see any of her kidnappers, just in case the injection of secobarbital sodium wore off prematurely.
Reggie lay on his left side with his back to the wall, concealing his hands behind his back, trying to act as if he were still unconscious.
Johnny grabbed the old man by the ankles, like a butcher handling a side of beef. With one foot on the bumper for leverage, he yanked his cargo, sliding him back. The bony old legs dangled over the back.
Suddenly, the limp torso sprang to life, lunging forward, leading with a jackknife. The blade stuck in Johnny’s shoulder.
“Son of a bitch!”
Reggie surged forward with all his strength, ripping off his blindfold, swinging his fists, kicking and twisting as they wrestled to the ground.
The younger man was quickly on top, staring right into the old man’s eyes as he pulled out a pistol and jammed it under his chin.
Tony grabbed him before he could pull the trigger. “Johnny, stop!”
Johnny was breathing heavy, seething with anger. Tony took the gun, but he kept it pointed right at Reggie’s head.
Reggie lay flat on his back, his chest heaving, eyes wide with panic.
Johnny rose and dabbed the blood on his nice leather jacket, checking the wound. “The old bastard stabbed me.” He kicked him in the kidneys. “And he ruined my f*cking jacket!” He kicked him again.
Reggie groaned through the gag in his mouth.
Tony checked his brother’s shoulder. “Just a flesh wound. But damned if it wasn’t just six inches from your heart.” He sneered at Reggie, as if it were too close for comfort. “You coulda f*cking killed my little brother.” He kicked him even harder than Johnny had.
Another muffled cry. The body coiled with pain.
Johnny grimaced—not for the old man, but for himself. The stab wound was starting to throb. His face reddened with anger. He slammed his fist against the door of the van, then kicked the old man in the groin and stomach.
“You black piece of shit!” He kicked him again and again, in quick succession. He was yelling at him, pausing between each syllable to kick him in the ribs and kidneys, alternating left and right foot. “Don’t you ever f*ck with me again.”
His brother added a final kick to the head.
Reggie went limp.
Twenty feet away, Repo was in the trunk of the Buick, drilling more air holes between the trunk and passenger compartment. When the electric drill stopped whining, he heard laughter coming from over by the van. He crawled out of the trunk to investigate, then froze at the sight of the old man sprawled on the floor with the Delgado brothers standing over him.
“What the hell you guys doing?”
Johnny pressed a bloody rag to his shoulder. “Teaching the old nigger a lesson.”
Repo took a closer look at the twisted heap on the ground. Blood had oozed from the mouth and ears. Repo’s eyes widened with concern as he knelt and checked the pulse—first the wrist, then the jugular. He looked up in disbelief. “He’s dead.”
Johnny shifted uncomfortably. “All we did was kick him.”
Repo glanced at Johnny’s boots. Blood covered the steel toe. “You morons killed him.”
“He tried to kill me. Shit happens.”
Repo grabbed him by the collar, pinning him against the van. “Nobody was supposed to get killed!”
Tony split them apart. “Hey, hey, hey! He’s dead. It’s over.”
“The hell it’s over,” said Repo. “Now we’re all up for murder. All because this stupid jag off—”
“Hey, enough!” said Tony. He grabbed Repo by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “You gonna stand here and shit your pants? Or you gonna act like a man? This is no big deal. We just gotta dump the body, that’s all.”
“I ain’t dumping the body. It’s Johnny’s body. He can dump it.”
“Just leave it here,” said Johnny. “We’re leaving the van here anyway.”
Tony shook his head. “The van is one thing. We can wipe it clean. But dead bodies leave too much evidence. After that fight, the old man could easily have enough of your skin under his fingernails for some geek with a microscope to identify your DNA. He’s probably got some of your blood on him, too.”
Johnny grimaced, concerned. “That means we can’t leave the van here, either. We can’t leave nothin’ that shows we were here. They might find a little drop of my blood on the floor.”
Tony glared at his brother. “Damn it, Johnny. You f*cked up already.”
“Me? You helped.”
“Shut up!” said Repo. “Here’s the deal. We need to get the girl out of Nashville—now. I say Johnny takes the van and dumps the body. Me and Tony take the girl. We all meet up later.”
“I can’t drive the van around Nashville,” said Johnny. “I’ll get caught for sure.”
Repo checked his watch. “Kristen’s class just started five minutes ago. The van isn’t due back at the middle school for another fifteen. It’ll be at least that long before the school confirms she isn’t sick or skipping class, or that the van isn’t just stuck in traffic. I figure Johnny’s got at least that long to dump the van, before the cops put out an APB.”
The Delgados exchanged glances, then Tony nodded. “You gotta do it, Johnny. We’ll meet up in Maryland. You know the address, right? Forty-six Commonwealth Boulevard.”
Johnny scoffed. “How the hell do you expect me to get there? School bus?”
“I don’t care how,” said Tony. “Just make sure you’re not being followed. If you fly, make a connection. If you drive, change cars at least once.”
“What about my shoulder?”
“It’s a scratch,” said Tony. “Just don’t go around wearing that jacket with the knife hole in it. Take the old man’s coat.”
“I ain’t wearing no nigger’s clothes.”
Repo shoved him in the shoulder. Johnny shrieked in pain.
“Who the hell are you,” snapped Repo, “Calvin Klein? Enough with the f*cking wardrobe already. Just shut up and dump the body.”
He rubbed his sore shoulder, glaring at Repo. “Where am I supposed to dump it?”
“You should have thought of that before you kicked his teeth in.”
Tony grumbled. “Just dump it somewhere that will throw the cops off our trail. And do it soon. Like Repo says, you got only about fifteen minutes before word gets out she’s missing and the cops start searching for the van. Now, let’s move it.”
Repo and Johnny exchanged glares, then looked away. The Delgados loaded the body into the van. Repo gently carried Kristen from the van to the car, placing her comfortably in the trunk. He was glad she hadn’t heard any of it, as she was still unconscious from the injection. The garage door opened. Johnny drove the van out, followed by Tony in the Buick. Repo jumped in the passenger side, beside Tony.
Steering down the alley, Tony lit up a cigarette and handed it to Repo. He lit another for himself. “You know we had to kill that guy. He saw Johnny’s face. Mine, too.”
Repo took a drag from the cigarette, held it, then exhaled a huge cloud of smoke. “You should have given him a shot, knocked him out good, like the girl.”
“That’s risky with old people. If he was on some kind of medication, a shot could have killed him.”
Repo shook his head, nervously puffing his cigarette. “I don’t like this, man. Wasn’t nobody supposed to get killed.”
Tony turned deadly serious. “Deal with it, partner. The rules just changed.”