Chapter 72
When Sardar didn’t answer right away, Flynn repeated, “You’d better have the money, or I’m driving that fucking truck into
the Potomac River.”
Sardar glanced left and right, then held up his hands, “Keep your voice down. I told you, I need you to do one more thing
before you’re paid. A small thing. I can’t operate the truck to extract the contents. That’s all I need help with.”
“Look, we’re a day late on the delivery from the bill of lading. We called and told them we had engine trouble, but they’re
going to be looking for that truck in the next twenty-four hours, so I’m not too keen on driving it any longer than I have
to.”
“The transfer will be tonight. After that, you can leave the truck wherever you want. I’ll double your fee. You get twice
what you thought you would for about two hours’ worth of work.”
He saw Tusk’s face light up, but Flynn said, “What are you using for the transfer? It’ll have to be huge. I mean, if you think
you’re going to use drums, you’ll need about six hundred of them.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’ll be going straight into one large container in the ground.”
Flynn considered what he said. Tusk said, “Come on, Flynn. Double our pay?”
Flynn scowled at him, then said, “Okay, but it’s got to be tonight. Tomorrow, that truck is wanted.”
“It will be.” Sardar considered his next words carefully, weighing whether to keep them in the dark or tell them.
His preferred option was to not tell them anything, but they were not stupid.
Or at least, Flynn wasn’t. When they pulled up to the transfer point, they would know, and that moment was not the time to have an argument.
Better to get them to commit here, right now.
But he would have to do it carefully, creating a story that would give them a reason to continue, as he was sure if they knew the truth, no amount of money would convince them to help.
Flynn said, “Where do we take it and what are we dumping it in?”
Sardar said, “What would you pay to cause trouble for your Drug Enforcement Agency, the FBI, and the . . . the, what do you
call it? The tobacco and firearms agency?”
Flynn furrowed his brow and said, “The ATF. What does that have to do with this?”
“Would you like that?”
“Yeah, of course, but if that’s your method of payment, then no. I’d rather have cash.”
“No, no. The payment will be the same. The drop-off I want you to do has the side benefit of harming them.”
“How? Where is it?”
Sardar pulled out his phone, starting Google Maps and punched in an address. He zoomed in to the location and said, “Right
here.”
Flynn and Tusk crowded around the phone, Flynn looking up and saying, “The McMillan Reservoir? What’s that?”
“It’s the source of water for US federal security agencies in Washington, DC, like the ATF, FBI, and DEA.” Which was only
partially true, as the reservoir was the source of water for all of Washington, DC.
“You want to dump all that fentanyl into the DC water supply?”
“No, no, I’m not crazy. Like you, I have no wish to harm innocent civilians. This is protected water, used only for the government.
It’s separated from the rest of the city and only pumps into government buildings, like the DEA and FBI.”
That was a complete lie, but Flynn seemed to take the statement at face value, which was encouraging, but Sardar could tell he wasn’t sold on continuing. Yet.
Tusk asked, “Why do you want to dump it there?”
“I want to make a statement to the CIA. The other government agencies just happened to be along for the ride.”
Flynn raised his hands and said, “I don’t care what you want. No fucking way, man. Pay me for the truck and we’re done.”
“You have a problem attacking the government now? You killed a sheriff.”
“I got no issues fucking with the man. I do, however, have issues with being chased for causing a terrorist attack in my nation’s
capital. Stealing a truck and smuggling fentanyl is one thing. I know how that pressure from the law goes. What you’re talking
about is something else.”
“Nobody will know it’s you. That’s the whole point. Nobody will suspect you. And you make double.”
“Did you see 9/11 man? We didn’t send out the FBI after that. We invaded two fucking countries, bombing the shit out of everything
that moved. I don’t need that heat.”
Tusk said, “My name’s on the CDL for the truck. It won’t take long to figure that shit out.”
Sardar said, “What were you going to do before? After you gave me the truck?”
“Take your money and disappear. That’s easy when we’re talking about fentanyl and grand theft. Not so easy when we’re talking
about what you’re proposing.”
“So you dump the load, then take the truck somewhere else and leave it. Set it on fire or whatever. They won’t connect the
two, and you’ll have twice the money to disappear.”
“Only if we don’t get caught with our dicks in our hands pumping that shit into the water. That place has got to be full of
cameras and security.”
“Yes, the reservoir does, but not where I’m going to dump it. I’ve done the research. You pull up, drain the tanks, then drive
away. That’s it.”
Flynn stared at him for a minute, then said, “Give me a moment with my man here.”
Sardar nodded, and walked away, moving to the ropes separating the guests from the elephants. He waited for about six minutes, then felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and Flynn said, “You sure that water only goes to the government?”
“Yes, yes. Positive. After the terrorist attacks on 9/11 they created a special water supply to protect the government security
apparatus. They get protected water now, and you have—as you say—the chance to fuck with the man, and only the man. Like I said, I have no wish to harm civilians.”
Flynn nodded and said, “So the DEA, ATF, and FBI will get hit?”
Sardar nodded, and Flynn said, “We’ll do it. But you bring the payment with you. If you don’t have it, we’re driving away.”