25. The Package
The Package
The two patrol cops fell first. One was hit in the leg.
And the other in the arm. The hairless woman screamed and ran for cover behind a trash bin as her lover fled to his truck.
Nazim continued firing on the unmarked car parked in front of room seven.
And when he ran out of bullets, he reloaded, and Omar took over; the men fired in tandem, always ensuring that rounds were hitting targets downstream.
They were loud, yet precise. Amateurish in appearance but professional in action.
It was obvious to Belle they were former military personnel; she couldn’t return fire.
She could barely move. And the wounded cops were pinned down and helpless.
“What the hell is going on?” Belle said, drawing her sidearm.
She tucked herself further into the car’s crevice; hoping the engine block on the old car would protect her from the barrage.
The air grew heavy with the smell of burnt lead; she could taste it in her mouth.
And the burnt rubber as cars screeched by, with many of them being caught in the crossfire.
“I don’t know,” replied James. “Where the hell is our backup!”
“Shit! It’s them. They’re here for the hard drive, James,” Belle said.
Suddenly, a small, cylindrical black device fell right on James’s leg. He flinched.
“I’m hit!” James cried out. He pulled his leg in and turned himself into a smaller target when a bright flash erupted by him. It was blinding. And deafening. “Ah!”
“Shit! I can’t see,” Belle said. “It’s a flashbang.”
“We need help! We are under attack. I repeat, officer down!” yelled one of the patrol cops into his radio.
The four men advanced, covered by the hail of gunfire they unleashed, and headed straight for Belle.
One of the patrol officers returned fire but failed to hit anyone.
Wounded and quickly losing strength, the patrol cop remained by his partner.
Belle was several feet away, also huddled with her partner, taking cover from incoming fire.
At that moment, Nazim ran to Belle and emerged like an apparition from the side of the car.
She hesitated. Disoriented by the flashbang grenade, her gun remained at her side.
Nazim put the gun to James’ head and swiped at the bag.
She pulled back. He then pistol-whipped him and aimed the gun at her.
The bullets continued to fly as Omar emptied his magazine into the front office of the Paradise Motel.
Sparks erupted from the destroyed television and ninety’s era soda machine.
The burst cans fizzled out of the machine and onto the mold-filled carpet like a raging river.
“Come on! Let’s go,” Omar said. He unloaded the magazine on the motel doors and windows of several rooms up and down the motel, forcing all who peeked outside to take cover.
Pedestrians across the street ran for cover, and the residents nearby in their apartments rushed for cover behind whatever they could find.
Nazim, after a brief struggle, grabbed hold of the black bag from Belle and yanked it out of her hands.
In the distance, Belle could hear it, faintly, but growing louder.
The backup they called was approaching. But not before the four men made their escape with the black bag in their possession.
The two patrol cops watched helplessly as the men escaped.
“Belle! Are you hurt?” James said, rubbing his eyes. He held his head as if a great weight had fallen upon it.
“No. They missed,” Belle replied, focused on the men as they fled. She watched their car peel out of the parking space and head north without stopping and without lights; their vehicle vanished, blending into traffic, as tears poured out of her eyes. It burned.
“Where the hell did they get a military-grade flashbang from?” Belle said, kicking the ground in anger. “I couldn’t see anything. I felt him pull the bag. And I heard him, with his broken English, threaten your life. We need to go.”
“What!? Where! Wait!” James said, reaching out to Belle. He held her down against her objections.
“You can’t drive! You can barely see. And where the hell are you going to go from here? They got away!” James said, holding onto her. Belle squeezed her fists until they turned red and then white. A blinding anger had taken over her; she wasn’t thinking straight.
“The airport, James. They are going to escape! We need to head there now!” Belle said, shuffling on the ground. “Let me go!”
“No! We wait for backup. And for the paramedics. You need to get checked out,” James said, parting her hair to the side to check her eyes. “Oh man. Your eyes Belle. They’re irritated and tearful. You can barely keep them open. We have to get you checked out.”
Belle didn’t say anything else. She nodded with a solemn surrender that wasn’t like her. Belle, for the first time in a long time, felt overwhelmed; then a realization hit her harder than the flashbang. She needed help. She needed Alex.