Chapter Forty-Two #3
Chika looked just about ready to explode. “You lot are just like him. Never taking me seriously, and they ask me why I grew up with so much malice.”
Dog stepped up. “Okay, Daddy Issues, you got a problem, blow your brains out and go settle it in hell with Daddy Dearest; we don’t give a shit. You either drop your weapon or—”
More cars pulled in, drawing our attention, but staying clear away from people and the school. Men in black coveralls got out of them, guns in hand, pointed right at us.
Chika smiled, eyes coming to settle on me. “You’re done, Street.”
My grip on the gun tightened, gaze burning into Chika’s. “It seems like you have a death wish.”
“One that’s gonna get passed on to you and your man friend if you don’t drop your weapons and do as we say.”
“Man friend? Who says man friend?” Dog asked.
“I’m not on no jokes, fam!” Chika yelled like a psycho. “I’ll shoot him!”
“Nah, you’re a chicken; you can’t do it,” Dog taunted.
Chika angled his gun towards Dog and pulled the trigger; the sound of the bang was so sharp that the comm in my ear gave a piercing high pitch.
“Fuck!” Dog staggered back, the arm of his shirt torn from the graze of the bullet, blood seeping out of the wound. He glared at Chika. “Motherfucker! You shot me!”
Chika directed the gun to the back of Devil’s head again. “Try me, Bruv. Next one’s in his brain, no cap.”
Gritting my teeth hard, I gestured to Dog to drop his weapon while I slowly dropped mine.
Three men took the liberty of cuffing our hands in front of us, denying us free movement, and probably straining Dog’s wound, based on how he winced.
Chika pushed Devil to us, and Devil righted himself, turning to Chika with a question. “Why agree to help if you had your motive? Why stage your own kidnapping?”
Chika’s gaze fell on me, and he smirked. “Guess I picked up a lil’ somethin’ from Arturo, innit. Who don’t love a bit of dramatics?”
“Why bring us out here at all? Contacting us when you could have gotten all the pieces on your own?” Devil asked.
“Street,” Chika said, “shadows of Italy. Running around the world looking for the original painting. I gotta say, I was disappointed. You lot didn’t know shit about it.”
“Yet you told us.”
“The original ain’t even here, bruv,” he said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.
“I have spent years searchin’ for this shit.
To think Arturo wasn’t decent enough to let me in on the quest after years of ignoring me during his schemin’.
The gold, all that money, and them flash drives fucking belong to me. ”
“Daddy didn’t leave a will, so you decided to be delusional and make your own,” Dog egged him.
“Shut the fuck up, dickhead! He left the quest. He wanted me to find it.” His glare pinned on me. “Not you, Zahra. And not Marino.”
“You’ve been following us,” Devil noted.
“You lot have been the only ones to make real progress. I thought there would be something; maybe if I helped, I’d get a piece of that information too. But I was wrong. I will make sure none of you ever know shit. Because I won’t let it happen.”
I gritted my teeth. “I would think before acting if I were you. Measure your options. Know who rules the city you’re in.”
The man dared to laugh. “Oh, I know all right. Do I look scared?”
Devil’s gaze met mine, asking a silent question. I shook my head. He looked just about ready to go against my wishes anyway, but he held himself back.
“Turn around,” Chika demanded.
“Got a thing for ass, Sauce Boy?” Dog asked.
“Dog, quit it,” Milk snapped.
“Should we contact Angelo’s people? We didn’t exactly have a backup plan,” Upper asked.
“Don’t contact anyone,” I said as we turned around.
“Move,” Chika urged.
“We don’t know what he has planned,” Milk said.
“We’ve survived worse.”
“I don’t like this,” Devil seethed, and I looked over at him.
“Trust me.”
He shook his head, turning away from me as we walked towards the school bus in time to see two men in black jumping down from it and another man lying face down on the ground, fingers shaking. It was clear he was the bus driver.
No.
My footsteps faltered.
“I got a next-level plan for you, Street.”
“Why does he keep saying our name like that?” Dog asked.
We ignored him as we stopped in front of the bus.
“Get in. All three of you.”
We exchanged glances amongst ourselves before I looked back at Chika. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Get the fuck in!” Chika yelled.
With a grunt, Dog went in first, mindful of his arm, with a rough assist from one of the men holding us hostage.
“Ah shit,” Dog cursed.
Devil climbed in next, and I followed behind, seeing why Dog had cursed.
The bus was filled with children, scared, wide eyes staring right at us.
My head snapped towards Chika, who had a smug smile, taking two steps back from the bus. “What the fuck is this?” I seethed.
He didn’t answer, but he gestured to Devil. “You. Start up the engine, and drive.”
“With my cuffed hands?” Devil glared.
“Pretty sure you can pattern that, easy,” Chika said. “No stress, we tested. It works.”
With a flare in his nostrils, Devil got in the driver’s seat after stealing one glance at the children on the bus.
“What are you playing at? Let the kids go!” I yelled.
“It’s all part of the game, sweet.”
“Don’t fucking bring children into this, you bastard.”
He dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small remote. “There’s a bomb installed and attached to the bus, just there, on your right.”
My gaze flickered to the beeping device by the first passenger seat.
“Bro, what the fuck?” Dog bent to inspect it.
“It’s a very special bomb, you see.” He smiled.
“This isn’t funny, Chika.” My voice shook.
“You don’t drive, it goes boom; you drive, it counts and eventually goes off, but still gives you an hour’s worth of minutes to count your friggin’ blessings.”
“Let the kids go.”
“You stop driving, it goes off. You drive too slowly to preserve fuel, the time reads faster; you drive too fast to alert the authorities, it reads even faster. Either way, it’ll go off but will buy us enough time to be out of sight.”
“You’re fucking crazy bringing innocent children into this!”
“How else will I make you sweat … Faizan.”
“You motherfu—”
“I’d start driving now if I was you, fam!” Chika yelled at Devil. He clicked a button on the remote, and a beeping sound went off inside the bus. Cries of panic from the children, not more than ten to twelve years old, filled the bus.
I glanced at the bomb; the time was counting down rapidly, faster than a second at a time.
“Shit, Devil, drive!” Dog yelled.
“Fuck,” Devil cursed, stepping on the gas as one of the men slammed the bus door shut, leaving me staring at Chika’s smirking face while he raised his hand in a slow wave, and the bus started to move.
“Permission to contact Angelo’s people, Zahra; that shit doesn’t sound funny,” Upper said with an edge to his voice as the bus pulled into the road, past the car we brought to the scene.
“Don’t contact anyone.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Devil gritted out.
“What on God’s fucking earth do you suggest we do then?” Dog looked as angry as Devil sounded.
My gaze landed on the children. Scared eyes locked on me like they were also waiting for what I would say next.
I looked back at the bomb, the beeping going steady now.
“Devil drives. You try to talk to the kids without swearing at them. Upper, Milk, and I will play with the wires on that thing until it stops beeping, and we remain breathing afterward.”
“That doesn’t sound like a solid solution,” Dog said.
“You got anything better than contacting people who might not give a shit about the children?” I asked, glancing at him and Devil.
Silence reigned, and then I nodded.
“Awesome.” I looked back at the bomb. “We stay calm, and then we get to work.”