Tire Tracks and Spent Casings
A Gunslinger Girl Fanfic by MP5
Disclaimer: Gunslinger Girl is the property of Yu Aida. All trademarks featured herein are copyright their respective owners. Allison, Brian, as well as other original characters herein are property of MP5 unless otherwise noted. Kara Pagani and Michele Pagani are the property of the author Kiskaloo.
Chapter 3: Then and Now Part 2
The brisk autumn air swept through the desolate streets of the Morris Heights section in The Bronx. The weather was no deterrent, however, to Benito Rodriguez and his fellow Trinitarios, hanging out on a stoop, talking in the relative comfort and safety of their territory. In Morris Heights, the Trinitarios ruled the roost, and despite the NYPD's pitiful attempts to stop their growth and crimes, they now numbered in the thousands in New York alone. All of them wore lime green somewhere on their person; it was their gang colors, of which they were extremely proud. People in their territory who weren't involved with the gang knew better than to oppose them, since many of the Trinitarios knew who was who, and whether or not these people were a potential threat to the gang. Any informants were either intimidated of silenced entirely. Sometimes, such tasks involved the lives of children.
Benito idly surveyed the scene before him; a very gray and visually-unappealing street with many houses that had bars over their windows, some completely boarded up. The scene was commonplace for him day in and day out. Suddenly he caught sight of a strikingly attractive brunette Latina woman in low-rise jeans, sweatshirt, and hoisting a small satchel on her back saunter by his and his friends' place on the stoop as she exited the stairs to The El.
"Mira, una chica bonita." said Benito to his pals.
"Ella está fuera de su liga." replied one of them.
"No hay peligro en el intento, ¿no?" Benito shot back, jumping down from the stoop. He followed the girl until he cut in front of her. "How you doin, girl? Need some company? You lookin' muy solo." Benito opened upon his greeting to the young woman.
"No thanks, esé." replied the girl. "I don't associate myself with any cerdos." she replied.
"You callin' me a pig, bitch?" Benito shot back, offended and quick to anger as the girl walked past him. "Whatever. You probably a puta anyway."
"Tu madre es una puta, pendejo." the girl shot back, eliciting jeers from the other Trinitarios on the stoop. Benito quickly lost his temper.
"No bitch talks to me like that!" he said, pulling out a folding knife. "Now I'ma have to cut you before I fuck your pretty little brains out!"
"You can try, asshole." she challenged, daring him to come at her. With a lunge, Benito thrust his knife forward, but a simple sidestep caused him to miss entirely. The girl parried and re-routed the knife right into Benito's upper right thigh, and she twisted it once it penetrated the muscle under the skin. Benito yelled out in pain as he crumpled to the sidewalk, clutching his injured leg. His friends hopped off the stoop they were sitting on, and shattering beer bottles that were nearby, prepared to fight this new threat. Not hesitating, the girl quickly lunged towards one of them, catching one off- guard and disarming him. As his buddy went to embed his broken glass weapon in her torso, the girl used her now-unarmed opponent as a shield, allowing the beer bottle to go into his back before shoving him into the street where he lay writhing in agony. The remaining Trinitario was now shaking in fright. Benito and Nico were tough bastards—no one ever messed with them. Yet he had just seen them almost get wasted by one girl. If he had his piece, he could fight—but he left it at home, and this was the worst day to forget to carry.
"Better run, esé." said the girl. "I'll give you five seconds before I come after you. One..."
The remaining gang member started sprinting. He could lose this chica loca if he took advantage of that headstart, hell, it could've been a bluff. He ran towards the set's main hangout, where hopefully there would be more of the gang to help him out.
The girl took the advantage of the delay to yank the knife from Benito's thigh, a scream emanating from the man's throat before she delivered a powerful blow to his head that knocked him unconscious. She saw her prey flee around the corner, and she gave chase, Benito's knife folded in her palm. She began to gain on him roughly three blocks from where Benito and Nico lay injured, perhaps dead. As he got closer to the hideout, the Trinitario being chased called out to his friends.
"¡Ayúdame! Esta loca chica me va a matar!" the Trinitario called, drawing the attention of the others in the area. Other members of the gang came outside to see what was going on, and the girl quickly threw Benito's knife at her quarry, striking him in the back of his shin. As he crumpled, the other Trinitarios in the area went to descend upon the girl with whatever they could get their hands on. Knives, baseball bats, rocks, glass bottles, pipes, and eventually, some guns were all put into play. The girl went after those with guns first, quickly disarming them, even using a nearby opponent as a human shield when a single shot was let off.
The street echoed with the sounds of broken bones and wet-meat impacts as the girl went to work on her opponents, her blows raining like a thunder-god. Men much bigger and stronger than her were now keeled over, clutching broken noses, nursing injured groins, or laying unresponsive on the filthy pavement. The only stop to the slaughter was the sound of multiple firearms announcing their presence with metallic clicks, and the girl dropped her current opponent and raised her hands into the air. No one fired, unusual for a gang that just saw many of their comrades take a horrendous beatdown by a girl they could only assume was some kind of monster. One of the Trinitarios holding the girl at gunpoint grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back.
"If the boss didn't want to meet you, we'd have killed you, chica. Vamanos." ordered the girl's captor, shoving her into the backseat of a gloss black Lexus GS300. The car raced off a few blocks, the girl blindfolded but calm, before she was brought into a warehouse where she was unceremoniously plopped down in a wooden seat, flanked by armed Trinitarios packing shotguns and pistols. An important-looking gangbanger came to remove her blindfold, slowly and delicately, with civility that the others did not show. The girl, looking the gangbanger in the face with a thousand-yard stare, blinked, as if her eyelids were camera shutters. Then, the gangbanger, presumably the set leader, spoke as he sat down across from her.
"All right then. Who are you, niña, and why are you causing so much trouble in mi barrio?" he asked.
"Maria Salazar, jefe. And I want to join Los Trinitarios." answered the girl.
"Maria Salazar, huh? I'm Carlos Santiago. Look, we don't get too many recruits from just anywhere. Most of the soldiers with Los Trinitarios are family or friends. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you killed or turn you out." said the set leader.
"Because I need somewhere to belong." said Maria sarcastically. "That's what the shrinks be saying, right?"
"Very funny, girl, but it ain't enough. Got a better reason?"
"I'm probably the only girl willing to get jumped in if it comes to it. I ain't no puta."
"You think you G.I. Jane or somethin', chica?" asked another gang member near Carlos.
"What, scared I gonna kick you ass? I'll do it, too. Ask your boys a couple blocks away. I ain't no bitch, esé. I'm plenty bad enough to waste these two next to me if it means getting in."
"You know, getting sexed in would be a lot easier, Maria." said Carlos. "But since you insist, we'll see if you can roll with the men. How well you drive?"
"Like fuckin' Jeff Gordon, jefe. About the only thing I learned from my papa before he became a fucking boozehound."
"Spare the story, at least till you in the gang for real. You rolling on a drive-by tonight against some DDP fools hanging out near our turf. You down for this, girl?"
"You think I would've beat up your boys if I weren't?"
"Good attitude. Now get her out of here. Come back to where we let you off at 5:00. Don't be late."
Maria was once again blindfolded and shoved into the backseat of the Lexus that brought her in. She was dropped off where she had been picked up, only the area was now empty, a few bloodstains the only sign of an altercation. As the Lexus peeled away, Maria turned to walk back home.
Three blocks down, two blocks west, and another two blocks south, Maria entered a dilapidated apartment building and shut the door behind her. Climbing up two floors, she reached for her key to her apartment, unlocked her abode, and stepped inside. She came face-to-face with a brown-haired, green-eyed Caucasian man.
"Bienvenido a casa, Allison." he greeted with a small smile.
"Gracias, Brian." replied 'Maria', now reverting to her normal accent as Allison McDonnell. The advice and lessons of the Alessandro/Petra team back home proved invaluable now as Allison tried to infiltrate the Trinitarios. Removing her wig of springy, curled black hair wasn't much of an option at the moment, nor was removing her makeup that turned her normally Caucasian white skin into Latino mocha brown. In a few hours, she would be busy playing wheelman for a gang shooting, and nothing could afford to be out of place at the moment. Brian had set about allowing some small comfort for Allison, frying up some SPAM to a lightly crispy consistency and boiling some white rice for lunch/early dinner. Simple, probably quite salty and not the best food in the world, but Allison wasn't a picky eater. Brian had subjected her to out-of-norm survival training, and if it came to roasting insects or small rodents over a fire or eating live insects, Allison would do so with minimal hesitation. Showing this ability to her roommates elicited fascination, in a morbid "oh-dear-god-why-would-you-ever-eat-that-I-think-I'm-gonna-be-sick-*hurl*" sort of manner. From haute cuisine to peasant subsistence, Allison would eat it, regardless.
Now, as Brian placed the meaty and crisp slices of SPAM atop bowls full of steaming rice, Allison grabbed a plastic fork and dug into her own bowl.
"So what have you found out so far?" asked Brian, pushing rice onto his fork.
"Nothing truly new." replied Allison, tearing into a piece of SPAM. "They're going to have me drive for a hit on their rivals, DDP."
"Dominicans Don't Play, huh?" remarked Brian. "Strange. Aren't there a lot of Dominicans within the Trinitarios themselves?"
"That's what I thought, too." noted Allison. "I guess it's not so much a matter of racial makeup as it is turf."
"Isn't that always the case with gang warfare?"
"Well, hopefully they'll be pleased with my performance. Depends what car they give me, though."
"Don't expect anything fancy." warned Brian. "But remember the saying--'Drive like you stole it'--because they probably did."
About an hour later, as the sun began to set around 4:45, Allison prepared to leave for the meeting spot. As she was about to walk out the door, Brian held her up a little.
"Allison."
"Yeah?"
Brian walked up to her and hugged her warmly. Despite the makeup that darkened her skin tone, Allison's blush came through.
"Be careful out there, all right?"
"I will."
As soon as Allison turned and walked out the door, shutting the door behind her, she transformed into Maria Salazar once again.
****
"Hm. Not a bad choice, niños." commented Maria as she looked at tonight's chariot of death. It was a black 1995 Nissan Maxima, equipped with 17-inch wheels, a new exhaust, and little else. Vinyl patterns adorned the sides of the car in an effort to personalize it. Maria went to check the tires, a pleasantry that the other Trinitarios gathered there grew impatient with.
"Hey, hurry up, Maria! What the hell are you doin'?" snapped one of the shooters.
"Checking the tires, idiota. You want this to go down with us in one piece, you make damn sure the tires are good. We suffer a blowout while trying to run, the cops'll catch us, or we go home in coffee cans." Maria shot back.
"Whatever. Get it done, and quickly."
Maria quickly checked the tires with a pressure gauge she had for the occasion. Satisfied, she eased herself into the driver's seat and set up her position. The Trinitario next to her placed a Ruger P89DC 9mm pistol in her lap, the serial number filed off.
"You might be new to this thing, but everybody has to be strapped when we do a drive-by." said the gang member. "This one's on the house."
Maria pulled open her satchel and extracted a Kimber Custom TLE/RL II from it, handing back the Ruger.
"Keep your nine. I only roll with the four-five. At least when I try and smoke someone, they'll stay down."
"Where'd you get a four-five, anyway?" asked one of the shooters in the back of the Maxima.
"Mi Tío. He taught me how to shoot. It was a present from him, and he told me never to tell mi padre. He probably knew that he was laying hands on me." replied Maria.
"Smart uncle. Too bad he didn't see you getting into this."
"Enough talk. Let's go put these fools in the dirt."
Maria put the automatic gearbox into 'drive' and pulled away from the area, the shooter riding shotgun next to her pointing out which way to go. 15 minutes later, they had stopped just up the street from their objective.
"There they are." said Maria's guide, indicating the red and blue-clad DDP members up ahead.
"How we gonna do this?" asked Maria.
"Drive up, stop in front of them, dump on those vatos and then drive like hell. Easy enough, right? No talk, just cut loose on those fuckers."
Maria flicked the safety off on her Kimber and checked to make sure it was loaded. Placing the Maxima into gear, she floored it towards the target as the other shooters in the car got their windows down. She braked hard in front of the porch where the DDP members stood, thrust the muzzle of her Kimber out the window and started popping off rounds a split second before her 'comrades', armed with automatic weapons and a shotgun, opened fire as well. In the few seconds that elapsed since the first cartridge casings flew out the ejection ports of their weapons, the occupants of the Maxima had expended nearly fifty or so rounds gunning down the cluster of Dominicans Don't Play members. Maria brought her pistol back past the threshold of her window and sped off. As she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw a wailing mother carrying her stricken child out of the house they had just opened up upon. She knew who she hit, because she aimed-- and her fellow riders did not. She was under orders to remain in cover, and even do as necessary in order to do so, but she was repulsed by the reckless disregard for the lives of innocents and was saddened at the results of their recent action. She was disgusted at herself most of all for being an accomplice to a crime that had visited violence, however indirect, against an innocent child.
The group arrived at a Trinitarios hideout and quickly stashed the Maxima under wraps. As they walked away from the car, the three other shooters were euphoric over the destruction of their enemies. Only Maria wasn't saying anything. Alano, who had ridden in the front passenger's seat, tried to get her attention.
"Yo Maria, you did good back there, girl. You def'nitly got skill to hang with the guys on a drive-by. I never saw anyone pop so many DDP fools so fast!"
"Easy for you to say." said Maria coldly. "You don't care if you hit them or not."
"Man, what shit you talking about now?"
"I saw a kid being carried outside in his mom's arms as we drove away. It was from the house that we hit."
"So?"
"So, that means one of your bullets hit him. Do you hijos de puta understand yet?! You guys fucking shot a kid!"
"Not our problem, girl. We didn't see it happen, we ain't losin' sleep over it."
"And that's why it happened in the first place. You idiotas didn't bother to aim. At least when I fucking opened up, I made sure I hit what I meant to hit and only what I meant to hit! This is why people hate gangbangers! It's all because morons like you just spray and pray, with no thought of the consequences! It's why the police are so damn insistent on finding the smallest reason for arresting us! They'd leave us alone if we were just killing other gangs, but they come after us because stupid dipshits who can't aim end up harming someone's mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, brother, sister, son, or daughter!"
"You act like we need to have a conscience, Maria." said Alano. "Newsflash: we look out for number one, ok?"
Alano walked away nonchalantly, as did the passenger who brought a shotgun. The last participant in the drive-by, a stocky Dominican named Pepito, went up to Maria. Unlike the other two, he understood her feelings.
"I know where you coming from, Maria." said Pepito. "I was like you when I joined the Trinitarios. I don't like seeing kids get popped, but Alano is right. The streets is rough, girl. If you a 'banger, you don't have the luxury of thinking about others outside of the gang. Having a conscience is, how they say, problematic. Now you have an advantage in that you are really good at shooting. But unless you're gonna make time to teach the homies how to shoot like educated white folk do, they still gonna spray and pray, and they still gonna hurt other folks who just happen to be in the wrong place at the worst possible time. Better not to think about it and just keep your head on your shoulders."
----------
And over the following days, Maria heeded this advice as she joined the Trinitarios in their usual crimes-- she held her Kimber to the head of a frail old man who had seen other members of the gang mugging someone, she had severely injured a convenience store clerk as her fellow Trinitarios emptied out the cash register, and personally blew away two members of MS-13 that were unlucky enough to be alone on Trinitarios turf.
Trying to keep up this charade, however, was taking its toll on Allison. When she came back to the safehouse, she was drained, depressed, and in a terrible mood, no longer the sunny and talkative girl she was when she began this mission.
"I just want this to be over, Brian." said Allison one evening over a dinner of Rice-a-Roni. "I'm tired of hurting innocent people so that I can get into the gang. It doesn't feel right just helping these bastards get away with murder, robbery, and assault."
"You need to hang in there, Allison. You're getting closer to finding out where the drug operations are occurring."
"I don't know how much longer I can take of this. I want to break cover already and start beating the crap out of these guys—kill them, even—but if I do that, then I screw up the case Cousin Tommy worked so hard on."
"Did any of the Trinitarios say when you were going to be 'jumped in'?" asked Brian, thinking carefully.
"Tomorrow night, Carlos said. Apparently, they think I'm ready."
"There you go, Allison. Problem solved."
"What do you mean?"
"In a 'jumping in' ceremony, the initiate has to survive being beaten up by senior members of the gang for up to a minute, sometimes less. The initiate is allowed to fight back, but unless they know how to fight, they generally just curl up and protect themselves. You get my drift here? This is your chance to put on some hurt, release that pent-up frustration."
Allison understood what Brian had said and smiled a little. However, Brian quickly put a damper on her enthusiasm.
"But! You must avoid killing them. You can injure them to within an inch of their lives, but you must not set out to actually kill any of them. That will most certainly blow your cover, and since we're working with the police, that'll be harder to explain away. We have no access to cleanup teams here; we're on our own."
"Fine. I'll hold back a little bit."
"You need to hold back more than just a little bit, Allison. Your cybernetic implants make it possible to produce more force with less effort."
"I'll keep that in mind."
-------------
And so, the next evening, Maria was in the street in front of the Trinitarios' main 'base of operations' surrounded by at least fifteen hardcore members of the gang. Some of them carried blunt objects, others wore brass knuckles, still others brought their hands and feet.
The descent of red mist over Maria began with a single blow of a baseball bat to her stomach. The wind being knocked out of her was all it took for a switch inside her head to flip and unleash a fighting fury often found in caged and cornered animals. As other gang members moved in to get their licks in, Maria responded by taking her first assailant's weapon and savagely shattering one of his ribs, followed by a bone-breaking blow to the kneecaps. She then spun around to break the baseball bat over another attacker's head, at which point she simply continued using her fists and feet to deliver massive pain and suffering on those that dared to attack her. Noses, arms, fingers, legs, wrists, and ribcages all fell victim to the machine of furious destruction Maria had become. She was supposed to survive sixty seconds against an onslaught of brute force; her opponents were now the ones who struggled to survive thirty against her. Carlos let out a low whistle and clapped slowly as Maria stood amidst the fallen, her breathing quickened and predatory.
"Give me a thousand soldiers like you, and I could take over this entire state." said Carlos as he approached the female initiate.
"What's the matter, you too chicken to go after the entire east coast?" taunted Maria. Despite her fury, she kept her rapier wit, which, Carlos grudgingly admitted to himself, was amusing.
"La ambición puede ser problemático. Do you know the story of Julius Caesar?"
"'Beware the Ides of March' and all that? Sure I did. It's about the only book I ever paid attention to."
"Then you know that his ambition caused his inner circle to panic. And so they killed him. I don't want to make that mistake. One step at a time, and I will achieve that kind of power in due course."
"I never figured you for an intellectual, Carlos." commented Maria.
"Not all gangbangers have to be dumb street punks who don't know any better. That said, I'm self-educated." replied Carlos. "So I assume you want to know if you're in the gang or not?"
Maria nodded silently, awaiting the answer.
"Well, with that kind of ass-kicking power, you'd be of more use inside the gang than out of it. So welcome, Maria. You are the sole sister in our brotherhood, that which stands for Dios, Patria, y Libertad."
Carlos handed Maria a green bandanna that she dutifully wore around her neck.
"I'm having you put in work starting tomorrow. Meet me and the boys here around this time tomorrow. Bring your piece."
"No problem." said Maria. "I'm almost always carrying. I just had the restraint not to use it when they tried to jump me in."
"You would've tried to take it back from me?" said Carlos, handing Maria back her Kimber. "Even by force? You know, that would not reflect well on you."
"And I did not, because I respect you as the leader of the Morris Heights set. However, let us not focus on the 'What if', but the 'what now'."
"You will see the 'what now' tomorrow. In the meantime, go home and rest."
-----------------
"Madre de Dios!" exclaimed Maria, seeing the interior of a warehouse Carlos and two of his men had taken her to. The next day had arrived, and the three were now entering the Trinitarios' own crystal meth production facility. This was of a 'superlab' design, a facility capable of producing 90 pounds of the substance in 2-3 days. The drug was being made out of commonplace items that were on their own legal and safe to use but processed the way they were, became part of a potentially lethal substance: lithium, acetone, ammonia, battery acid, drain cleaner, camp stove fuel, starting fluid, freon, rubbing alcohol, and cold medicine, just to name a few. For safety reasons, everyone was at least wearing painter's masks to avoid breathing in the foul stench of the fumes from production of the crystal meth.
"Maria, this right here is our bread and butter. In two days, we can pretty much flood the streets with crystal, and it earns us more money than sticking up a 7-11." said Carlos. "I want you to be in charge of protecting it."
"Already?!" asked Maria, genuinely surprised.
"And why not?" responded Carlos. "I've seen your fighting ability. I was told how well you did when you went on that drive-by. There is no one I see who is more fit and aggressive enough for the job than you. You will of course, be well-compensated for your work."
"I am...honored, to accept this job." said Maria, bowing in deference to Carlos.
"You won't have to worry about the fumes as much, Maria." said Carlos. "You'll be outside in the fresh air watching for cops. Get some time in today; we're moving a big shipment out tomorrow."
"All it got is my .45. Is that enough?"
"Grab an AK or something from our gun closet." said Carlos. "Sometimes, it's not just cops that come round looking for trouble."
"Point taken."
Maria followed Carlos to the gun closet, where a plethora of illegal firearms composed primarily of AK-47's, MAC-11's, and Glock pistols filled the room. She quickly picked out an AK and fiddled about with it.
"I think I know how this works." she said, working the action and the fire selector. "How'd you get this thing full-auto?"
"We have ways." replied Carlos. "Get on the clock, then, Maria. Gotta put in work to earn your pay."
Maria quickly hustled out of the toxic-smelling meth lab with her AK in hand. Greedily, she breathed in what fresh air there was as she took in her surroundings. Checking quickly to make sure no other Trinitarios were around, she pulled out her cellphone and tapped out a text message to a certain phone number.
To: 212-555-4XXX
Subject: I'm in. Intel meeting tonight.
-------------
"So what have you got for us, Allison?" asked Tommy back at the safehouse. He, Brian, and Allison were now discussing the takedown of the meth lab that had eluded the 47th precinct for so long.
"Well, those reports of a lab are confirmed." replied Allison, sketching out the general layout of the location she had visited. "It's quite a large warehouse that holds a superlab setup inside capable of producing 90 pounds of product in 3 days. Santiago told me this himself, and he looked damn proud of the fact. Now then, most of the warehouse is dedicated to lab space. Fumes in there are nasty and toxic, and lots of chemicals around, as I'm sure your guys know. If you can draw them outside the warehouse, any chances of explosive accidents should drop significantly. But if you have to storm the place, watch out and have your men check their fire. A single spark, and the whole place could go up."
"I'll pass that on to the tactical teams." said Tommy. "What about armaments? These guys packing? They have a cache, what?"
"Santiago led me to a storeroom full of assorted weapons. Lots of things in full-auto, and very nasty buggers to boot. AK-47's, MAC-11's, and Glocks make up most of what's in there."
"Anything else we should know?" asked Tommy.
"Nothing more,Tommy." replied Allison.
"Do you have that alibi for her?" asked Brian.
"Yes, I do. It's already set up." affirmed Tommy. "Now, could I talk to you alone for a little while?"
Brian quickly motioned to Allison, and she set off to the small living room, eating dinner as she watched the local NBC affiliate's primetime lineup. Out in the hallway, Tommy confronted Brian with a serious expression.
"Is there something I should know about my new cousin?" asked Tommy. "Not that I don't appreciate the help, Brian, but she's way too skilled for a normal teenage girl. I didn't know what to do when I walked in here and she was field-stripping that Kimber she was carrying. I don't know about you, but here in New York, seeing any kid taking apart and putting back together a handgun like a pro sure as hell raises red flags. What's going on here, Brian?"
"I can't tell you that, Tommy." replied Brian, simply. He was expecting this, but not this soon.
"Why not? And don't give me any bullshit." said Tommy.
"Because I work for a part of the Italian government that does not take info leaks well. They want to operate in the black, and I'm going to help keep it that way. I'm sorry that I can't explain anything right now."
"What does that have to do with Allison?" asked Tommy.
"Everything, including how I came to adopt her. I can't say any more than that."
Tommy was going to argue, but then relented. "I see. But dammit, Brian, we may not be close, but we're family. Can I ask you sometime again to tell me everything?"
"I doubt it, Tommy. Even if it's family I talk to, it would become a liability. The agency I work for doesn't like info getting out about them and their operations."
"What the hell kind of Agency do you work for?"
"Italian Intelligence. Can't be more specific."
"Playing this awfully close to the chest, aren't you?" commented Tommy. "What about Allison?"
"What about her?"
"you showed me that she can take care of herself, but even so, she'll be the only girl in a meth lab full of scumbag gangbangers. I'm worried for her safety. They have way more guns than she does, and they might hold her hostage."
"Tommy, a second ago, you were more concerned about her having that gun. If she can clean it like a pro, how do you think she can shoot?"
"Which brings me to only more questions. I want to know what else you're hiding from me."
"You know I can't tell you that, Tommy" said Brian. "I'm sorry I lied to you. The part about Allison being my adopted sister, that's true. I wouldn't yank your chain with some random kid off the street. But other than that, I can't tell you the entire truth because it might mean compromising the agency I work for. So this means I will have to keep lying to you, or you stop prying, at least for now. I need you to trust both me and Allison, even though it seems like we won't do the same in return."
"And therein lies the conundrum, but I'll have to live with it. I'm not doing this op with much attention to the normal playbook, either. Realistically, I could get fired, maybe even go to jail for sending Allison in, but we would never be able to get this far without her."
"Looks like we both have our skeletons in the closet, eh?"
"Specialty of the McDonnell Cousins."
------------------
At the lab the next day, Maria stood guard outside at the loading dock at the warehouse, her thumb playing with the firing selector on the AK she had in her hands. Whether out of nervousness or boredom, she would be here to help ensure that loading of the product to be distributed went smoothly, with no interruptions, whether from police or gangs. Her attention was drawn by the distinct sound of several van engines coming closer, intermingled with the sound of some motorbikes. Maria flicked the fire selector to fully automatic as the vans backed in, should any surprises occur. She nodded to her two nearby associates, Enrique and Ricardo, and they stood watch while she strode inside the lab to find Carlos. She found him near the 'production floor' and quickly made contact.
"Jefe, the movers are here. Do we start loading?"
"Set them to it, Maria. Make sure you help them."
Maria dashed back out to the loading dock and nodded again to Enrique and Ricardo. They put their weapons away to help start loading as other Trinitarios started lmoving carts of crystal meth from the lab to the loading dock. As they began loading, Maria brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, a calculated, pre-ordained gesture whose true meaning was understood by Tommy McDonnell, manning a pair of binoculars 700 feet from the scene.
"All units, mobilize in thirty seconds."
A chatter of mic keyings acknowledged the message. As hidden police officers and members of NYPD SWAT got ready to spring their trap, more crystal meth was loaded aboard the vans, beginning to lower with the increasing weight of the products. Maria pulled out a red hair tie and used it to keep her curly locks out of her face as she stooped down to load bags of the meth. They were almost done loading when an NYPD helicopter came thundering in from the northwest, and the area exploded in police sirens as gang members began to react. Loudspeakers on the helicopter belted out an order to exit the warehouse in surrender, broadcasting the message in both English and Spanish. As was the case, however, the situation quickly became a gunfight. What was not expected was what would happen as Maria turned her AK-47 on the Trinitarios nearby. With the efficiency of a machine, she mowed them down with aimed bursts to the head, quickly emptying her weapon and withdrawing inside the warehouse as any survivors were quickly picked up by incoming NYPD.
As the scene inside the warehouse devolved into chaos, Maria drew her Kimber and hastily arranged evacuation for Carlos. She then ascended the stairs to his office in the warehouse, only to be met by the muzzle of Santiago's .44 Magnum Desert Eagle. And it was aimed at her.
"I am disappointed in you, Maria." said Carlos, not taking his eyes off her. "I am amazed that you had me fooled for so long. You got me to trust you honestly. A credit to your skills then, Maria—if that is even your real name."
"My real name is none of your business. What is, is offering you two ways out of this mess—a body bag, or handcuffs. There is no third option."
"Then I will make one. Goodbye, Maria, you traitorous whore."
Before Maria could bring up her Kimber, three consecutive rounds of .44 Magnum lodged themselves in her belly, and she crumpled limply with their impact, laying motionless on the floor. About to administer a fourth shot to her head just to be sure, Carlos was interrupted by one of his bodyguards, ready to usher him out for his own safety. One of the bodyguards saw Maria's body on the floor.
"Jefe, what happened to Maria?!"
"She was a fucking badge. She played us like goddamned pianos all this time! We have to go!"
Carlos and his bodyguard were quickly out of the room. Maria's body lay lifeless a few seconds more, then she stirred with a groan, her left hand reached up to pull off the wig of black hair, revealing brunette beneath. Gone was the latina's normal speech, replaced by Allison's Essex accent.
"Three shots... Yeah, I'm killing that wanker now."
Allison got to her feet and saw Carlos and his guards making their way towards his Lexus, prompting Allison to go through the window after them. In a shower of glass and debris, she landed on the sheet metal awning and leaped from there onto the roof of the Lexus. Before she could open fire, the sudden acceleration rolled her off the vehicle. Brian and Tommy came running to her aid, but she made it clear she was all right and was focused on chasing Santiago.
"Are there any cruisers available?" aksed Allison.
"We'll take mine." said Tommy, running to his unmarked Crown Victoria, fishing out an AR-15 from the trunk as Allison slid into the driver's seat.
"You have your license?"
"In Italy, yes. Now buckle up and hang on."
No sooner had the two adults clicked their seatbelts in than when Allison shifted the gear lever into drive and floored the gas pedal as the large sedan leapt out of its parking space, quickly latching onto the heels of Santiago's escaping Lexus. As their chase spilled out onto University Avenue, bullets were soon being traded between the two cars. Their speeds were quickly going upwards of 70mph on city streets, and had it not been for the siren on the Crown Vic, Allison would have a much harder time negotiating traffic as she hounded the Lexus. Expertly following it in its slipstream, she was soon bumper-to-bumper, and aiming her Kimber out the window, shot out the left-rear tire and nudged the same corner of the Lexus, performing a PIT maneuver. As the Lexus slewed around, and knowing Carlos was in the center rear seat flanked by his bodyguards, Allison opened fire with her Kimber, placing 4 well-placed .45ACP slugs through the illegally-tinted windshield and windows of the Lexus. Each shot found every head except for Santiago's, and before the car even stopped, his men were all dead around him. Allison pulled in the Crown Victoria close as Tommy leapt out, AR-15 trained on the immobilized Lexus. Allison and Brian followed, their own weapons drawn as they surrounded the vehicle. Allison rushed to the left-rear passenger door where Tommy was positioned, and yanked the door clean off its hinges, revealing a dazed Carlos Santiago inside. Allison snatched his unsecured form out of the car and onto the pavement as other police units arrived on the scene for containment, and made way for the ambulance that was arriving on-scene. Allison finally found time to relax as she sat on the hood of Tommy's Crown Victoria, checking her weapon before safing and holstering it. She then peeled off her sweat-soaked body armor, and felt an ache in her stomach area, no doubt a lingering result of the .44 magnum rounds she took at close range.
"You all right, Allison?" asked Brian, bringing her a Coke from a nearby vending machine.
"Kinda aches a little, but I should be okay. How'd I do?"
"You did excellent, Allison. You just helped shut down an entire set of a a very large gang. No small feat for an 17-year-old from Rome."
"You have to remember, too, that I'm no ordinary 17-year-old." quipped Allison, flexing a bicep, eliciting a smile from Brian. "So where do we go from here? My field trial is over, isn't it?"
"That it is. Look, Section 2 thinks we have a couple more days before we'll be done, so I think we should spend some family time together with cousin Tommy."
"What about the CSI unit here? I won't have to testify in court, won't I?"
"Not if your cousin has things well in hand. I think these CSI blokes are his mates in 47th Precinct. They have an alibi for you already."
"That's good. Because I think I would like to see more of New York while we're here."
And so, the three McDonnells found time to tour New York City, visiting all the major sights, like the Statue of Liberty, the Metropolitan Museum, Central Park, Times Square, and so on. Allison and Brian capped off their visit when Tommy brought them to Giants Stadium to see the Halloween game against the Washington Redskins, an introduction to American football that made Allison a new fan of the sport.
As Brian finished up the paperwork, he glanced again to the test track. Allison and Kara were still creating tire smoke with the AE86 and the Gallardo. With a smile, he picked up the keys to his RS6 and went out the door.
Minutes later, Brian added the smell of scorched Pirellis to the already building haze as he followed Allison and Kara in their sideways shenanigans.