The Gray Ghost (Fargo Adventures 10)

They’d been set up. Herded down the catwalk into a trap.

Sam, gun drawn, moved Remi toward the garbage cans lining the gate. The man from the catwalk jumped him, knocking Sam’s gun from his hand. Remi went after the weapon as the second man launched himself at Sam. Sam threw a right hook and staggered backward, hitting one of the garbage pails, then sinking to his knees.

Remi had edged her way near Sam’s gun when the third man’s shadow suddenly appeared on the ground in front of her, the gun he held evident. “Don’t even try it,” he said.

She lifted both hands, backing away.

Sam looked over at her.

“Fargo!” she warned, as the second man moved in. Too late, he kicked Sam in the side. Sam doubled over. He caught himself on a garbage can, struggling to stand upright.

“Get him, boys,” the gunman said, his expression victorious.

One of the men reached for him, but Sam dropped his shoulder, swinging the garbage can. It struck the first attacker, knocking him against the second. As Sam pushed them into the gunman, Remi knocked over a full can, rolled it across the cobblestones, garbage spilling out. One of the men stepped in the trash, lost his footing, bringing the other man down with him. Remi dove for Sam’s revolver and fired, nicking the gunman’s arm. He fell back against the garbage can, landing in a heap atop the other two men.

“Police!” someone shouted, as the gate rattled behind them.

Remi turned to see the security guard standing on the other side of the slatted fence and she ran over, pulled the chain, allowing him to open the gate. The three men scrambled to their feet, the garbage can rattling as they kicked it away, then raced down the alley.

“Are you okay?” the guard asked.

Remi nodded, as Sam moved next to her, she casually taking his gun and tucking it away so it wouldn’t be seen. Neither of them were allowed to carry in this country and having to explain why they were in possession of a firearm would tie them up for hours. “How’d you know we were in trouble?”

“Heard the commotion from the loading dock. Followed by the gunshot . . .” He gave them both a good once-over. “No one hurt?”

They shook their h

eads, Sam saying, “They missed us. Are the police on the way?”

The guard nodded. “Do me a favor. Don’t mention I said I was the police. We’re not supposed to do that. Just thought it might speed things along.”

“It worked,” Remi said, as Sam examined the chain-link gate closer.

“Fire access,” the guard said. “Fire Department keeps a key.”

Sam pulled the chain from the fence. “I guess we know why no one saw the truck.”

The security guard took the chain and lock from Sam, examining the freshly cut link. “You’d think they might’ve noticed this.”

“Not at first glance,” Sam said. He nodded at one of the still-standing garbage cans. “The car thieves cut the lock, moved the cans, replacing everything once the truck drove out.”

“You think that’s why those men attacked you? Seems strange they’d be watching for that long.”

“Who knows?” Sam said, though Remi was sure he had a fair idea. Considering that someone had been following Oliver and his uncle since Pebble Beach, and on the train here, it stood to reason they were waiting to see what Oliver might do once the car was stolen. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate you letting them know how the car was stolen. And we’d appreciate being left out of the matter. Any chance we can leave this in your hands?”

The guard eyed the lock, the dented cans. “Seeing as how no one was hurt, don’t see why not.”

The gunman certainly wasn’t going to report his injury. Sam left his business card with the guard. “In case there’re any problems. But if you can do this without our involvement, we’d appreciate it.”

Sam took one last look down the alley, then he and Remi left through the open gate, back toward the convention center. “We better look for Oliver and make sure he’s okay. The last thing we need is to have him turn up missing, too.”

13

Arthur Oren paced his office, waiting for word that the car was safely on its way. Finally, the phone on his desk rang, and he picked it up when he saw Colton’s number on the caller ID. “You have news?”

“Everything went as planned. The car is safely on its way back to Manchester.”

“Good, good. How long until you start the next phase?”