Ex Meridian (Nothing Special 7)

Both men spun around at the same time. The passenger’s shocked, “What the fuck?” was cut off by the butt of Meridian’s gun. The man’s head snapped back towards the window as he hit him three more times in rapid succession before the bastard even had a chance to raise a hand in defense. He was alive but knocked out, slumped against the window and bleeding from his temple.

“Shit!” the driver yelled, glancing in the rearview mirror, then reaching into his waistband way too fucking late.

Meridian pointed his gun at his reflection in the mirror and the single silent pop sent glass shattering across the dashboard and front seat. His voice was casual and smooth as if he was merely having conversation. “Don’t try to look at me. The next bullet will be in your shoulder if you don’t do exactly as I say. Nod. Don’t speak, if you understand.”

The man held his hands up and nodded jerkily. He kept darting his gaze to his unconscious friend, perhaps wondering if he’d meet the same fate.

“Turn on the headlights and follow the SUV in front of you.”

“What SUV?” the driver asked angrily. He had the look of death in his eyes as he vibrated in his seat, and Meridian knew this guy was going to seize the first opportunity he could to get the upper hand.

Meridian pushed the hot tip of his silencer against the driver’s clenched jaw. “That SUV,” he answered.

Slade’s Navigator came into view. The driver eased his Mercedes up behind the large vehicle, Slade keeping them at the speed limit, then picking up the pace once they got out of the neighborhood and onto the main road. He couldn’t see Ex through the black tinted windows but he could feel those steely eyes on him.

Meridian sat back, not wanting to draw attention as they got onto the interstate. “My gun is pointed at your back. You do anything stupid and I’m gonna put a bullet in your appendix. Then still make you drive.”

“Fuck me,” the man whispered. He drove steady, not doing anything to piss him off until Slade turned onto a dark road that had multiple No Dumping signs posted. The driver’s dark skin turned ashen, and his foot eased off the accelerator the murkier the area got. “Come on, man.”

“Keep driving,” Meridian snarled.

Slade stopped at a small clearing that was littered with garbage bags, wood, building materials, scrap metal, tires and a whole bunch of other shit to stack on top of a couple of bodies.

Meridian put the serious end of his forty-five against the back of the driver’s head. “Put the car in park and lower the window,” Meridian instructed then waited as his orders were followed. “Now kill the engine and toss your keys out.”

“Shit,” the driver spat.

“Do it. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

The man reached into his pants pocket and took out a key chain with a few keys attached and a fob with the Mercedes emblem on the back. He tossed it out the window and it landed in a pile of debris a few feet away from them.

“Get out and stand in front of the car. You try anything and I promise you’ll regret it,” Meridian said.

The driver exited, continuing to keep his hands at his sides. Meridian got out and opened the front door, making sure to keep the driver in his peripheral. He grabbed the slowly rousing passenger by his collar and dragged him to the front of the car and let his body drop like a sack of cement to the filthy ground. The driver took a step towards him and Meridian snapped his arm up and pulled the trigger; executing a flawless shot to the kneecap.

The driver’s strangled cry was the perfect crescendo following the sweet whisper of his gun’s hollow point bullet firing through the silencer. The driver fell on all fours, his face twisted in agony. He grunted and hissed but the pain must’ve been too much for him to form words.

“I said, don’t try anything.” Meridian lowered his arm.

“What the fuck do you want, man? Money? Drugs?” the driver snapped.

“Do I look like a fuckin’ thief to you?” Meridian frowned, motioning at the expensive silencer on his sophisticated weapon. “I want information.”

“Like what?” the man yelled. He was sitting on his ass with his injured leg out in front of him.

“Like what were your orders tonight, and who gave them?” Ex asked while walking across the short distance between the vehicles, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.

Meridian had heard Ex interrogate hundreds of men since they’d been together and each time the composure he displayed when he threatened, tortured, or killed for their country, fascinated him. How detached and ruthless he could be. But, this time was different. Ex sounded as if what he was about to do would give him great pleasure. Meridian knew there was no sweeter victory than getting revenge. Now, watching his partner come at these men with unabashed anger in his eyes and a death-maker in his right hand, it all touched a troubled place inside that he’d long forgotten.