Oh boy.
I rolled over a couple curbs and took out a mailbox, but I kept going.
“Cripes,” Delvina said. “You’re the worst driver I’ve ever seen.”
Obviously, he’d never driven with Grandma. Considering I couldn’t see for shit and my hands were cuffed, I thought I was doing an okay job. I didn’t mow down the crossing guard, and I’d stopped for most of the lights.
“Where are we going?” Delvina wanted to know.
“It’s on the next block. It’s the narrow building with the underground garage.”
I crept down the street and eased the nose of the armored truck up to the garage security gate.
“Now what?” Delvina asked.
Now I was supposed to flash my key card, but my key card was in my purse and my purse was in the Buick.
“I forgot about the security gate,” I said.
Delvina put the truck in reverse. “Back it up a couple feet.”
I slowly moved the truck back.
Delvina put the truck in drive. “Now ram the gate.”
“What? Are you crazy? I’m not going to ram the gate. It’s not like it’s plywood.”
“This is a armored truck, for crissake. It’s built like a tank.”
Delvina leaned forward, mashed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the truck surged into the gate. There was a lot of noise and sparks and the gate buckled, snapping off its hinges.
With the exception of the private apartments, every inch of Rangeman is monitored, including the pavement outside the gate. When I decided to bring Delvina to Rangeman, I hadn’t counted on ramming the gate. Now I was worried about not only getting shot by Delvina but by Ranger’s Merry Men.
Snuggy and Doug were backed into a corner. Snuggy’s eyes were wide, and Doug’s eyes were narrowed. Delvina lumbered from the truck with the shotgun still leveled on me and ordered me to get out. I swung down just as Tank and Hal stepped out of the stairwell. They looked at me in cuffs, and they looked at Delvina with the shotgun, and the expression in their eyes was oh shit! The elevator doors opened and two more Rangeman guys stepped out with guns drawn.
Delvina opened his raincoat. “See this?” he said. “I’m wired to explode. I’m loaded with plastique. Shoot me, and this whole building goes. So drop your guns.”
Everyone threw their guns on the floor, and Delvina looked around. “Where is he?”
“Who?” I asked.
“You know who. Diesel.”
“He isn’t here,” Snuggy said. “Why have you got aluminum foil on your head?”
“It’s so the horse don’t talk to me.”
Snuggy looked up at Doug. “You talk to him?”
Doug sort of shrugged. Or maybe it was just a muscle twitch in his shoulder.
“This isn’t working out,” Delvina said to me, “and I’m getting real agitated. Every time you get involved in my business, it turns into a cluster fuck. I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna shoot you. And then I’m gonna shoot the horse. And then I’m gonna shoot all these guys in black. And then I’m gonna get the hell out of town.” He scratched at his arm and at his neck. “Look at me. I’m itching again. It’s the damn rash. I need more medicine.”
“You can’t shoot all of us with that shotgun,” I said. “You can only shoot one of us.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna shoot you with the shotgun. Then I’m gonna shoot everyone else with the Glock I got shoved in my pants.”
“Ranger’s gonna hate this,” Tank said. “Better to get shot than to have to explain the gate. Bad enough I got a horse that smells like his shower gel.”