“I have confidence in your ability to defuse the situation. After all, you seem more than capable of manipulating people when needed,” I said, eyeing the far end of Domingo’s building.
Anna looked at the dome-shaped security cameras mounted to the exterior. I peered over my shoulder, searching for the threats stalking us from behind.
“All right. Here we go.” Anna cut in front of me, heading for the gunmetal-steel door next to the large roll-up door. I flanked her, keeping a foot or so behind. I scanned over the nearby streets, buildings, and walkways as she pounded her fist against the exterior of the exit.
Anna glanced up at the camera over the doorway, then waited a moment.
“You’re sure he’d have someone close by that could hear that?” I asked, watching for the door to open.
“I don’t know.”
“Is there another way inside we could try?”
Anna hammered the door a bit harder, stepped back, then looked at me. “I know of a few other ways inside, but again, I’d rather not sneak in if we don’t have to. That’ll be a red flag for sure, and it won’t matter what we say because he’ll more than likely kill us.”
A few seconds passed without any response at the door. I grew leery of just standing on the sidewalk, scanning the area around us. I peered down the sidewalk again for McCone’s goons, but didn’t spot their black-tactical garb shuffling in the falling ash. “We need to do something here. Where’s—”
A metal plate inside the door slid back. Blackness loomed beyond the opening. Anna moved away from the door and stood at my side. My muscles tensed, ready for whatever waited for us on the other side.
“We’re here to speak with Domingo,” Anna said, at the dark void.
“Get lost. Now,” the deep, gruff voice said.
Anna stepped closer to the door.
I caught a sliver of a barrel materializing from the gap, pointing at her head. I reached for her arm.
“Tell him Anna is here to speak with him.” Anna pulled the hood of her coat back and moved her arm away from my hand. “I’m not leaving until I speak with him.”
The barrel of the gun retreated into the depths of the building. The steel plate slammed shut.
“Shit. What does that mean?” I asked, shifting my weight between my legs.
“Just hold on.”
The lock to the door clicked, then the door opened. Anna maintained her position near the entrance to the building.
Two armed men emerged from the darkness of the building with masks covering their faces and AKs shouldered. One flanked Anna, training the barrel of the assault rifle at her head while the other closed on me.
“At least they haven’t shot us yet. I consider that a win,” I said, looking at the smaller, heavyset man standing next to me.
“I’m a business associate of Domingo’s,” Anna said, looking at the armed guard near her.
He grabbed a handful of her coat and forced her inside. She didn’t resist.
The barrel of the AK poked my side. The armed guard flanking me shoved my shoulder, pushing me through the doorway.
The overcast sky and falling ash gave way to darkness. Anna stood in the murk with multiple black-clad figures before her. Their flashlights trained at her, then me.
The beams hit our faces, blinding us. I squinted, lifted my hand, then looked away.
The door slammed shut. The shadowy figures lowered the lights toward the floor, but kept their weapons deadlocked on us.
I studied the three men, watching their every move. They stood at the ready with rifles trained at our chests.
The two masked men who brought us inside flanked both Anna and myself. They patted us down, checking for any weapons.
“We’re not armed,” Anna said to the guard running his hand down the length of her leg.
Footfalls echoed through the space, closing in from behind the line of armed guards. My mind worked, formulating some sort of counter offensive if things went sideways. Going for their weapons would be risky, but I felt confident that between us, we could manage without perishing if push came to shove.
“I’m here to speak with Domingo,” Anna said, raising her voice. “Tell him—”
The guard standing near Anna rammed the buttstock of his AK into the side of her skull, shutting her up. She stumbled toward me, palming the side of her face, then shook her head. I reached for her arm.
The heavyset guard grabbed a handful of my coat and jerked me back. I turned and punched him in the face. My knuckles hit the dense plastic of his mask, sending him back on his heels. He shook off the blow and trained his AK at my forehead.
“Lawson, stand down, now,” Anna said.
“Stand down?” I asked, perplexed.
“Just do it. It’s fine,” she replied, standing up straight.
I hesitated for a moment, keeping my hands balled into fists and up in front of me. I didn’t like her being assaulted, but she knew these people and must have had some sort of plan.
I backed off the heavyset guard, then stood at ease. He kicked the back of my leg, sending me to the floor. My hands hit the concrete. The muzzle pressed against the back of my skull. I took a knee and raised my hands.
“So, what now?” I asked, staring up at the line of men ready to fire on us.
A taller, shadowy figure moved behind the wall of men, then skirted past them. He clapped his hands, looking at Anna, then over to me. His black jacket was unzipped. I caught a brief glimpse of the heater nestled in the waistband of his slacks.
The tops of his hands had tattoos that vanished under the sleeve of the coat he had on. He stopped, then stood between us with his hands resting on his
