The old guard
2303 Words
The news of Webb's arrest spread through Blackhaven like wildfire.
Within twenty-four hours, three men were found dead in the Docks. Two more disappeared from their homes in Iron District. A warehouse on Pier 8 burned to the ground. No witnesses. No suspects. No leads.
Miller called Adam at the garage.
“Webb's network is imploding. His lieutenants are fighting for control. Territory is up for grabs. We're seeing bodies every night.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stay out of it. Let us handle the cleanup.”
“You said that before. About Cindy. About Volkov. About Samuel. About Webb.”
“This is different. These aren't kingpins. These are rats fighting over scraps. They'll kill each other off. We just have to wait.”
“How many people will die while you wait?”
Miller didn't answer.
---
The first old guard to surface was a man named Silas Briggs.
He was seventy-three years old, with a face like cracked leather and hands that had strangled men. He'd run the Southside Serpents in the eighties, before Cindy's father took over. He'd been in prison for twenty years. Now he was out.
Adam heard about him from Nina.
“Briggs is meeting with the remnants of Webb's crew. He's offering protection. Leadership. A return to the old ways.”
“Old ways? The Serpents were animals under him.”
“They were organized. Profitable. Cindy's father had to kill three of his lieutenants before Briggs would step down.”
“And now he's back.”
“He's back. And he's not alone.”
---
Briggs had allies.
A woman named Mara Vance—Cindy's cousin, no relation to Micheal's family—had been running a small crew in The Cut. She was young, ambitious, ruthless. Rumor had it she'd killed her own brother to take control.
A man named Viktor Petrov had been Volkov's right hand. He'd escaped the FBI raids by hiding in a shipping container. He'd emerged three weeks ago, hungry for revenge.
And a ghost from Adam's past—a name he thought he'd buried.
Leo Cross's son.
His name was Leo Cross Jr. He was twenty-two years old, a mechanic like Adam, with his father's dead eyes and his mother's cruel smile. He'd been living in Florida, working at a chop shop, waiting for his moment.
Now his moment had come.
“He blames you for his father's death,” Nina said. “He's been training. Preparing. He wants to kill you himself.”
“Then let him come.”
“He won't come alone.”
---
Adam called a meeting.
The crew gathered in the basement of the garage—Sandra, Nina, Gus, Teresa. Leo was on speakerphone from Chicago. Micheal was on another line from Oregon.
“Old players are surfacing. Silas Briggs. Mara Vance. Viktor Petrov. Leo Cross Jr. They're consolidating power. If we don't stop them, they'll tear the city apart.”
“How do we stop them?” Gus asked. “We're not soldiers. We're mechanics.”
“We're whatever we need to be.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only one I have.”
Micheal spoke up. “I can be there in two days. My cousin owes me leave.”
“I'll be there tomorrow,” Leo said. “I'm not staying in Chicago while you fight alone.”
Nina stood up. “I can reach out to my old contacts. See who's willing to fight with us.”
“Be careful,” Adam said. “Some of those contacts might be working for Briggs.”
“I know how to spot a rat.”
---
Adam spent the next day preparing.
He cleaned his guns, checked his ammunition, sharpened his knives. He walked through the garage, touching the tools his father had used, the lifts where he'd spent so many hours.
Sandra found him in the office, staring at the wall of photographs.
“You're scared.”
“I'm cautious.”
“Same thing.”
“Maybe.”
She sat beside him. “We've been through worse. Cindy. Volkov. Samuel. Webb. This is just more of the same.”
“No. This is different. These people aren't trying to build an empire. They're trying to tear one down. They have nothing to lose.”
“Neither do we.”
“I have you. I have Leo. I have Nina. I have a life I don't want to lose.”
“Then don't lose it.”
---
The first attack came that night.
Adam was at the garage, working late on a transmission, when he heard glass break in the office.
He grabbed his gun, moved to the door.
Three men were inside, flashlights sweeping the room. They were dressed in black, their faces masked.
“Looking for something?” Adam asked.
They turned.
The first man raised a gun. Adam fired. The man fell.
The second man charged. Adam sidestepped, slammed his elbow into the man's neck. The man crumpled.
The third man ran.
Adam chased him out the back door, into the alley. The man was fast, but Adam knew these streets.
He tackled the man behind a dumpster, pinned him to the ground.
“Who sent you?”
“Go to hell.”
“I've been there. It's overcrowded.” Adam pressed his knee into the man's back. “Who sent you?”
“Briggs. Silas Briggs. He wants you dead.”
“Why?”
“You're in the way. You're a symbol. As long as you're alive, people won't follow him.”
Adam's jaw tightened. “Where is he?”
“I don't know. No one knows. He moves every night.”
“Then you're useless.”
Adam zip-tied the man's wrists and called Miller.
---
The police arrived within the hour.
Miller looked at the bodies, at the blood, at Adam.
“Three men. Armed. You're lucky to be alive.”
“It wasn't luck.”
“No. It was skill. But skill only takes you so far.”
“What do you want me to do? Hide?”
“I want you to let us protect you.”
“You couldn't protect Danny. You couldn't protect Vince. You couldn't protect Rex. I'll protect myself.”
---
The next morning, Adam visited Elena.
She was living in a small house on the edge of Iron District, not far from the memorial. Sofia was with her, finishing her nursing degree online.
Elena looked older, tired. The years of hiding had worn her down.
“I heard about Briggs,” she said. “He's dangerous. More dangerous than Cindy. He doesn't care about money or power. He cares about respect.”
“How do I stop him?”
“You can't. Not alone. You need allies. People who knew him. People who fought him.”
“Like who?”
“Like me.”
Adam stared at her. “You're retired.”
“I'm retired. But I'm not dead.”
“You have Sofia. You have a life.”
“I have a debt to pay. To Danny. To you. To all the people who died because I wasn't brave enough to fight sooner.”
“This isn't about bravery. This is about survival.”
“Same thing.”
---
Elena introduced Adam to a man named Marcus Cole.
No relation to the Cole who had worked for Cross. This Marcus Cole was older, gray-haired, with a cane and a limp. He'd been Briggs's lieutenant in the eighties. He'd turned against him, helped put him in prison.
“Briggs never forgot,” Cole said. “He's been waiting for this. Waiting to come back and settle old scores.”
“Can you help us find him?”
“I can try. But he's paranoid. He doesn't trust anyone. Not even his own people.”
“Everyone has a weakness.”
“Briggs's weakness is his son. David. He's in a nursing home, upstate. Dementia. Doesn't remember his own name. But Briggs visits him. Every month. Same day. Same time.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
---
Adam planned the ambush.
He, Nina, and Elena would stake out the nursing home. Leo would monitor the roads. Sandra would stay at the garage, coordinating.
Micheal arrived that afternoon, fresh off a plane from Oregon.
“You look like hell,” he said.
“You look like you haven't slept.”
“I slept on the plane. It wasn't comfortable.”
They hugged. Brief, fierce.
“Ready for this?” Micheal asked.
“No. But I'm going anyway.”
---
The nursing home was a gray stone building surrounded by trees.
Adam arrived early, parked across the street, watched the entrance. Nina was in a car behind him. Elena was inside, posing as a volunteer.
At 2 PM, a black sedan pulled into the parking lot.
Silas Briggs stepped out.
He was old, frail, leaning on a cane. But his eyes were sharp, scanning the lot, the building, the trees.
He walked inside.
Adam waited.
Ten minutes passed. Twenty.
Then Briggs came out, his face softer, his shoulders slumped.
Adam got out of the car.
“Silas Briggs.”
Briggs turned. His hand went to his coat.
“Don't,” Adam said. “I just want to talk.”
“You're Adam Kosta. The mechanic who thinks he's a king.”
“I'm not a king. I'm just someone who's tired of watching people die.”
“People die. That's the way of the world.”
“Not on my watch.”
Briggs laughed. It was a dry, brittle sound. “You think you can stop me? I've been doing this since before you were born. I've buried better men than you.”
“Maybe. But I'm still standing. And you're standing in a parking lot, talking to me, instead of hiding in your hole.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to leave Blackhaven. Take your people. Take your grudges. Go somewhere else.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I'll make you.”
Briggs studied him. “You've got courage. I'll give you that. But courage isn't enough. You need power. And you don't have it.”
“I have something better. I have people who trust me. People who will fight for me. People who believe in something other than money and fear.”
“Belief doesn't stop bullets.”
“No. But it stops armies.”
---
Briggs walked to his car.
“This isn't over, Kosta. We'll meet again.”
“I'm counting on it.”
The sedan drove away.
Adam stood in the parking lot, the cold wind biting his face.
Nina walked up beside him.
“That was bold.”
“That was stupid.”
“Same thing.”
“Did you get what we needed?”
“Elena planted a tracker on his car. Leo is following him now.”
“Good. Let's go.”
---
They tracked Briggs to a warehouse on the Docks.
Not one of the new ones. An old one, hidden behind a row of abandoned buildings.
Adam called Miller.
“I found Briggs. He's at the old shipping warehouse on Pier 4.”
“Don't move. I'm sending a team.”
“He'll be gone by the time you get here.”
“Then delay him.”
“I'm tired of delaying.”
Adam hung up.
He walked toward the warehouse.
---
The door was unlocked.
Adam stepped inside.
The warehouse was dark, filled with crates and shadows. A single light burned at the far end.
Briggs stood beneath it, a gun in his hand.
“I knew you'd come.”
“Then you knew you'd lose.”
“I never lose. I just retreat.”
“Not this time.”
Adam walked closer.
Briggs raised the gun. “Stop.”
“No.”
“I'll shoot.”
“Then shoot.”
Adam kept walking.
Briggs's hand shook. His finger tightened on the trigger.
Then he lowered the gun.
“You're not afraid of death.”
“I'm not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
“I've faced worse.”
Briggs set the gun on a crate. “What do you want?”
“I want you to surrender. I want you to tell the FBI everything. I want you to spend the rest of your life in a cell.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I leave you here. And I tell Miller where to find you. He'll come with his guns and his badges. And you'll go to prison anyway.”
“That's not a choice.”
“It's the only one I have.”
---
Briggs sat down on a crate.
He looked old, tired, defeated.
“You remind me of your father. Same stubbornness. Same foolishness.”
“My father is dead.”
“So am I. I just haven't stopped breathing yet.”
Adam picked up the gun, emptied the chambers, dropped it on the floor.
“It's over, Silas.”
“It's never over. Someone else will take my place. There's always someone.”
“Then I'll deal with them too.”
---
Miller arrived twenty minutes later.
He handcuffed Briggs, led him away.
“You did it,” Miller said.
“We did it.”
“The city owes you a debt.”
“The city can keep it.”
Adam walked out of the warehouse.
The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and red.
Sandra was waiting by the car.
“It's over.”
“For now.”
“That's what you always say.”
“Because it's always true.”
She took his hand.
They drove home.
- Writer
