The van pulls up, and I open the back doors and jump in. I’ve shed my suit for jeans and a hoodie over a t-shirt.

Dash and Tiger are both sitting in the back of the van.

Dash glares at me.

Tiger nods his head. “Hey, man.”

“Hey.”

Tiger used to have a crazy mohawk back when we ran together, but now he’s just bald. His eyes are still crazy, though.

“You really gonna’ pay me three million, man?” Tiger says. “I’m fucking poor. I’d do it for one million, but Stav says you’re fucking rich!”

Stav laughs nervously from the driver’s seat.

“Fucking shit, Stav,” I say.

“Yeah, Tiger, it might take me a bit longer to get the extra money, but I got you.”

“I’m just Hu now,” he says. “It’s, like, my real name. No one calls me Tiger now.”

I roll my eyes. “Alright, Stav, I’ll never send you to negotiate for me again.”

Stav laughs. “I’m retiring after this, I don’t gotta’ worry about future jobs.”

“You better make this the best job you’ve ever done,” I say, eyeing Tiger, and then raising my voice for Stav. “This woman we’re rescuing is...she’s the one, you guys got it?”

Dash rolls his eyes. “Some fucking jailbait he picked up at a club, and she’s the one. Also his fucking stepdaughter.”

“Damn, man,” Tiger says. “That’s kind of fucked. I like it.”

“It’s a fake marriage,” I say. “It’s complicated, alright? Now give me a gun.”

Tiger reaches into a big duffel bag. “You want like, a revolver? Glock?”

“Glock,” I say.

“Cool,” Tiger says. “I’ll use the revolver.”

He hands me the black pistol. I squeeze the grip. The molded polymer fits into my hand like a fucking glove. One I haven’t worn in over a decade.

“This shit is pretty cool,” Tiger says, spinning the chamber of his chrome revolver. “I just been fishing on some asshole’s boat. He don’t pay very well, but I can sleep on the boat. Now I’m gonna’ be fucking rich, and I got a cool gun. It’s my lucky day.”

“You could have had a cool gun on the fishing boat,” Stav says.

“Nah,” Tiger says. “You don’t need a gun to catch fish. Now I need the gun…” He points the gun at Dash, “to shoot assholes.”

Dash jumps off the seat and out of the way. Tiger laughs.

I try to control my breathing. These guys used to be the fucking best and most trustworthy people in my crew. Now one runs a kebab shop and the other lives on a rusty fishing boat. I’m putting Elise’s life partially in their hands.

Dash starts thumbing through all the documents Stav gave him. “This shit looks pretty legit. Why’d you have to make my name ‘Dick,’ though?”

Stav laughs. “It felt like it suited you.”

“It’s a shit name,” Dash says.

“Sorry, dude,” Tiger says. “I think Dash is maybe the worst name I ever heard. It’s a really terrible name. And my name is Hu. You know how confusing that gets? Still better than fucking ‘Dash.’”

“How far out are we?” I ask Stav.

“Uh,” he says. “Like two miles.”

“Stop a mile out,” I say.

“You’re paranoid,” Dash says. “Gideon only has one guy watching her.”

“So you say,” Tiger says.

“Gideon isn’t the fucking kingpin,” Dash says. “He doesn’t have like thirty guys on his payroll. You think he’d have bothered to use me if he did?”

I scoff. “That’s a good point, but we aren’t taking any chances. Tiger--Hu--and I are going to head to the warehouse on foot. Stav, you stay in the van with Dash. Keep a gun pointed between his eyes the whole time we are gone.”

“My pleasure,” Stav says.

“You’re gonna’ let me go, though,” Dash says.

“You know how much fucking money this fake I.D. shit costs?” Stav asks, pointing the gun at Dash. “You think we’d bother expending resources like this if we was just gonna’ off you? Look at that fucking hologram on your passport! That shit is so legit! If I were just making some bullshit to make you feel better, there wouldn’t be no fucking eagle hologram.”

Dash sighs. “I’m betting my life on a fucking eagle hologram.”

“Don’t do stupid, scummy shit, Dash,” I say, cocking my gun. “And you won’t end up in the back of a van with a gun to your head. I should kill you, for putting my woman in danger...but I won’t, because I want her back more than I want you dead.”

The van comes to a stop.

“Alright,” Stav says. “We’re a few blocks away.”

I pull out the blueprints for the warehouse--we found them online in a public database--and hold them out to Dash.

“Where is she again?” I say.

“Fuck, man,” he says, pointing to the black sharpie mark. “There, for the fifth time.”

“You better not lie to us, Dick,” Tiger says, getting right up in Dash’s face and making crazy eyes.

“I’m not lying!” Dash says.

“If we don’t make it out alive,” I say, facing Stav, “I want you to kill Dash.”

“What about my money?” Stav asks.

I hand him a slip of paper. “It’s hidden here.”

“Cool,” Stav says. “I’ll kill this dude if you die then.”

“Yo,” Dash says. “Like, uh, I just remembered something. Maybe there’s more than one guy guarding her.”

“You fucking liar!” Tiger says, pushing the gun into Dash’s neck.

“How many guys?” I ask.

“Uh, maybe three?”

“Maybe?” I ask incredulously.

“I forgot!” Dash says. “There was just the one guy when I first got there, okay? But then the one guy, he ordered a pizza, and this guy wasn’t very big, like all lithe and shit, and he orders three pizzas just before I left.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re basing all your intel on how much pizza you think a man can eat?”

“Three pizzas for one guy?” Dash says. “Come on, man, that’s at least two guys, right?”

Stav turns back toward us. “I gotta’ agree with Dick on this one. I sold pizzas at my restaurant, and you don’t ever see one guy eating three pizzas, but ain’t no three guys gonna’ share just two pizzas neither. Three is about right.”

“What toppings?” Tiger asks. “He order any toppings?”

I’m ready to shoot all three of these guys myself at this point. Elise’s life is on the line and they’re discussing pizza toppings.

“Like sausage and pepperoni on one, all veggies on another--artichokes, mushrooms, and olives--and plain cheese with extra sauce for the third.”

I grind my teeth and get up in Dash’s face. “You assure me there is only one guy, and right before we are ready to roll out, you suddenly remember the exact fucking toppings on every fucking pizza? Your memory is pretty fucking selective.”

Dash shrugs. “Alright, maybe I was hoping you and Tiger here would get shot up, and that Stav wouldn’t give enough of a shit to do anything to me. I changed my mind...I want a fresh start!”

Dash grabs the blueprints and draws an ‘X’ on one of the walls. “This wall is all rotted out and shit. I remember seeing a bunch of sun rays and stuff going through it. Some boards with rusty nails patching it up, but probably one of you can sneak in there.”

“Why were you over here?” I ask, pointing to the hole in the wall. “Elise is way over here, so what reason did you have to wander around the fucking warehouse?”

“I had to piss,” Dash says. “So I pissed right over here.”

He points to the corner right next to the wall.

“Dick?” Tiger says to Stav, “Maybe you should name this guy ‘Dog!’ He’s pissing all over the house.”

“Like you’d have just held it in?” Dash says. “Who gives a fuck, man, this is your entrance, alright? You sneak in there all quiet, then one of you can go up the ladder over here, get the high ground. The other one can sneak around the side here--”

“Yeah,” I say, cutting him off. “It’s good. We can check to see if there’s really a hole here, and if there is, we can use it.”

Tiger and I climb out of the back of the van with our guns holstered in our jackets.

“Both wearing matching leather,” Dash says, rolling his eyes. “You guys look like some really gay mafia.”

“Fuck off, Dick,” I say, shutting the van doors on him.

I lock the doors with the key. I trust Stav to hold a gun on Dash. The only real weak point of this plan is hoping that Dash’s pizza intel is solid enough to act on.

“You believe him about the hole?” Tiger asks me, as we walk down toward the warehouse.

“I’ll believe it if I see it,” I say.

We circle way around toward the back of the warehouse. It’s surrounded by a barbed-wire fence, but Tiger has wire cutters tucked away in his jacket.

There’s no sign at all of anyone near the warehouse. There’s a slight risk that Gideon would post someone outside to warn the people inside, but that would more likely than not just look suspicious. He bet on “hiding” Elise in the warehouse, and posting goons outside makes her decidedly less hidden.

“I think,” Tiger says, “that these dudes are not so good. Real pros ain’t gonna’ order pizza to a place where they’re kidnapping a girl.”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding.

He cuts the last of the chain link fence and pushes it open far enough for us to squeeze in.

We pass into the perimeter of the warehouse. It’s covered with discarded and shredded tires and other stacks of rusted junk.

“Such a cliche place to hide someone,” Tiger whispers. “It’s like this dude learned all his bad guy tactics from old Hong Kong action movies.”

I signal toward the back wall, and we both move along the wall toward the corner. The hole Dash showed us should be just around the corner.

We turn the corner and see a bunch of rotting boards with rusted nails.

“Good,” I whisper. “There’s really a hole here.”

“Wait,” Tiger says, holding me back.

He leans in toward the hole and starts to sniff like a dog.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

“I smell piss,” he says. “Dick really pissed here.”

“So?”

“So he’s not lying, man!” Tiger says. “Think about it. I worried a little that Dick’s intel was a trap, and that the bad guys would see us when we go in through this hole, but if they are standing just on the other side of this hole, then Dick wouldn’t have pissed here where they could see him, right?”

Pizza and piss. True detective shit.

“Alright,” I say. “Give me the wire cutters.”

Tiger hands them to me, and I pry some of the boards off as gently and quietly as I can.

I make very little sound, and after only a few boards are removed, there’s an opening big enough for us both to squeeze through.

“When we go in,” I say, “you take the ladder up to the catwalk.”

“Yeah,” Tiger says. “I’m a better shot than you. Especially with this cool gun.”

I nod. I was thinking more that I wanted to be on the ground to get to Elise as fast as possible, but whatever Tiger wants to tell himself

“I’m going to draw them out,” I say. “Once they are out in the open and looking for me, you pop out and do as much damage as you can.”

“Sick,” Tiger says. “It’s like fishing, but not boring as fuck. Bait and hook.”

We crawl in through the hole. I bring the wire cutters in with me, just in case someone walked outside and saw them. I place them on the ground near where Dash pissed in the corner--no one will want to come near there for a while because of the smell.

I pull out my gun and point toward the ladder.

I wait until I see Tiger climbing, and then I tiptoe my way through the hallway.

The small hallway is lined with small offices on either side. At the end of the hall, it wraps around and opens out into the main space of the warehouse, which is where Dash marked Elise as being held.

I move as quietly down the hallway as I can. Tiger should be in position by now, so as soon as I reach the main space, I can look for Elise and confirm that there are three guys. I figure I have a free shot on the guy closest to me, but as soon as he goes down, the other two will scramble. Tiger should be able to drop the other two if his aim is good, but—

A man turns the corner. He’s grabbing at his belt and undoing it as he turns toward me. He must be going for a piss.

I’m too caught off guard to react immediately, but so is he.

He looks up and yells. “Shit!”

He fumbles for his gun, but mine is already drawn.

I tighten my grip and point toward his center of mass. I fire three times right into his chest. He drops to the ground in a heap, his gun falling to his side.

Not exactly how I wanted to start things, but close enough.

I rush toward the corner, and I suddenly hear more gunfire from around the corner and high above. From the catwalk. Tiger has opened fire.

Moments later, more gunfire erupts in response.

I raise my gun and sight across it, then I pop out ready to fire.

I see another dead guy on the ground about thirty feet in front of me. But another twenty feet out is a guy with long, grimy hair, and he’s holding Elise braced against his body. There’s a gun directed at her head.

“Let her go,” I shout, pointing my gun at him.

There’s no fucking way that Tiger or I can risk a shot with Elise in front of him like that. I hope to God that Tiger realizes that, too.

“Hunter!” Elise shouts, and the guy squeezes her arm until she yelps, sticking the barrel of the gun deeper into her.

“It’s over,” I shout. “It’s two against one.”

I hear Tiger’s voice shout down from the catwalk. “Yeah, mother fuck! We gonna’ kill you either way, might as well let the girl go--”

“No!” I shout. “We are not going to fucking kill you. If you let Elise go, you can walk. I don’t give two shits about you.”

“Yeah, right,” the guy says. His voice is all nerves. “Only way I get out of here is if I take her with me!”

I hear a metal clank, and the guy pulls his gun away from Elise and points it toward Tiger.

Moments later, Elise bites down on the guy’s forearm. Her teeth must really sink in, because I see blood start to drip down his arm.

He yelps and--reflexively--tries to shove Elise away. He’s strong enough--and Elise is light enough--that she flies a good two or three feet before crashing to the ground.

Tiger and I open fire.

The guy crumbles to the ground.

“Hu backs up his promises!” Tiger shouts down to the dead body.

I’m already rushing toward Elise. Even with the guy dead, I need to be beside her. No one can take her away from me again if I don’t leave her side.

“Hunter does,” Elise shouts, laughing.

“No,” Tiger shouts. “I’m Hu! I meant me!”

I hear his feet clanking on the catwalk, away from us.

“Tiger,” I shout. “Keep an eye on the perimeter.”

“Which perimeter?” he shouts back.

“Perimeter means the whole fucking area surrounding the building, man. There’s only one.”

Elise is struggling to her feet when I reach her. I pull her up and into me. I grab hold of her and squeeze her tight.

“I’m not letting you go ever again,” I say. “Fuck what anyone else thinks.”

“Perimeter!” I hear Tiger shout. “Uh, I see some dude coming, man! He’s holding, like, a briefcase and shit.”

“How many? Just one?”

“Nah, three, man!”

I grab Elise by the hand and pull her toward the hallway with the offices. “Hurry!”

We run hand in hand, and she gasps when she sees the guy I shot earlier plopped down in the hallway.

“Three guys?” I shout up to Tiger. “You just said ‘some dude,’ you gotta’ be more clear.”

“Three briefcases!” he shouts back down to me. “One dude, three briefcases!”

“Get into this office,” I say, opening a door. “Stay in here. I’m not gonna’ fucking leave this door. No one is getting through me.”

Elise nods, and I shut the door, sealing her safely inside.

“You think,” Tiger says, “that he’s here to pay the ransom or something? Maybe Elise’s mom sent him? Three briefcases holds a lot of money.”

“There’s no ransom,” I say. “Gideon wants Nadine to bring the company down. He doesn’t just want money.”

“Can you get him from the window?” I ask.

I hear Tiger clanking down the ladder, and then he’s right next to me.

Tiger grabs my arm. “We both just sit next to the door, man. When he comes in...pop pop pop!”

“I just told Elise I wasn’t leaving the--”

“Come on, man!” Tiger says, pulling at me. “You wanna’ protect her? Yeah? One guy, we both shoot at him and she’s protected.”

I open the door up. “Stay here Elise. It’s one guy, we’re going to stop him before he gets anywhere near you.”

“Be careful, Hunter,” she says, nodding.

Tiger and I move up toward the door and wait.

“Did you hear any phones ringing?” Tiger asks.

“Huh?”

“Like,” Tiger says, “he might be coming to back up these three we killed. If he was, he’d call first, wouldn’t he?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Maybe he wouldn’t? Maybe he was here earlier and just stepped out for a bit?”

Tiger pops open the chamber to his revolver and starts sliding in more bullets. “Either way, he’s fucking dead!”

I nod.

We wait. It feels like ages.

There’s a loud knock at the door.

“Why the fuck is he knocking?” Tiger whispers.

“So he doesn’t get shot walking in,” I suggest.

“Pizza!” a voice shouts from the other side of the door. “Sorry for the delay!”

Tiger and I stare at each other with wide eyes.

“Three briefcases,” I say. “Tiger, were the briefcases the size of pizza boxes? And stacked on top of each other?”

“Ah,” Tiger says. “Yeah, maybe. I guess they looked a lot like pizzas, now that I think of it. You got any cash to tip him?”