1
LEVY
Nacho yanks open the van door before jumping into the driver’s seat.
“This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions,” he says in Spanish.
He’s right. We’re parked in front of a restaurant that minutes before, had been full of diners enjoying their food.
Unfortunately, we had pretty convincing evidence that the people working in the back weren’t there of their own free will.
A bullet whizzes over the top of the van, and I hesitate with my response, unsure if I’ve got the conjugations and tenses right in my head. “Bram is going to kill Charlie for putting us in the middle of this.”
My brother Bram and I are therapists at Wild Heart Ranch’s Equine Therapy Center, which is owned by Charlie Wills. Charlie’s side hustles include high-end bounties and rescuing survivors of human trafficking. We offered to be on hand for non-violent operations to support the people who need it.
Turns out, this op wasn’t as non-violent as Charlie had hoped.
Nacho sends me a thumbs-up as another bullet zips by. “Excellent conjugation!”
“Would you two focus?” Bram asks, sliding open the side door of the panel van. He hurries into the back as another pop of gunfire goes off, taking out the driver side mirror as he noisily slams the door shut.
“You were saying, brother?” I ask in English.
“We can hear your Spanish lessons over the comms. At least mute yourself.” Gesturing to the mother and teenage son huddling in the rear corner of the van, he adds, “They don’t need to hear what you’re talking about.”
Nacho looks in the rearview mirror, narrowing his eyes at Bram. They’ve been together for a while, and he’s good for my brother. Especially when he puts him in his place, which is about to happen in three, two, one…
“I’m speaking in Spanish for two reasons. One, your brother asked me to speak in Spanish to him on this mission to test out whether or not he’s integrated Spanish comfortably enough to use it under duress. Charlie approved it.”
Speaking of the devil, Charlie runs in front of the van, knife in hand. An enormous mountain of a man comes from the side and takes his legs out from under him. The man goes to pull his weapon, then keels over, revealing Erik with a smoking gun.
Looking through the windshield, he sends us an apologetic shrug before helping Charlie up and running off.
“And?” Bram asks, deeply put out.
“And what?” Nacho asks, flinching as a bullet skims the roof on his side.
“Fuck. Levy, Ignacio, get in the back,” Bram grumbles, pulling Nacho back through the two captain’s chairs before he can protest.
A bullet glances off of the windshield, and the mother screams while I decide my brother might have a point. I reach into the back and grab Erik’s empty rifle case, standing it up and shoving it between the two front seats.
“Levy! You’re supposed to stay onthisside of the case!” Bram shouts as I drop into the driver’s seat and start the van.
“Fuck, who let Levy drive?” Nacho asks in Spanish, cracking himself up as I peel out of the now-abandoned parking lot. I misjudge the exit and end up going over the sidewalk, landing in the road with a thunk and a pair of whining axles.
“Sorry, guys!”
“Say it in Spanish!”
“¡Lo siento, muchachos!”
“¡Excellente!”
A bullet pings off the back bumper, and I scrape the side of a parked car as I find the main thoroughfare. Bram pulls away the rifle case and leans between the two front seats, staring at the side of my head.
“Do you even know where you’re going?”
Charlie’s calm voice filters over the comms as gunfire continues to go off in the background. “Drive to the end of the block and turn right, then keep going until you hit the highway.”Rat-tat-tat-umph.“Go south and head home. We’re a few minutes behind you.”
