Money Knows No Bounds

Chapter Five

January 1st, 2020
0918 hours central
Crop Field 75 minutes NE of Mexico City
A man, hidden behind the double barricade of vehicles, clears his throat as he grabs the microphone to the loudspeaker mounted on one of the cars. In a thick Mexican accent, he begins to speak in clear English as if it was his first language. "Attention, this is the Federal Police of Mexico. Come out with your hands up or we will take action. You have two minutes to comply."
John looks down at the machine pistol gripped in his right hand. He looks over to Steve and George who show no fear in their eyes. They would follow him into hell and he knows it. But he doesn't want unnecessary bloodshed, he never does.
"So again, I ask, what now?" Steve whispers, crouched to his knees.
"I'm thinking."
"Well, you need to think a little faster. They are gonna push in unless we start a firefight. And boy genius in the plane is taking too long."
"Also, needless to mention, our fucking take from the job is still in the plane," George spits out in an angered murmur.
John sighs, "I guess me and Steve can provide suppressing fire allowing you, Bill, and Luke, to get into the cargo bay and lay down fire for me and Steve to get into the plane. Then we just hold them off until the plane is ready."
George huffs, "I really could use a drink right now."
"Noted, let's get ready to move. Signal Luke the plan Steve."
Steve nods and faces the three crates outside the plane. He whistles softly and Luke creeps his head to the side of the far right box. Steve, using hand signals, informs him of the plan.
John checks the mag in his pistol for the third time. I really wish we didn't have to do this, he thinks. He hates being in a profession that requires him to swallow his emotions and moral compass in order to get things done and survive; and for a stupid thing like money.
Steve looks at him, "ready?"
John nods and in unison the duo split, moving past Bill and George on both sides of the front of the car. John begins unloading the bullets from his pistol. The rapid and continuous flow of lead leaving the barrel vibrate his hand crazily. Steve follows swiftly, firing at the tires of the vehicles. Unlike John, he actually has targets for possible future problems. Only moments pass while John and Steve fire before the police begin to shoot back. Pistols and shotguns behind the Sedan fire in the general area of where the men are currently positioned.
"GO!" John screams as he hits the halfway portion of his mag. Bill and George sprint towards the open cargo bay of the plane. Luke, being closer, beats them and begins firing from behind a crate inside.
One of the officers, being apparently not fluent in English or did not feel the need to speak the language, shouts a command to some of the other men. As one, they begin firing on the plane, shooting at the tires, the fuel hatch, and the engines.
Luke notices the constant fire at the plane growing bigger as more men direct their fire at the large idle bird still prepping to fly. He quickly deduces that the plane won't be their escape and decides to take precautions.
As George and Bill dive behind separate crates on the edge of the ramp, Luke sprints deeper into the plane and begins grabbing the four heavy duffel bags holding the merc's money, weapons and explosives from the night before.
"MICHAEL WE GOTTA GO!" He shouts turning his head to the cockpit. He growls and runs toward George dropping the bags at his sides.
"What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck down!" George screams before leaning up to fire a few rounds toward the cops.
"They are firing at the plane now, it's not gonna be our exit! I need to go get Michael out!" Luke replies as he turns back around and runs to the cockpit.
"Oh you're a fucking saint now aren't you?"
"Michael comon we gotta g-," Luke begins to say as he shoves his head into the doorway. He notices Michael's head leaning against the broken window. Blood drips from the gunshot wound on the left side of his head.
Luke sighs and turns as George screams for his attention. "GET YOUR ASS UP HERE NOW!"
Luke sprints to his position and takes cover beside a crate.
"Well? Where the fuck is he?"
"Got clipped. What the hell do we do now?"
"HA! You ask as if I am the boss!" George looks over at John and Steve who are pinned down, unable to provide any decent cover fire to get the three men out of the plane.
Bill pokes his head up slightly only to dive back down as bullets ricochet off of his cover. "What about the C-4? We can throw a couple of the already prepped ones and explode them in mid air or whatever. That should give us time to get to the car."
George's eyes widen with surprise. That was actually a great idea. He turns his head towards Luke and smiles, "i'm liking this rook more and more! How many available charges do we have?"
Luke opens one of the duffle bags and shuffles around it's contents looking for the explosives. "Looks like three. I'm thinking we throw one now, blow it, then another one when we reach the car, then the third one as we drive off."
George nods, "what about casualties?"
Luke shakes his head, "fuck that. Let's focus on getting out of here." He grips one of the charges and chucks it as far as he can throw. It land a few feet away from the far right police suv's front. He picks up the detonator from inside the bag before closing it back up and yanking it around his shoulder. "Get ready, you two grab the other three bags."
George and Bill quickly grab the straps of the duffels and hold their guns tightly. Luke presses the red button on the remote detonator and the vehicle closest to the charge becomes engulfed in a large explosion. The blast causes the car to topple over onto its side crushing the two officers that were once behind it. As the car falls, the three men inside the cargo bay run like hell towards the Sedan.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" John shouts at them once they dive down next to them.
"It was Bill's idea. Now get ready. I'm gonna throw another one to buy us time to get into the car," Luke replies as he opens up the duffel again and grabs the last two ready charges.
John shakes his head, "this is a horrible idea. What about the plane?"
George, who now is on the far edge of the front bumper, shoots the last bullets in his mag. "The pilot's dead. That damn thing's a lost cause."
"I still don't thi-"
"WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS," Luke yells frustrated. "Just get ready. George, you're driving."
George nods and Luke throws another set explosive above the Sedan. It lands, at least he hopes it did, somewhere in the middle of the vehicle perimeter. If this was the case, the explosion should give them enough time to get in the car, get everyone situated and start driving. Luke looks at the men near him who are watching him, waiting for the boom. He squeezes his thumb down onto the detonation button. Six cars either explode or get pushed away from their original spots as the blast shakes the ground around the ensuing battle. Five officers quickly die, but it's the price to pay for the mercenaries escape.
George and John quickly move to the front seats of the car, the rest move to the back.
Luke hands Steve the last charge, "use it when we pull out." Steve nods and moves to the far left window of the back seat. No bullets fire as the surviving cops quickly try to save the few who are injured.
George starts the car's engine and brings the car into reverse. Steve quickly throws the last charge towards the last few visible suv's that are in still good shape. He holds up a thumb to Luke.
As George begins driving the car backwards, Luke presses the button once more and the ground shakes once more as the C-4 explodes destroying any driving capabilities left with the first 10 cars on the scene.
The men don't know this, but their escape ended 12 men's lives, either from gunshot wounds or the explosions and their shockwave. Nevertheless, the car pulls away into an open field as some officers begin to shoot at the men's last shot at survival. George shifts his transmission and starts driving forward aiming at the small hilltop. Three suv's quickly pull away from the battle area and chase down the Sedan's tail.
"SHIT, we got a few more behind us," Bill says with slight distraught in his voice.
"Then take care of them! Aim for the tires," John replies while grabbing the folded map in the glove compartment.
"Where am I going to dude? I can't very well drive to the border with cops after us."
"I'm looking, I'm looking!" John opens the map and looks at the available towns nearby.
Luke and Bill shoot at the back window's glass. Knowing that wasn't enough, Steve grabs one of the rifles from the duffle bags and pushes the cracked glass off with the butt of the gun. The men proceed to shoot at the front car's tires.
John points to something on the map, "there, Tulancingo. It's big enough where we can lose them and ditch this car."
"Then what?" George asks as he swerves the car between the traffic lanes to try and loosen the grip of the pursuers behind.
"How about we worry about that after we get a new car. Steve, grab the last of the C-4 and set them up to the detonators."
Steve turns his body to face forward in the car. He quickly leans down and goes through the duffle bags. "This would be easier for George you know."
"Heh, yeah well, kinda trying to not get us killed or caught at the moment. Besides they just snap on," George replies constantly swerving the car in a zig zagged motion.
Steve grunts as he drops the charges for the second time and bumps roughly into Bill. "It would also be easier if you would keep the damn vehicle steady!" He shouts. Getting no reply he returns to his work, quickly snapping the detonators to the last four C-4 charges.
John looks to see him ready. "George slow the car down."
"WHAT?" George screams. "What the hell are you on right now John? If I slow down they will fucking ram us of-"
"JUST DO IT GEORGE! Slow down enough so their bumper touches ours."
George growls as he lightly presses down on the brake. The car slows slightly. The men all feel the jolt as the lead suv bashes into their back bumper.
"Steve, throw a charge at their windshield. George once I give the word I want your foot slammed on the gas."
Both Steve and George are shocked at John's intentions. Even surprised, Steve quickly turns his body slightly and throws one of the set explosives. It hits directly in the middle of the suv's windshield.
"NOW!" John screams. George quickly shoves his foot onto the gas pedal and the car accelerates, quickly reaching 150 miles per hour and creating ample distance between them and the soon to be smoldering police car.
As the gap between the two cars get bigger, Steve quickly grabs the detonator lying on the floor. "When?"
"Now," John replies. Steve presses the button. The leading suv's windshield shatters within milliseconds of the explosion, the two men inside die almost instantly. The control of the vehicle disappears as it stops its forward charge, turning to its side and crashing into the two police cars directly behind.
Luke smiles as he watches the destruction, "we're good."
John relaxes in his seat sighing with relief. "Ok, where are we right now?"
"We just passed the last exit to Singuilucan." George says beginning to slow the speed of the car down to the limit.
"Don't slow down. We need to hurry. First road you see to the right, take it. We need to get off this highway. No doubt they called for reinforcements."
Only minutes pass, given how fast the car was going, before they make their way down a small road.
John looks at the map. "Ok, there's a smallish town down the road called Santiago Tulantepec. We will ditch the car there, get a new one and go through Tulancingo. I'll figure out a plan when we secure a new ride."
The car continues down the road at a speed far beyond the required limit. Speed was the key right now. The men had to get out of the country quickly.
George slows as they enter the city limits of Santiago Tulantepec. So far, no police vehicles are in pursuit of them or rushing to both scenes in which John's boys have caused.
"Ok," John says before an exhausted sigh. "George, you're the decision maker. Find some place secluded where we can dump this damn thing."
A few minutes pass, as they drive down a few main roads, before the car moves into a small dirt parking area holding a few vehicles of various brands and sizes.
Getting out of the car in a quick pace, George walks in a haste down the line of cars. His head darts left and right, viewing all of the potential escape vehicles and determining, in his head along with small mumbles of yays and nays, which one was going to take them away.
"Got one," he shouts staring at a dirt encrusted grey Honda Civic. John leaves the car and jogs over to him.
"Think you can get it started?" He asks, still looking at the car in its entirety.
George huff's, "Really? Real-you're really asking me that? I mean, I know I drink but I expected more confidence given to me."
John rolls his eyes, "just get it ready. Now. We need to leave."
"Woah, wait. We need a plan, remember?" Steve says as he walks over to John.
"I have one. I figured it out on the way here."
"Care to brief your men?"
John sighs, "Ok, we take the car and we go up to a town on the coast. We snag us a boat, then ride up the gulf to the plane pickup. Coast Guard is slim around here with the immigrants from Cuba constantly going to America."
"Hope you're right. Today has just been one big hot mess," George says before bashing open the driver side window to open the door.