The Last Orphan
Chapter 57

It is harder than one might think to produce a dump truck full of old tires.

But not impossible.

Less difficult to douse said tires with gasoline.

Tipping the truck over takes some doing, sure, but if one is trained in tactical driving and knows how to hit a curb sideways off a skid, it’s not as hard as it might seem.

Seat belt recommended.

Ignition is of course a breeze. A flicked match as you fade away into the thickening night, and everything goes boom.

The conflagration of sticky and immovable tonnage provides an excellent clog to a choke point like, say, the one at Halsey Neck and Meadow Lane.

It will likely demand a response not readily mustered by beefed-up private security teams and local PD.

You should try it sometime.

Sticky and Immovable Tonnage

Shouting and commotion erupted on Meadow Lane. Agitated officers bellowed into their radios, getting back equally adrenalized squawking. Cruisers lighting up, peeling out from the curb, sirens squealing. Security teams tightening around perimeters. Shouted exchanges from guard stations to patrolmen, everyone in a tizzy.

You’d think it was the first time they’d ever dealt with a flaming overturned dump truck heaped with tires.

A low fog had crept in from the sea, puffy wisps and streamers that cut visibility, adding to the commotion. As the cops washed up the beachfront strip toward its intersection at Halsey Neck, a female cop in a formfitting police uniform sliced through the front gardens of Tartarus.

Candy kept the brim of her peaked cap low over her eyes and the generic long-sleeve uniform shirt unbuttoned slightly but not yet seductively.

She rang the doorbell, which echoed sonorously throughout the house.

Rathsberger ripped the massive door open, coyote-tan M17 9-millimeter aimed through the gap at her boots.

“What are you doing?” Candy said. “I’m police.”

Rath’s face trembled with alertness, his right eye lost to a smear of scar tissue. “Lemme see badge and creds. Badge and creds or no one comes in.”

Candy swallowed, took an uncharacteristically nervous half step back. “Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to holster your—”

A Southampton Village police officer appeared out of nowhere, approaching her from the side, screaming. “Hands! Hands!” He wore a proper uniform with a regulation cap and a tactical neck gaiter covering half his face. “Show me your f*****g hands now!”

“Shit,” Candy said, quietly through clenched teeth, seemingly to no one. “We have a problem.”

“Step back,” the cop said to Rath. “Close the door.”

As Rath narrowed the gap, the cop frisked Candy roughly and then slapped cuffs on her. He noticed she was wearing an earpiece and yanked it out. It was a match for his own comms setup, which he initiated now. “We’ve got an impostor. Repeat: We have an intrusion attempt at Tartarus. Get backup here. Four units. Now. I have her in custody, and I’m sending her to my partner.”

A tough feminine voice came back over the radio. “Copy that. Units en route.”

The cop took a few steps off the wide porch and then propelled her into the fog. Candy nearly tumbled on the quartz stone. “What the f**k?” she said. “I’m a stripper, okay? It was just a joke.”

“Got her?” the cop shouted to his partner through the mist. He spun back around, hustling to the front door. “Have you safed the property?”

Rath said, “We have cameras everywhere—”

The cop pushed past him into the foyer. “Secure this door. We’re gonna lock down the perimeter.”

Rath threw the weighty dead bolt, sealing Tartarus. He scurried back around the cop into the lobby. “Tenpenny, get on surveillance. Let’s safe the floors from the bottom up. Move.”

Tenpenny stumbled to the second-floor landing, hands spread, staring down. Santos was halfway down the stairs already, Gordo wheezing behind him. Dapper Dan stood in front of the waterfall feature, which had resumed its tireless downpour; with his 9-mil drawn, he peered up the corridor toward the back of the house.

Rath caught himself partway to the stairs, seemingly halted by an epiphany. He swung back around to face the cop.

Evan pulled down the regulation neck gaiter.

And smiled.

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