Brad Taylor - The Polaris Protocol

Before I could stop her, she was out of the car and sprinting across Eje 1 Norte, disappearing into the Tepito marketplace.

I shouted out the open window for her to stop, but it did no good. I leapt out of the car myself, running through the traffic and into the barrio, giving orders on the radio. “Blood, lock down that exit. Don’t let them get out the east end. Knuckles, Jennifer’s headed right to you. Hold your ground as best you can without getting into a fight. Decoy, close on Knuckles.”

I entered the market and was immediately stymied by the mass of people. An alley about five feet wide lined on both sides with multicolored plastic tarps, it was jammed with a moving anthill of people, all buying, selling, or just hanging out, with the air swirling with a myriad of spices from outdoor taco vendors.

I was slowed to a fast walk, bumping through the crowd like a pinball and getting glares from men who looked like they’d shown up directly from the central casting of a spaghetti western. At least by their faces, because I don’t remember any spaghetti western with characters sporting Adidas T-shirts and tattoos, but make no mistake, they all looked like hard men. I saw no sign of Jennifer. Either everyone was getting out of her way because she was a woman, or she’d already been dragged down an alley somewhere.

I keyed my mike again. “Koko, this is Pike. Status.”

Jennifer said, “Closing in on Knuckles’s position.”

Damn. She is flying through this place.

“Do not, I say again, do not engage until we can develop a plan. Link up with Knuckles and wait on me. Acknowledge.”

I heard nothing but couldn’t be sure it wasn’t because I was barreling over a guy selling some sort of food on a cart. He cursed me and I said again, “Koko, acknowledge.”

“Pike, I see Knuckles. I’m on Knuckles now. Break-break. Knuckles, where’s the car?”

Knuckles said, “Koko, stand by. Pike, I got eyes on her, but we got another problem.”

I squeezed between two vendors, shaking my head when one began waving scarves in my face. “What?”

“There’s a group of Asians coming out of the alley that has the BMW. I think they saw the crowd of banditos forming up and didn’t like it. The good news is the banditos quit messing with me. The bad news is the Asian guys are now focused on them, and it looks like they’re working into a fight.”

Jennifer said, “I see them. They’re Korean. Korean Mafia. They own a ton of warehouses around here. The car is probably in a Korean property, and they’re protecting their turf.”

How the hell does she always know this stuff?

“Jennifer, hold what you got. Decoy, what’s your distance?”

“I’m there. I can see Knuckles. Coming in at his six.”

“Okay, listen up—”

“Gun. Bandito pulled a gun.”

Here we go.

“Everyone down. Get out of the fight. Blood, what’s your status?”

“East end is fine. I’m eating a taco. Guess they don’t have an issue with a black man after all.”

“Can you still see the gringos?”

“No, but they never exited the roll-up. They’re still inside.”

A gunshot split the air no more than thirty meters from me. People started screaming, running in all directions. Then the shooting started in earnest. I jammed against a wall and said, “Knuckles, what the fuck is going on?”

“Gunfight at the O.K. Corral. Or the Kimchi Corral. You pick.”

“Get down the alley. Get to the car.”

“I can’t from this side. I’ll have to penetrate the cross fire.”

Jennifer said, “This is Koko. I got it. I’m on the near side. I’m going in.”

“No! You stay put, I’m on the way.”

Knuckles said, “She’s the only one who can get there.”

I reentered the flow of people fleeing the market, not wanting to say it, but I did. “Koko, move.”

Working upstream, I reached the intersection in time to see Jennifer turn the corner to the alley, running in the middle of a group of women escaping the gunfire. I caught a glimpse of a Glock in her hand, and I knew she was about to commit to a shooting war to save her brother. And all I could do was back her up.

“Blood, get down the alley. Enter the building.”

“Roger. By myself?”

“Koko’s on the way and I’m right behind her.”

I heard him say, “Good to go,” just as I rounded the corner. The roll-up door with the BMW was much, much closer to my side of the alley than his. Even so, we reached it at the same time. He might not have played basketball, but Blood could run like a damn cheetah.

We entered with pistols drawn, seeing nothing. I heard a door slam at the top of a flight of stairs and we both began running up them. We entered a small apartment with only a couch and a table. At the back was an open sliding door to a makeshift balcony, the curtains flowing in from the wind and the roof to the next building just below it. Jennifer was nowhere to be seen. I was running to the balcony when a Korean appeared out of a side room carrying an AK-47. He raised his weapon and Blood drilled him twice in the chest, throwing him to the ground.

I saw a flash of someone jumping a roof fifty feet away and recognized Jennifer’s hair blowing in the wind. I wanted to chase after her dumb ass but knew I couldn’t leave the area uncleared. Blood was outside the door to the only other room and I ran to him, squeezing his shoulder.

We entered to find the space empty, losing precious seconds.

45

We sprinted to the balcony, me screaming into the radio, “Koko, Koko, stop what you’re doing. Do not go any deeper into the barrio.”

“Pike, I’ve got my brother in sight! He’s being pushed forward by a bald guy who looks like the devil.”

Christ. I knew it would do no good trying to get her to stop. Which left me running after her. I tossed the key fob for the BMW to Blood and said, “Get that car out and shadow us north.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Chase her crazy ass.”

I gave a SITREP on the radio, getting everyone moving north, the dismounts going to Decoy’s vehicle and Blood inside the BMW, paralleling my line of march, then took off out the balcony, jumping roof to roof.

One building over I saw Jennifer behind some concrete bricks, trading shots with someone on the other side. I jumped the gap and slid in behind her while she was in the process of reloading. She freaked out at my sudden appearance, trying to take my head off. I blocked the strike and slammed her against the brick.

I said, “What part of ‘stop what you’re doing’ do you not understand?”

“Pike, my brother is on the next roof. I saw him. He’s with the guy shooting back.”

I peeked over the wall and saw three men running.

Shit.

I said, “Cover me. Do not move until I’m covering you. Do you understand?”

She nodded and I leapt up, giving chase. I reached the next building and jumped over the small gap, landing in another makeshift terrace with an old couple looking like they were enjoying the excitement and ignoring the fact that bullets were flying. I vaulted over a low wall, crashed through a clothesline, and heard a shot snap past my head.

I flattened behind the cinder blocks and heard Jennifer return fire, hoping she was taking the time to aim. I pulled up, getting my pistol over the brick and centering my sight post, seeing one man with a gun flanked by two men crouching with their hands over their heads. I radioed, “Jennifer, move.”

The distance was way outside the envelope for a surgical shot from a handgun, but all I wanted to do was get him to quit shooting back. He cracked a bullet our way and I held high to compensate for the drop of the.45-caliber slug. The round impacted the brick right next to his head, smacking him with spall. He recoiled from the spray of brick, then kicked the other two men. They jumped to the next building.