{"id":2439,"date":"2022-10-29T15:59:58","date_gmt":"2022-10-29T22:59:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2439"},"modified":"2022-10-29T15:59:58","modified_gmt":"2022-10-29T22:59:58","slug":"lucky-night","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2022\/10\/29\/lucky-night\/","title":{"rendered":"Lucky Night"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about a plan that goes wrong, for the better.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Months of planning, investigation, and surveillance \u2014 much of it skirting on the thin edges of the law \u2014 were about to pay off. Miranda had him in her sights, and she was going to put him down for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s not to say she was planning to kill him but putting him behind bars was just as good. She\u2019d followed the progress of the last shipment through customs and knew that it would be her best chance to catch him with the goods.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She knew the pattern by now. The shipment would clear customs, get loaded on a rental truck, be driven to a warehouse on the east side where it was unloaded, and the truck would be returned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Later in the evening, a delivery van would leave the warehouse with the goods and be driven here, an abandoned factory in the crumbling industrial district north of the city. Once it made it to the factory, he would be alone in guarding it while the van drove away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the small hours of the morning, a crew would arrive and process and package the goods. By first light, the crew, the goods, and the man she was following would be gone. She hadn\u2019t figured out how they got it out of the factory, since no other vehicles would arrive or leave, yet the entire vanload would be gone once they left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda checked her phone; the van had entered thirty minutes earlier, it should be leaving soon. As if on cue, the overhead door opened, and the van drove out. Only her target was left in there now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She waited for the overhead door to close before moving in closer. The last time she\u2019d been in the factory, she\u2019d left one of the side windows unlatched. She may have played a little loose with the rules up to this point, but she was going to do this next part by the book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She called dispatch on her phone. \u201cDetective Leffler, badge KN379. Send backup to 11475 Umbra, building 9. Movement in abandoned factory, lights on main floor. I\u2019m going in to make sure no one gets themselves injured.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne moment, Sergeant, putting the call on the radio now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHolding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda moved to the window and crouched below it, waiting for the permission she needed to go in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDetective Leffler, units on their way. Desk Sergeant wants you to wait at the gate for the units.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that a request or an order?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe exact words were, \u2018Tell her to wait outside the gate and meet the units there.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSounds like an ask, not an order. Advise the units I\u2019m going in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With that, she ended the call and checked the window. It was still unlatched. She opened the window and shimmied through to the dusty office. A shiver of adrenaline shot through her, and she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. With a slow and intentional hand, she unholstered her weapon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opened the office door, doing her best to keep the hinges from squeaking. Opened wide enough for her to pass through, she listened for any sounds of movement. The main floor of the factory, where the overhead door was, seemed to be the only source of sounds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It sounded like he might be on a call. Either that, or he wasn\u2019t<\/em> alone. Either way, she was going to see this through. Backup should be arriving in less than ten minutes, enough time for her to make the collar or determine whether to hang back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The cargo sat in a neat stack of boxes in the middle of the main floor. She\u2019d been right, he was on the phone. He was still too far away for her to make out what he was saying, but his back was turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda crept to the stack of boxes and climbed onto the lowest tier to get a better vantage. She pointed her pistol at him. \u201cPolice! Don\u2019t mo\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She was interrupted by a sharp blow on her shoulder, making her drop the weapon. She\u2019d only turned partway around toward her attacker when she was struck in the chin, snapping her head to the side and knocking her out cold.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda woke, feeling refreshed for the briefest moment\u2026at least until the pain of the blow and the resulting headache rushed in. She reached for her head on instinct and found herself in the process of being locked up with her own cuffs. The partially crushed boxes beneath her were uncomfortable, as was the large man that sat on top of her binding her hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He stood and pulled her off the boxes. He was well over six feet tall, and, she guessed, around two-sixty if not more. Close-cropped blonde hair above brown eyes and sun-darkened skin the color of a burnt peach. He had the crooked nose and small, short scars of a long-time bare-knuckle brawler.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d thought initially that she\u2019d been hit with a club or baton, but realized it was his calloused knuckles that had done the deed. She looked for her pistol but didn\u2019t see it anywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His large, work-hardened hands began pawing at her. It was almost an effective pat-down, but he only found her empty holster, badge clip, and wallet. He pulled her pistol out of the back of his waistband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cStay here and stay quiet, or you get dead,\u201d he said. \u201cNod your head if you understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda nodded, her head thudding with movement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe\u2019s a cop,\u201d he said to the man she\u2019d been after. He walked over to the other man and handed him the badge and wallet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since he hadn\u2019t found her phone, she reached for the pocket where it should be. It was empty. The boxes she\u2019d been laid out on\u2026her phone was in there somewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The other man motioned her over. \u201cCome over here,\u201d he said, \u201cI don\u2019t want to yell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She walked over, staying just out of reach. He was shorter than Miranda\u2019s five-foot-seven. The man was thin, with olive-tinged skin, thick, salt-and-pepper hair, groomed eyebrows, and light brown eyes that divulged nothing of what was going on behind them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDetective Miranda Leffler\u2026212 West Highland, apartment 19\u2026or is it a condo?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at him without answering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, no matter. I know who you are, and I suppose you know who I am?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When no response was forthcoming, he looked at the larger man. \u201cHow hard did you hit her? Did you scramble her brains?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The larger man brandished her pistol again. \u201cWhen Mr. Stevens asks, you answer. Got it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The smaller man let out an exasperated sigh. \u201cDanny, how many times do I have to tell you\u2026no names<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry, boss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot that it matters.\u201d He stepped into Miranda\u2019s personal space. Her initial thought was that she could take him, even cuffed as she was. That thought was just as soon replaced with the knowledge that Danny would shoot her before she got started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAsk away,\u201d she said. \u201cYou\u2019re holding all the cards.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBetter. I know you called for backup. They\u2019re at the gate now, waiting for my orders.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tried and failed to hide her surprise. Of course, he would have police in his pocket. If she made it out of this, she\u2019d see who was on duty the nights that the product moved through the factory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be surprised, dear. I\u2019m a businessman, and as such, I pay for security, just like any other.\u201d He opened one of the damaged boxes and pulled out a plush toy. \u201cAmazing that something so simple can make so much money. Thirteen cents each, plus another three for the ear tags, and I can wholesale them at six bucks a pop. Of course, the markup from there to the toy store, to the consumer is highway robbery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know you can\u2019t get away with it forever,\u201d she said. \u201cThis spot and your warehouse where you keep the van are burned.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou might think so,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I\u2019m going to tell you what\u2019s about to happen. You\u2019re going to march out there and start shooting at your fellow officers. While they\u2019re busy trying to talk you down, you\u2019re going to shoot yourself in the head. Tragic, really.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see,\u201d she said. Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of it. \u201cYou\u2019re going to kill a cop over some counterfeit toys? I guess life in prison sounds better to you than ten years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not<\/em> just some counterfeit toys. These are the same toys and tags as the originals, from the same factory. There\u2019s over a million dollars in these boxes\u2026wholesale. Danny, make it happen. And when the crew gets here, get the orders handled and on the train; the car number\u2019s on the dry-erase board by the door. I\u2019ll be busy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Danny nodded and prodded Miranda with the pistol. \u201cThis way.\u201d He led her to the back of the factory and out a formerly locked corridor which led outside. To her left she saw another overhead door that led to a broken loading platform by the train tracks where a freight train rested.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He closed the door behind them and put the pistol in his pocket. \u201cSorry I hit you so hard, but I needed to sell it. Don\u2019t worry, nobody\u2019s dying tonight. Special Agent Daniel Abrams, FBI.\u201d He uncuffed her and gave her back her cuffs, holster, pistol and badge. Then he removed her phone from a pocket inside his light jacket and turned it to speaker. \u201cDid you get all that?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe did,\u201d the voice on the other end answered. \u201cTakedown team is moving in now to arrest the officers on the scene.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGood deal. The crew shows up in forty minutes with the shipping labels. I\u2019ll be going back in after I make the expected noise. Don\u2019t know where Stevens is going, but I sent you the number to his new burner phone so you can track him that way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s the go signal?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I start cursing in Spanish. How long until the gate is clear?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWaiting for confirm\u2014never mind, there it is. Gate is clear, the officers are in custody, and ours are ready to drive the vehicles out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet \u2019em know we\u2019re going to make some noise, then I\u2019ll carry Detective Leffler out for them to get her out of the line of fire. Have to make it look good for the camera.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAffirmative. State Patrol SWAT is there and waiting for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Danny looked at Miranda. \u201cWould you mind firing off three or four shots in quick succession, then a pause, then one more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda unholstered her weapon and pointed it at a pile of gravel nearby. \u201cThis will be the first time I\u2019ve fired a weapon in the line of duty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt least it\u2019s not a real life and death situation.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She fired off the shots, surprised at how long the sound echoed through the rundown buildings around them. After she holstered her weapon, Danny told her to take her jacket off. \u201cThis is the hard part,\u201d he said, \u201cyou need to play dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He draped the jacket over her head and shoulders. \u201cI\u2019m going to haul you out there in a fireman\u2019s carry, then drop you into a trunk for the camera out front. Whatever you do, don\u2019t move<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After what seemed like an interminable trip bouncing over his shoulder, she felt herself being set into a trunk and heard the lid closing over her. Without seeing who was there, she worried that it might be a setup between Danny and the cops. After all, she hadn\u2019t seen a badge; then again, if was undercover he wouldn\u2019t be carrying one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had removed the jacket and was still considering the options when the car came to a stop. The fact that he left her weapon in her holster made her feel a little better about her chances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before she could decide whether to draw it in the cramped space of the trunk, the lid popped up and an officer in a State Patrol SWAT uniform offered a hand to her. \u201cCome on out, Leffler. Jace Mitchell. Pleased to meet you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda accepted his help and climbed out of the trunk. Aside from two ambulances and their attendant EMTs, she and the SWAT officer were alone. \u201cJace, Miranda. Where\u2019s the rest of the team?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHeading back to assist in the big arrest. FBI took the officers to Federal booking in the county lockup, along with the desk sergeant.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about Stevens?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jace shrugged. \u201cHe\u2019s being tracked, and his burner phone is being monitored. The longer he thinks everything is okay, the better. He\u2019s only a small part of this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA small part? He\u2019s bringing in half a million counterfeit Adopt-a-Plush toys every month, and he\u2019s a small part<\/em>?!\u201d Miranda\u2019s head throbbed and her chin felt like it was swollen. \u201cTell that to my niece who was heartbroken when the Adopt-a-Plush her mother bought at the mall was a fake and she couldn\u2019t get an adoption certificate online.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a small part, in that he\u2019s just one supplier of counterfeit goods to American Joy Distributors, LLC. Tonight, all their operations in eleven ports and fourteen cities are being closed down. The big fish, though, is whoever is handling the bulk sales to legitimate vendors and trafficking the shipping crew. Thirty-one people whose passports are being withheld while they get shipped around from job to job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTonight, it\u2019s toys; last night it was shoes and purses.\u201d Jace caught her gaze. \u201cI\u2019ve been working with these FBI guys on this for two years. State Patrol thought we might<\/em> have enough to go after one of your guys and try to flip him, but your sergeant just handed them all to us on a platter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Miranda deflated. \u201cI just wanted to stop a counterfeiter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIn a way, you did\u2026or you helped, anyway. If you hadn\u2019t called it in, we wouldn\u2019t have known for sure who in your department is in their pocket. It\u2019s your lucky night. Stevens promoted Dan to be his righthand man last week after his previous lieutenant was picked up on unrelated charges. If we hadn\u2019t already been in place to move in, or if anyone else in Stevens\u2019 organization had been there, you\u2019d probably be dead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, lucky,\u201d she said. She touched her chin, eliciting a wince.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave the EMTs check you out,\u201d Jace said. \u201cYou got your noggin rocked, and Abrams looks like he packs a mean punch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat he does, Jace\u2026that he does.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write about a plan that goes wrong, for the better. available at Reedsy Months of planning, investigation, and surveillance \u2014 much of it skirting on the thin edges of the law \u2014 were about …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[225,214,210,209],"class_list":["post-2439","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-crime","tag-drama","tag-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-Dl","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2439","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2439"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2439\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2440,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2439\/revisions\/2440"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2439"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2439"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2439"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}