Excerpt: The Ultimate Payback

Tom and Meg were involved in a routine transfer of criminals from HQ to Riker’s Island. “I bet you five dollars that the first song we’re gonna hear when I turn the radio on is ‘Yeah!’ by Usher.”

Meg giggled. “You’re on.” She turned on the radio and, surprisingly, Tom guessed the song right. “How the hell did you know that?”

Then, the DJ went on the air. “Alright that was Usher with ‘Yeah!’ feauring Ludacris and Lil Jon, as requested by Tom for Meg with a message: ‘Pay me my money.’ We’ll be right back with more Street Beatz only here on Hot 97.”

“Now where’s my five bucks?” Tom laughed.

“No fair!” Meg grabbed five dollars from her wallet.

Suddenly, a Hummer cut in right in front of them. “Give me the money later. Looks like we have ourselves a situation.”

Meg grabbed the radio in the car. “This is Cobra 9. There appears to be an unauthorized vehicle right in front of us. It’s a black Hummer with a-“ She couldn’t finish when the Hummer stopped in front of the convoy. “Scratch that, HQ. The unauthorized Hummer just pulled over in front of the convoy attempting to break the prisoners out. We need backup immediately!”

Tom cocked his M9. “Here we go again.” He got out of the car and opened fire on the occupants of the Hummer, the Colombian Cartel. “Freeze, motherfuckers! NYPD!”

The Colombians returned fire on Tom and Meg. “Where’s our damn backup?!” Meg yelled as she unloaded her Glock 35 on the Colombians as they try to break out an important person in their case.

Tom kept shooting at them. “Tell HQ that they’re breaking Jack Donovan and Manuel Sandoval out of the convoy.”

“How are you sure it’s them?” Meg asked.

“I saw their files. Now keep shooting!” Tom replied and managed to clip one Colombian on the shin. “We got one!”

“Ándale!” Another Colombian yelled as Jack and Manuel got on. Then, the Hummer sped off while the Colombian Tom shot was left behind.

Tom holstered his gun. “Ladies first.” He joked as he jerked his head to the Colombian.

Meg snickered as she shook her head, but her laughter ceased when she saw a bomb under the Colombian’s shirt. “Hack, we gotta go.”

“Why? Is he starting to get jealous?” Tom chuckled.

“I’m serious, Hackett.” This was one of the rare occasions that Meg called Tom by his last name. The last time it happened, they were still starting out as partners. “We have to go. That guy’s been wired to blow!”

Tom’s face turned serious as well and he opened the car door. “Get in!”

Meg rushed into the car and buckled up. Tom looked behind, set the car’s stick shift to reverse, and hit the gas. When he got enough space, he did a 180 turn and shifted to first gear. He drove as fast as he could to get away from the suicide bomber.

“Chinga tu madre, pendejos!” It wasn’t long until the bomb set off. The explosion was so powerful that the Brooklyn Bridge looked like it was hit by a giant meteor.