AV’s short story

Weels

The 1940 shoe business repair was not booming one might say. In fact it was plummeting – but not for Seth Weel. Although his shoe repair shop was close to going under, he was not as worried because of a small job on the side as an under cover police officer. This was a good paying job; it was enough to pay the rent of a modest New York apartment and to feed a family of four.

The door creaked as I entered the employee only’s room, and the familiar greeting of “WEELS!” as soon as I was in the doorway. I replied just as fast, “Big Dan.” Big Dan’s front, The Baritones, was a four star restaurant in the heart of New York City. Baritones was more like a two star restaurant but no one wanted to offend Big Dan… no one.

It had been the same routine for the past three years. Go in with microphone shoes that I made myself. The reel to reel tapes I used had four hours of recording time, and problems would arise if I were there for five or six hours. I didn’t dare take more than one tape. I knew that if I were ever caught that I it was lights out for me.

The mic was concealed in the toe of the shoe. Starting in the heel and moving to the front of the foot was the reel to reel tape. The tape was under a thick sole, but the mic was behind mesh for the reason that the mic was useless under all the rubber. This was an uneasy subject to navigate with big Dan and his Mafia friends. I told them that I had very bad foot oder. some how they bought it.

Today, I drove Big Dan to a old warehouse where we were to stay for as long as it took for Big Dan’s client to show up. It was my understanding that the information was a list of moles in the mafia. This worried me because that meant my name was on that list and there was was mole in the police – a powerful mole at that. l knew that I needed to leave, but l also knew that l needed to get evidence. l had to stay. Big Dan always carried a gun; that made it even more dangerous because he would shoot his mother if he found out that she was going to turn him in. After about two hours, to my surprise, a police major came stumbling in as if he had been tortured and then sent here to delver something.
That something was in his trembling hands – a blood speckled piece of paper. He lurched over to where Big Dan was standing. He barely made it to Big Dan before he collapsed in a heap on the concrete floor. High above us a man unzipped a duffel bag and extracted three things: a long black tube, a small black box, and a gun. The gun was a Barretta M95 sniper rifle; the black tube was a navy silencer; and the black box was a three round magazine. A few minuets later and,with a click a pop and a ping, that was the end for the major.

As soon as the hole in the major’s head appeared, I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder, not looking back to see the list of names crumple in of Big Dan’s hand. This proved to be an almost fatal mistake. Because with the other hand, he reached for his gun. It was sheer luck that the major’s head caught the bullet instead of my back. As soon as that shot went of and I realized that I was not dead, l dropped the major and ran. l ran thought the huge double doors out in to the sunlight.

As I saw the getaway van, three bullet holes appeared in the van’s side. l opened the door and there again was the all too familiar sound of a gun shot. But this time it was not followed by the ping of metal or the breaking of glass. This time it was a pif, the sound of a bullet hitting my leg. And less then a split second later the pain reached up my leg bellowing into my brain like a charging bull. The pain was excruciating. As l sat down in the driver’s seat, l saw my chance. Big Dan was loading his gun.  I turned the van around and squealed out of the parking lot.

Now, l was faced with another task, keeping consciousness for the thirty mile trip to the police station. With every heart beat, it was harder and harder to keep my grip on conciseness. l had ten more miles to the station when l blacked out. The next time I woke up it to the sound of sirens.  I must have blacked out again moments later. Two months later l puled out of coma in the hospital surrounded by my friends and the Chief of Police. Two weeks later l was fully recuperated and found out that Big Dan and his group of thugs had be captured. l was driven in a limo to the front of city hall where it seemed like the whole city turned out. l was driven to the main platform where the Chief was to give me a the keys to the city.

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