Chapter Fifteen of the Story

Jerin stepped off the curb and strode confidently to the van across the road, Sherlock at his heels. He had tried to leave the dog home, but she had burst out of his apartment the second he had opened the door. When he tried to get her to go back in, the dog refused.
They had showed up at the Riley’s residence bearing Starbucks ground coffee. Jerin knew better than to ask Benjamin for a favor in the middle of the night without bringing gifts. The man had handed his fake ID and gratefully accepted the coffee. Before closing the door, he had said, “Jerin, you get Elliot out of there alive, okay?” Jerin had promised, so he had closed the door.
Now, all he had to do was convince the driver of the van he was a member of Serpent’s inner circle. He really hoped his night visitor wasn’t leading him into a trap. He patted his pocket to reassure himself. Taking a deep breath, Jerin approached the driver’s window.
“Good evening.”
The man inside squinted at him. “Who’re you?” He slurred his words slightly, making Jerin wonder if he had been drinking too much.
He decided annoyance would be a good tactic here. “What? You mean you don’t know who I am?” The man squinted at him, and his companion leaned over. When they both shook their heads, Jerin frowned at them. “Have you been drinking on the job? I’m Jack Kenneth.”
Both men stared at him in surprise, then the driver narrowed his eyes. “I’m gonna need ta see some kinda identification.”
Jerin glared at both of them in irritation. “I can’t believe this.” Taking out his fake ID, he continued. “The Boss will be hearing about this.”
Both men looked terrified as they handed back the ID. “Please, sir, we were just being careful. You never know. Is there anything we can do for you?”
Jerin pretended to think for a few minutes. “I guess if you give me a lift to the base, I’ll forget about this.”
They were too happy to open the door for him and Sherlock. As the dog climbed in the cab, she received two curious looks, but neither of the men wanted to question Jack Kenneth. The first part of the plan was complete, now to get into the headquarters. Outwardly he was relaxed and confident. But inwardly he was worried. The author of the note claimed he wouldn’t have trouble with that part, but Jerin was worried. If the guard recognized him, or either of the men mentioned he was riding with them, he’d be in deep trouble.
As the truck pulled up to the gate, Jerin felt his heart rate increase. He might have done something like this many times, but that didn’t mean he was perfectly relaxed. It only meant he appeared perfectly relaxed.
The guard stepped up to the driver’s window. “Hey Murray. Whatcha got?”
“Just that shipment of cocaine. How’s everything here?”
The man glanced back towards the rows of warehouses. “I dunno. There’s something going on in the main building. The Boss dragged that Russian assassin out of bed a little while ago. You know he only does that when he wants him to shoot someone.”
The driver leaned out the window. “Yeah, what’s up with that? How come he outsources for an assassin? Why doesn’t he just use a good ol’ American hit-man? I mean, come on. He’s givin’ jobs Americans could use to a Russian. What’s up with that?”
“I know, right?”
Jerin cleared his throat. All this talk about Zann Kolzak about to shoot someone was worrying him sick. He had to get there before the assassin hurt her.
“Oh, right.” The driver sat back in his seat. “I’ll see you later, Borris. I gotta get this stuff into one of the warehouses.”
The guard waved him through, and Jerin let out a sigh of relief. After thanking the men and promising not to mention anything to the Boss, he strode quickly to the shadows. Crouching, he pulled out his Smith and Wesson and cocked it.
“Alright, Sher,” he whispered. “Stick close to me. Help me out if we get into trouble, but make sure to stay out of my line of fire. Also, give me a warning if you hear anyone coming, okay?”
He wasn’t sure if the dog understood what he was saying, but she gave a small woof and a solemn look.
“Right, let’s go.”
Melting into the shadows, they slipped along the warehouses’ walls. After they had gone a little ways, a rumbled reverberated deep in the dog’s chest. Putting a hand on her collar, he pressed himself up against the wall. A man toting a semi-automatic strode by, completely unaware of the man or the dog. Jerin was very glad Sherlock had insisted she go along. He ruffled her ears. “Good girl. Keep those ears perked.”
In response, the dog lifted her ears in the attention position. He chuckled and motioned for her to follow. There were nearly to the main warehouse when a gun shot rang out. Jerin’s heart stopped beating. They were too late.

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Oh noes!!Jerin's toooo slow!! *is crying* I really like this story, yes I does. I was telling my brother about it, and he said, "Oh, so you've got this all planned out in your head, huh? Sounds cool." That made me happy. Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me through it all, and to siblings and parents who were willing to take a deep breath and read it. I love you guys!
Interesting thing... hmm... So, I keep dreaming about my characters. It's a fact of writing. It happens to authors all the time. Anyway, Zann has taken to calling me "Alex." It's really annoying as people are not allowed to call me anything related to Alexandra. They MUST call me Alexandra. But, one doesn't argue with an assassin. Plus, it was either that or "Sasha" which is a Russian nickname for my name. Anyway, when your dream about your chars, it's like they exist, so it's easier to develope their characters. So, Zann's character changed dramatically because of dreams I've had about him--that and the advice of mah Holly. Cool, huh?