BLOOD TIES (Decklan Jennings Thriller Book 1), Philip Duncan [bill gates book recommendations TXT] 📗

but stayed seated so he didn't come off aggressive. Just as he suspected, it was one of Vladimir's guys. It had to be. He looked just like the rest of them. Only this guy was much larger than the two guys they took out. This one looked like a silverback gorilla in a suit. Decklan needed to tread lightly because he didn’t want to start anything, especially inside a strip club where his only backup was Langley, who was busy getting another drink.

Decklan finally replied to the giant, “I’m an old friend of his and I heard he was in town for a while and I just wanted to catch up.”

He couldn’t tell if the guy bought his story or not.

“Friends from where?” the guy asked.

“We did a couple of jobs together a few years back,” Decklan answered.

“What jobs? I don’t remember you from any jobs Vladimir has done.”

“Like I said, it was years ago. Perhaps you weren’t around yet.”

He was typically able to stay cool under pressure, something he learned in the forces, but this whole night had him off his game. He was surprised that he had been able to lie his way through to this point without shit hitting the fan.

“I’ve been around for a while. I would remember you,” the guy said.

“I guess I just got one of those faces that’s easy to forget. No worries, though, I will just catch up with him another day,” Decklan said as he attempted to stand up so he could get back to Langley, his only backup in the entire place.

Unfortunately, this guy had other plans as he put his ape-like hand on Decklan’s shoulder and forced him back down into his seat.

You have got to be kidding me. First a tiny stripper and now a gorilla of a man, both forcing me to do something against my will. This night sucks.

“Here comes your friend now,” the guy said, looking over at Vladimir as he appeared from the private hallway. “Let’s go have a chat and see if you are telling the truth. You better hope for your sake that you are.”

Decklan finally got eyes on Vladimir and he could now confirm that he was exactly who they saw the other day. This was the head honcho. Mr. Ivanov in the flesh.

Only a few minutes had passed but so much had managed to unfold. Langley was just starting to make his way back to the table when he saw Decklan being escorted over to a different table. Vladimir’s private table.

Oh shit, this isn’t good, he thought. But he couldn’t risk just running over there and intervening. Unfortunately, Decklan was on his own for this one.

“Sit,” the guy said. “You wait here and don’t move.”

Decklan had no intentions of moving because he knew any situation he could imagine would result in him and Langley being grossly outnumbered, and it would run the risk of getting the police involved, which he absolutely didn’t want.

Vladimir took a seat directly across from Decklan. Neither one spoke at first, and Decklan wasn’t going to be first.

With a heavy Russian accent, Vladimir finally spoke.“What can I do for you, my friend?”

Decklan tried his best to keep his composure so he didn’t appear nervous or suspicious.

“It’s been a long time,” Decklan replied, hoping that being polite might help him. “I heard you were in town for work.”

“Excuse my curiosity, but my memory isn’t as sharp as it once was. Where exactly do we know each other from?” Vladimir asked.

“We did a few jobs together years ago. It’s been a while, so I completely understand you not remembering me.”

“Ah, I see,” Vladimir replied. “Please, do refresh my memory.”

Decklan could see the skepticism in Vladimir's face. He was hoping for one last Hail Mary lie to keep his cover intact. His life could depend on it. These guys were serious trouble and if the corpse rolled up in his living room rug was telling the truth, then one wrong word could end in disaster.

“It was probably five or six years ago. You recruited some local guys to help move your product and I was one of those guys. You found out I was ex-special forces so you put me in charge of a couple of deals.”

Vladimir kept his eyes directly on him like two daggers waiting for an opportunity to strike. “You were special forces?” Vladimir asked. “So was I. Spetsnaz, Russian special forces. What’s a guy with your skill set doing running drugs?”

Somehow, Decklan felt more relaxed now that he was talking to another special forces soldier, even if it was with the Russians. But this feeling was brief.

“I assume the same reason anyone does, including you,” Decklan said. “I needed the money after I got out. It was hard fitting back into society and even harder finding steady work. All I’ve ever known was the military.”

Vladimir’s demeanor completely changed. His tone went from direct and cautious to light and welcoming.

“Yes, my friend. I know exactly what you mean. Guys like us aren’t normal. We can’t fit in with the rest of the world. We have to find our own way.” he said.

Then he whistled at one of the girls to come over. “Sweetheart, bring us your best vodka; we are celebrating.”

Decklan was confused and had no idea what to think. Whatever he did or said apparently worked and he could feel his blood pressure starting to come back down to earth. He looked back over to the bar to see if Langley was still there, and he was. He hadn’t moved a muscle. He was waiting and watching, prepared to jump in if needed.

The girl came back with the vodka and Vladimir started pouring drinks for Decklan and himself.

Vladimir held up his glass. “Cheers, my friend.”

Decklan knew better than to refuse a drink from this guy. He could handle just one and then he would find a way to get the hell out of that booth.

“Cheers,” Decklan replied. “But I think it’s time for me to