Outlaws, Matt Rogers [best ereader under 100 TXT] 📗

room 730 burst open, a couple of feet to his left, he was already pivoting toward it. A big guy in a chunky tactical vest came out with a Beretta handgun raised, moving so fast that the maid still hadn’t registered what was happening, but as soon as he crossed the threshold Slater was on him.

Smashed the butt of his Glock into the bridge of the guy’s nose, with a single train of thought racing through his head.

Violetta doesn’t make mistakes.

She knew.

She set you up.

43

Alonzo had passed Liam Kingsley’s number onto the California muscle at some point during their encrypted email chain, so King landed at John Wayne Airport to a text message.

It came from an unknown number and arrived on his new burner phone.

I’m at the arrivals pickup area. Curbside.

King fired a text back.

Just landed. See you in 20.

He went through baggage claim, collected the small duffel that had been a hair too large for carry-on, and made his way out of the terminal. It was a warm day, far warmer than New York at this time of year. As soon as he stepped outside he upturned his face to a cloudless sky, drinking in the sun the same way a guy who’d spent most of his life on the East Coast would. He kept his face raised in full view of the arrivals pickup area. Carefree. Unfazed.

When he lowered his face and opened his eyes, a guy was standing in front of him.

Blond dreadlocked hair tied back in a thick ponytail. A tall thin frame, deeply bronzed skin. Just enough wiry muscle to look athletic. He wore a sleeveless shirt and cargo shorts, with Doc Martens on his feet. A strange combo, but he pulled it off with natural charisma. He had intensely blue eyes, and right now they were scrutinising King.

‘You know what they say,’ the guy said. ‘West is best.’

‘Are you Ryan?’

‘The one and only. Liam?’

King extended a hand, and Duke shook it.

King said, ‘I thought you would have sent one of your boys.’

‘You’re new,’ Duke said. ‘And I’m careful, brother. You never know — there might be something kinda shifty about you that one of my boys would be too stupid to pick up on. Pays to be careful.’

He winked.

‘Sure does,’ King said. ‘I can attest to that.’

Duke jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Car’s this way.’

They set off, weaving through freshly arrived passengers hunched over phones or scouring their surroundings for rental car hire signs.

Duke said, ‘Thanks for coming all this way.’

King had studied the email chain meticulously, so he knew exactly what Alonzo had and hadn’t communicated to Duke.

‘It’s no problem,’ he said. ‘You know I was planning a trip to Cali anyway.’

‘Bet it can’t hurt to make some extra cash while you’re here.’

King nodded. ‘Cash never hurt. Any way I can get it.’

‘You’re speaking my language.’

Duke led him through the car park to an open-topped khaki Jeep Wrangler with modified suspension and oversized tyres. The epitome of California cool. Duke rounded the hood and got behind the wheel, and King threw his duffel in the rear seats and got in the passenger seat. Duke was tapping away at his phone, firing off a couple of messages, but as soon as King closed his door the man fired the 4x4 to life.

King said, ‘Emerald Bay, right? That’s where you live?’

‘Yeah,’ Duke said. ‘Job’s tomorrow night, in case you forgot. You can crash with us for a night. We’ve got room.’

‘I Googled the suburb,’ King said. ‘Some of the houses I saw … figured you’d have room.’

‘I do alright.’

‘Am I ever gonna find out what the job is?’ King said, playing it off with a wry smile. ‘You know … what we’re moving.’

Duke stared for an uncomfortable amount of time. King faked squirming. It served him better for Duke to think he was the one in charge, that he controlled the narrative. Really, King could deal with awkward silences like clockwork, but a careless arms dealer from New York might not be so socially competent, so he fidgeted in his seat.

Duke said, ‘In due time. What’s the rush?’

King shrugged. ‘Couldn’t care less. Just thought it might be important.’

‘Not yet.’

Conversation petered out. Duke had yet to drive out of the parking spot. One hand was on the wheel, and his other elbow rested on the centre console. He’d twisted to face King, to size him up.

Duke reached for the keys in the ignition and twisted them back to their original position.

Killing the engine.

The silence got uncomfortable.

Duke said, ‘You’re in good shape, yeah? Hit the gym a bit? That’s not gonna cut it out here. Alright?’

King kept fake-squirming. ‘What’s the deal, man? I thought we were cool.’

‘We’re very cool,’ Duke said. ‘But I went through the dark web to find a helper for a reason, brother. I need someone I can trust absolutely.’

‘You can trust me absolutely. Swear.’

‘I know I can,’ Duke said. ‘Because if I think you’re getting untrustworthy, I might give One Police Plaza in New York an anonymous tip about a certain apartment you’re leasing on Staten Island under a false name. An apartment you’re using to stockpile guns with no serial numbers.’

King clammed up.

He used the mind body connection he’d honed in his early Black Force days to drain the colour from his face.

Duke nodded and said, ‘Yeah.’

‘How the fuck do you know that?’

Because you took Alonzo’s bait.

That’s why.

Duke said, ‘I’m good at research. That’s why you’re here, buddy. Because I have leverage on you. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding.’

‘Right,’ King said.

‘So what I’m getting at is,’ Duke said, firing the car to life again, ‘I’ll tell you what I want to tell you, when I want to tell you it. Don’t ask for more than you need to know.’

‘Got it,’ King said. ‘I’m sorry, Duke.’

‘Play by the rules, and keep your mouth shut, and you’ll get paid. No problems.’

King nodded, staring at his feet.

‘And I pay handsomely,’ Duke said.

He craned his neck to reverse out of