Reed shook his head miserably. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry?” Heinrich sat up and waved his hands around the room. “You hear that, boys? He’s sorry. He’s ever so fucking sorry. Well, I guess that means everything’s just A-fucking-okay then, doesn’t it?”
Reed was shivering with fear now, eyes closed, tears pouring down his cheeks.
“Please, Chief, she shot me. I couldn’t go after her.”
Heinrich looked at the wound on Reed’s back. Leaning down, he pulled the cloth away from a deep groove obviously carved by a bullet. Reed hissed in pain, and the wound started bleeding again.
“Really, Reed?” Heinrich held one of his hands up so Reed could see the two half-missing fingers. “I’ve fought whole battles with worse than that. So have you, for that matter. This is a fucking scratch.”
“Chief, please, I’m sorry. I know I fucked up…”
“Oh, don’t do that,” Heinrich said. “Don’t beg. It’s not a good color on you.”
He paced up and down the room a couple of times, struggling to rein in his temper. He wanted to kill Reed. Wanted to bury his thumbs in the man’s eye sockets until they popped like swollen grapes. But that would be counterproductive. He knew, intuitively, that maintaining his men’s loyalty was more important now than ever. He was going to punish Reed, that was certain, but he had to do it in a way that would bind his men closer rather than drive them away. He stopped pacing and took a deep, steadying breath.
“Reed, I understand you were just following orders. Blowing the grab, I could forgive. That wasn’t you. That was Thomas. I could even forgive you for not taking out the girl if you had at least tried. But you didn’t. You ran. And not only did you run, Reed, you tried to hide from me. For fuck’s sake, did you really think I wouldn’t find you? In my city?”
Heinrich sat back down and leaned close again. “You should have come straight here, Reed. You should have come straight to me and confessed your sins. You would have been punished, but I would have let you live.”
“Chief…”
“I can’t let this go Reed. What you did constitutes not only failure, but cowardice and desertion. And you know what the penalty is for desertion. I’m sorry, Reed. I really am. But I can’t let this one go.”
He turned and nodded to Locke. The skeletal man grinned savagely and began unlocking the hatch.
“NO! NO, PLEASE!”
Reed’s shouting stopped abruptly as Maru cinched his massive arms around the man’s neck and lifted him from his chair. Reed bucked and struggled, but it was no use. Maru was twice his size and four times as strong.
Locke’s eyes burned feverishly as he pulled open the hatch. Maru walked Reed to the edge, leaned over a bit, and dropped him into the darkness below. Heinrich took a small flashlight from his pocket and stepped closer. The smell was atrocious. If Heinrich were not so accustomed to it, he might have gagged. The odor rolled through the room like a noxious cloud, causing the men to cover their mouths and noses.
Heinrich clicked the button and aimed a thin beam of light down into the pit below. At first, he only saw Reed. The man lay on the filthy ground, scrambling to get his feet under him. And then, quick as a striking snake, a gray body leapt from the darkness and landed on him. Two others followed, and the screaming began.
“Jesus,” Maru said. “Have they gotten bigger?”
“I believe they have.” He backed away and motioned to Locke. “Close it.”
Locke did so. Maru and Heinrich stepped away. The big Maori waved a hand in front of his face.
“Christ that fucking stin-”
BOOM
Both men jumped at the sound and spun toward the hatch. There was a moment of silence before another tremendous, metallic bang roared through the room. This time, the hatch shuddered and came up a few inches.
“Lock it down!” Heinrich screamed.
Two men jumped on top of the hatch to hold it while a third grabbed the lock and looped it through a pair of steel rings. The lock clicked into place, but the booming continued for nearly a full minute, each blow making the hatch shudder and the lock rattle violently. Finally, there was one last strike, and then silence. The men on the hatch waited another minute before starting to get up, but Heinrich stopped them with a gesture. Another minute passed. Another. Nothing else happened.
“Mother of Christ,” Maru said quietly. “Was that thing jumping?”
“Yes, I believe it was.”
No one spoke for a while. Finally, Heinrich waved his hands for everyone’s attention.
“Alright, men. Bring it in.”
His men did as commanded, eyes wide, hands tight on their rifles.
“Let’s all just…take a breath here, okay? Listen, I know that was a shock, but let’s put it into perspective. This is what we’ve been working for, right?”
He looked around. The men slowly emerged from their stupor and began nodding, hands loosening on their weapons.
“Right. And right now, we’ve got a lot of heat coming down on us. Nothing we can do to stop it. It’s gonna happen. But what we can do is give the feds something more important to worry about. What we need…”
Heinrich paused for effect. All eyes were raptly watching him. He smiled.
“…is a distraction. A fucking big one. And we’ve got just the thing.”
He turned to Maru. “We’re moving up the timetable.”
“Right, Chief.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Gabriel,
BSC Headquarters
It took some convincing, but I managed to persuade Eric, Great Hawk, and the rest of them to follow me to my office.
We sat in one of the conference rooms on the second floor of the main building. I made a call on the desk phone, and a minute later my secretary brought in coffee and pastries. The sight and smell of the goodies on the tray calmed the men down and got them to stop talking for a little while. I found my own appetite and attacked the pastries and washed them down with two cups of coffee. After we had all eaten, the mood was decidedly less militant.
Looking around the table, I saw a murderer’s row of combat veterans. First was Eric and the Hawk, two men I would take with me into hell. The others were some old friends I had not seen in years.
Ethan Thompson had leaned down some and had grown a beard. It made him look older. Now in his thirties, and a veteran of six years in the Army’s First Reconnaissance Expeditionary, his dark brown hair had a peppering of gray in it and there were crow’s feet around his eyes that were not there when I first met him.
Sitting next to him was Isaac Cole. The good-natured warrior was as gigantic as ever, standing six-foot-four and weighing in around two hundred and seventy pounds. His head was shaved, and his dark brown scalp gave off a muted glow under the conference room’s fluorescent lights. I was happy to see that his big voice and jovial spirit were as undiminished as his muscle mass.
Last, and in my opinion definitely least, was Derrick Holland. I can’t say I have ever liked the man very much. He’s small, standing only five-foot-seven and weighing maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. Yet, despite his diminutive size, he always seems to think he’s the biggest dog in the room and tries to prove it by constantly running his mouth. To make things worse, he has a shrill Boston accent that makes my Kentucky-born ears hurt. But for all that, I have to admit I hold a certain grudging respect for Holland. What he lacks in social graces he makes up for with courage and fighting skill. Kind of like a Chihuahua with a machine gun.
After everyone finished eating, I decided to try a little small talk.
“I hear your family moved out from North Carolina,” I said to Thompson.
He smiled. “Yeah, last year.”
“How’s it been?”
“Good. Shit, better than good. It’s everything I hoped for when I joined the Army. We’ve got a decent home in a safe place now. Andrea’s thrilled with it.”
“And your little boy? How’s he?”
“Grow
ing fast. Getting hard to keep up with him.”
“You miss the Army at all?”
“No, not really. Hell, all my best buddies are still with me. And Derrick.”
The ex-soldiers all laughed except Holland.
“Ha, ha, asshole,” Derrick drawled. “Very fuckin’ funny. I’ll remember that the next time I save your fuckin’ life.”
Thompson grinned at him. “Come on, man. You know I love you.”
“Eat shit and die.”
Another round of laughter.
“What about you, Cole? Anything new? Find a nice girl yet?”
The big man leaned back in his chair. “Shit, man, I find a nice girl every other night. Got at least one in every town.”
“He’s full of shit,” Holland said. “He’s been dating this English chick back in Hollow Rock. Fucking hardcore, man. Girl’s got him swinging from her tea and crumpets.”
Cole glared and tried not to grin. “You just had to go and sell me out, didn’t you?”
“Just keepin’ it real, Isaac.”
“What about you, Derrick?” I asked. “Any plans to settle down?”
“Nah, man, not me. Fuckin’ just got out of the Army four months ago. Ain’t had time to find my own place, much less deal with a girlfriend.”
“I gotta admit, I never thought that would happen,” Thompson said.
“What? Me find a girl?”
“No, dumbass. You leaving the Army.”
Holland shrugged. “Easier work, better pay, and I get to pick my missions. Show me a better deal and I’ll take it.”
I glanced over at Eric and could tell something was bothering him. His smile was strained, and he was bouncing one knee up and down rapidly. Knowing he was not prone to nervous tics, I decided to see what was going on.
“Eric, can I have a word with you outside?”
He looked at me. “Sure.”
We walked out of the conference room. I shut the door behind us and led him a few feet down the hallway.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
Eric gave me a flat stare. “I got a question.”
“Okay.”
“Who are you and what did you do with Gabe?”
I frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”
He stepped close, his voice a hissing whisper. “How are you not flying off the fucking handle right now?”
“Eric…”
“No, I’m serious. Somebody just tried to kidnap your whole family. Why aren’t you out there stomping on somebody’s nuts?”
I took a long breath and chose my words carefully. “Believe me, Eric, I’m pissed. Grievously so. But you have to understand things are different here. If I run off and start busting heads, I’ll be the one who ends up in jail. And I can’t do my family a damn bit of good from behind bars.”
Eric turned away and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Then what’s the plan, Gabe? We just sit around and wait for them to try again?”
“The head of the Organized Crime Task Force is handling the investigation. I know that’s not going to make you happy, but he’s a good man. I trust him.”
“So…what, you’re just going to leave it to the feds?”
“No, of course not. But right now, I have you and your posse of ball-busters to deal with. And if I’m not mistaken, you have an appointment with Tyrel Jennings this morning. Do you not?”
“Fuck the appointment. This is personal, Gabe.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me. Agent Kaminsky is going to keep me in the loop. As soon as he has a lead for me, I’m going to follow up on it. But Eric, whatever I do, I have to do it quietly. No fireworks.”
“That’s great. Just wonderful. So, you’re going to play by the fucking rules on this one?”
“For now, yes.”
“Against a bunch of people who don’t give a flying shit about the rules?”
I let out a sigh. “Eric, I know what I’m up against. Trust me, please, this is the right play.”
At that moment, a door opened at the end of the hall. Tyrel Jennings and Hadrian Flint came through it. Both men were wearing business suits in anticipation of the morning’s meeting. I looked at Eric. He was wearing a button-down shirt, no tie, a pair of pre-Outbreak slacks, and brown dress shoes. Knowing my friend, that was the closest he ever got to boardroom wear.
Tyrel came up short and stared at Eric. “Mr. Riordan. This is a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you until ten-thirty.”
“Sorry to show up so early,” he offered a hand and Tyrel shook it. “I went to see Gabe at his house, and he insisted we come here.”
Tyrel switched his attention to me. “How are they?”
“Sabrina’s fine. Liz is taking it pretty hard.”
“I sent the STU guys as soon as I heard what happened. They still at your house?”
“Yes.”
“Any problems?”
“No. They’re doing a good job.”
Tyrel nodded. “Any word on who’s responsible?”
“I have a fairly good idea. We’ll talk later.”
Eric’s brow furrowed and his mouth opened, but Hadrian, perceptive man that he is, stepped forward and offered him a hand. “Pleasure to meet you Mr. Riordan. It’s good to finally put a face to the name.”
Eric shook the hand. “You must be the enigmatic Hadrian Flint.”
Hadrian smiled, his teeth bright white against dark black skin. “The same.”
Tyrel glanced at his watch, a wind-up model that had probably cost thousands before the Outbreak, and said, “Well, I don’t have anything scheduled right now. If you’d like to start the meeting early, Mr. Riordan, I’m game.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Hadrian, Tyrel, and Eric filed into the conference room. I took a deep breath, reminded myself that patience is a virtue, and followed them in.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gabriel,
BSC Headquarters
“This is Lincoln Great Hawk,” Eric said by way of introduction. The big Apache stood up and shook hands with Tyrel and Hadrian.
“And this is Ethan Thompson, Derrick Holland, and Isaac Cole.”
Another round of handshakes. When everyone was acquainted, we all took seats around the polished table. I sat with Tyrel and Hadrian on one side while Eric and company occupied the other.
“I wasn’t expecting so many people,” Tyrel said.
“Great Hawk and I will be handling the negotiations. These other gentlemen are being groomed for management positions, so I asked them to come along and observe. See how things get done.”
A nod. “Fair enough. Should we get started?”
“Please.”
Tyrel gestured toward me. “As Gabe has probably told you, I’m not one to stand on ceremony, and I hate speeches, so I’ll get right to the point. I’ve read your proposal, and Hadrian and I have done our due diligence. On the surface, it seems like a mutually beneficial deal. But I’d like to hear the specifics from you directly so there’s no confusion as to what we’re both getting out of this.”
Eric spread open his palms. “It’s simple, really. You have the best equipment—vehicles and armor and such—but you’re short on personnel. I have more contractors than I know what to do with, but we’re hurting for mechanized transport. What I’m proposing is I provide you with a talent pool to choose from, and you help me obtain APCs, Humvees, and trucks. If I have a contract I can’t handle, I kick it your way. If you have a client who’s not cost effective for you to help, you send them to me. To cement the deal, we both buy a five percent stake in each other’s company. That way we both have skin in the game, and we won’t be tempted to undermine one another’s business. When one of us prospers, everyone benefits.”
Tyrel nodded slowly and looked at Hadrian. “Thoughts?”
“Your proposal is certainly beneficial for both of us in the short term,” Hadrian said. “But what about the long run? Sooner or later, one of us is bound to start eating into t
he other’s market share.”
“It’s a possibility,” Eric said. “If you’re concerned about that, then let’s make the arrangement for a period certain. Say…five years.”
“And what happens after five years?”
“We renegotiate. Or not. Hard to say what the landscape will be like then. There might still be enough work to go around, or we might both be out of business.”
Tyrel chuckled. “Yeah, I doubt that.”
“So do I,” Eric said. “Either way, it’s impossible to predict how things will look that far down the road. I mean, just look at how much things have changed in the last seven years.”
Hadrian and Tyrel shared a look. Knowing them as I did, I could tell they liked what they were hearing. Recruitment was the Blackthorns’ biggest obstacle to expansion, and Eric was offering an easy, inexpensive solution that benefitted all parties involved. That said, I know how Eric thinks, and I knew there was no way he would be satisfied with a simple strategic partnership.
“So what happens,” I asked, “once you have your transports and the infrastructure to support them? At that point you won’t need us anymore, and Centurion National is far more diversified than BSC. In five years’ time, your net worth could be triple what it is now.”
Eric shifted in his seat. “That’s true. But what I won’t have is your connections, your client list, or these two guys.” Eric waved a finger back and forth between Hadrian and Tyrel.
“You will if you buy us out.”
Eric frowned at me. I had told him to expect me to represent BSC’s interests at this meeting, and I hoped he would not be too upset with me for putting him on the spot.
“Well,” Eric said, “BSC is not a publicly traded company. Buying you out is only an option if Tyrel and Hadrian offer to sell. And something tells me that’s not going to happen.”
“No,” Tyrel said. “It’s not.”
“Exactly. Which is why we’re all here today. Look, gentlemen, this can go one of two ways. We can compete and lose money and make life difficult for one another, or we can work together for everyone’s benefit. Personally, I’m not looking to make any enemies in this city. I’d rather we all prosper together.”
Surviving The Dead | Book 9 | War Without End Page 9
