“Find him. Now!” He walked around the desk and stood in front of Tammy. “You did well bringing this to my attention,” he said to her.
She shrugged calmly. She’d worked at the club a long time, and had been involved in the world that Trent ran for even longer.
“Just figured you’d wanna know, Mr. Trent,” she replied, respectfully.
He nodded and looked at Bennett. “See she gets home safely,” he said to him.
“Sure thing,” replied Bennett, taking his cue to leave and ushering her out of the room.
After a few moments of pacing around his suite, trying to calm down and let his anger subside, he gave up and stormed out of the office to the elevator in the corridor outside. He took it down to the ground floor and walked out the front of the building, where his car was always waiting for him. He got in the back and slammed the door shut.
“Where to, Mr. Trent?” asked the driver, turning around in the front seat.
He rubbed his temples in frustration and anger. “Anywhere,” he replied. “I need a fucking drink.”
He sat back as the car drove off and looked out of the window at the lights of the city flashing by. His mind raced, and his anger boiled away just beneath the surface. He had no idea where he’d come from or why he’d resurfaced, but he was sure of one thing… Adrian fucking Hughes was a dead man walking.
14.
ADRIAN HELL
OCTOBER 3RD, 2014
08:46
I’ve left Josh working away on his idea of robbing Trent via cyberspace. I’ve gone for a stroll around town to find a breakfast bar. It’s another miserable day that’s threatening rain, but as yet has relented. I’m walking the streets, the collar on my jacket turned up, casually navigating the tail end of the morning rush hour crowds.
Last night, as we were in such a good mood after disposing of Trent’s drugs, Josh and I decided to celebrate with a few drinks, courtesy of our mini bars and room service. As a result, I’m feeling slightly delicate this morning and in urgent need of some food to make myself feel better. Josh has always been able to handle more drink than me—I think it’s a British thing. Their beer’s stronger than the stuff you get in the States, so they can down our booze like tap water.
Calling on my limited knowledge of the city from the depths of my repressed memory banks, I seem to remember there’s a nice place not far from our hotel that used to do a nice breakfast and tasty coffee, so I’m heading there to see if it’s still open.
I turn a corner and walk past a furniture store, which has a huge window displaying lots of discounted sofas and chairs and tables. For no real reason, other than it’s something to look at and occupy my mind with for a fleeting moment, I glance through the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a guy’s reflection walking behind me. He’s close, but no closer than anyone else is to anyone else at this time of a morning. But there’s something about him that’s immediately set my spider sense tingling. Something… familiar, almost.
Am I being paranoid, thinking someone’s following me? It could just be my mind playing tricks on me—after all, I’m going through a lot right now and I’m probably not thinking clearly…
I need to put my mind at ease though.
I chance one last look in the window before I pass the store and glimpse him again. He’s wearing black jeans and shoes, with a long coat, fastened, that finishes just above his knees. He has a determined expression and walks with a purpose. And he’s staring directly at me.
Okay… my first instinct was right—I’m not paranoid. I know a tail when I see one. My mind kicks into overdrive. Why am I being followed? And by who? Logic would dictate it’s one of Trent’s men, which means he’s seen the footage of me in his strip club and the game has begun... But I’m on a crowded street, and while I’m happy to get his attention, I don’t want to get anyone else’s. Not yet.
I casually put my Bluetooth earpiece in and dial Josh as I walk.
“Yo!” he says as he answers, his trademark enthusiasm and happiness even harder to stomach than normal due to my headache.
“Yo? Who says that anymore?” I ask.
“Just trying to bring it back, Boss!”
“Well, don’t—it sounded stupid in the nineties, and it sounds worse now.”
“You’re touchier than usual today… Still hung over, are we?”
“No… listen—I’m being followed.”
There’s a moment’s silence on the line.
“You sure?” he asks.
“I double-checked. Definitely a tail.”
“One of Trent’s?”
“That would be my guess, yeah.”
“Do I wanna know what you have planned?”
“I’m not gonna kill him, if that’s what you’re getting at,” I say. “But I am gonna ask him some questions when I get chance. Anything you wanna know that might help your little online robbery idea?”
“Well, I doubt we’re lucky enough to have Trent’s personal accountant following you, so there’s not much he could do for me,” he says. “But any information about how Trent’s handling you being back would be helpful.”
“Agreed.”
“Just don’t be too... y’know... shooty with your line of questioning.”
“Too shooty?”
“Yeah, not every interrogation needs a gun, remember?”
“Piss off,” I say with a smile as I hang up.
I take a quick look around. I can see the breakfast bar I’m looking for across the street… I’m so hungry, but food will have to wait. This inconsiderate asshole is getting in the way of my breakfast, and I’m not happy.
Up ahead there’s a crossing. I use it as an excuse to casually look behind me and see where my tail is, acting like I’m preparing to cross the street, like anyone else would do. I step into a small group of people and wait for the green WALK sign to appear. And just like everyone else, I instinctively look left and right. I get a good look at the guy following me, and I definitely recognize him from somewhere, but can’t place him.
He has to be one of Trent’s men... He’s trying to act as casual as I am, but he’s not very good at it. He might as well be wearing an A-board and ringing a bell, advertising his services as a talentless thug for hire with no sense of discretion.
I cross over and continue up the other side of the street. I see an alleyway between two sandwich bars on my right. It’s reasonably wide, and has trashcans piled up on either side belonging to each establishment. There are puddles on the ground and graffiti on the walls. Both doors leading into the kitchen areas of each building are open.
I make a snap decision and turn down the alley. It seems to lead right through to the street one block over, running parallel to me, so it won’t have looked too suspicious—just another pedestrian taking another shortcut. I speed up a little, in an effort to force my tail to break his not-so-subtle cover so he can keep up. My plan is to lure him farther into the alley, then stop and spin around suddenly and grab him.
Simple, but effective. The element of surprise is a powerful tool.
I’m over halfway into the alley, so I think now’s as good a time as any… I take one last step and spin quickly on the balls of my feet, doing a quick one-eighty and stopping in a loose fighting stance.
But I’m alone.
Huh…
Maybe I am getting paranoid in my old age...
I wait another thirty seconds, to make sure, then turn around again to head back out of the alley at the other side. I’ll just double back around the block and go into the breakfast bar, like I originally intended.
I turn into a powerful right punch that hits me squarely in the face. The impact, coupled with the shock, sends me staggering backward. I eventually lose my balance and drop to one knee.
What the hell was that?
I look up and see the man I figured was following me. He must’ve carried on past the alley and sprinted around to the other side. He doesn’t even look out of breath�
�� His face is calm and expressionless.
I slowly get back to my feet. He stands his ground but keeps a respectable distance. I dust myself down and stare at him.
“That was your free shot,” I say. “You go to hit me again and I’ll break you in half.”
He regards me silently for a moment, before speaking in a heavy East Coast accent.
“You’re just like he described,” he says with a cocky smile. “Maybe a bit smaller.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You must really be sick of breathing,” I say.
“Save your threats. I’m not an enemy.”
“So why did you hit me? Who are you?” I ask, reaching behind me and taking a Beretta out of my holster, holding it loose and obvious by my side. “And, before you say anything, please be aware that, to avoid getting shot, you need to make your answer phenomenally good...”
His eyes flick between mine and my gun. He obviously knows who I am, which means he knows his life depends on what he says next.
“My name’s not important,” he says, remaining impressively calm. “But who I work for is. I came here to hire you.”
“I already have a job,” I reply with a shrug. “Take a ticket like everyone else.”
“I appreciate that your services are in demand, but my employer is an old acquaintance of yours, and he’s willing to pay top dollar for your services, as a gesture of goodwill.”
I frown. An old acquaintance?
“Who do you work for?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.
The man smiles and takes out his phone, dialing a number. When it starts ringing, he hands it to me.
“See for yourself,” he says.
I reluctantly take the phone from him. “Hello?”
“Hello, Adrian. It’s Jimmy Manhattan.”
My eyes go wide with surprise for a split second, and I silently curse myself for letting any emotion slip out.
“So, you’re not dead then?” I ask, quickly composing myself.
“As observant as ever,” replies Manhattan. “I always said you were smarter than you look.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to offer you a job.”
“We’ve been down that road before,” I say, “and it didn’t end particularly well for either of us. So, if it’s all the same, you can feel free to fuck off.”
The line goes silent and, in front of me, Manhattan’s man goes tense.
“Will you at least hear my proposal?” he asks me, finally.
I look at his man, who’s eyeballing me and trying to look menacing. I take a deep breath and sigh. I must be crazy…
“You’ve got thirty seconds,” I say. “Then I’m hanging up this phone and killing your guy.”
The guy relaxes and takes a step back, increasing his already respectful distance.
“That’s fair,” replies Manhattan. “Tell me, where exactly are you right now?”
I see no reason to lie—as far as he’s concerned, I’m just doing a job.
“In an alleyway in the center of Pittsburgh.”
“I’m in my hotel suite at The Carrington, over in Allentown.”
I fail to hide my surprise for a second time, and I’m thankful Manhattan isn’t here to see he’s caught me off-guard again.
“What are you doing in Pennsylvania,” I ask, unable to suppress my growing curiosity.
“I’m currently taking over the city,” he replies, quite matter-of-factly. “I’ve set up on my own; I’m eager to distance myself from any former association with the Pellaggio’s—something I’m sure you of all people can appreciate.”
“Probably the smartest thing you’ve done since I’ve known you,” I agree.
“Before I tell you the details of the job, I wanna skip ahead to how it benefits you.”
“Spare me the sales pitch, Jimmy. I’m not doing a job for you.”
“Humor me,” he says. “Hopefully, with your help, in a few days I will have total control of this city. I have a considerable amount of assets already at my disposal, and that is increasing with each day that passes. I will be kingpin in this state, Adrian.”
“Go on,” I say, intrigued. I’m not about to say anything to him, but given my reasons for being in town and what I know of the kingpins already in business, Manhattan suddenly throwing his hat in the ring may just make things a bit more entertaining.
“The way I see it, me and you are square,” he continues.
“Oh, are we? How you figure that?”
“You saved my life,” he says. “That cancels out all the slights against me in the last year or so.”
I sigh heavily down the phone, resisting the urge to argue the finer points of who slighted who. “Fine,” I say. “So we’re best friends—why would that make any difference to my life?”
“I’m sure it won’t do you any harm to have someone in my position as an ally... Certainly not in your line of work. I have a lot of resources that you may find helpful.”
He has a point. I’ll give him that. I don’t actively associate myself with people like Manhattan, as it’s bad for business. But on the other hand—and I’m sure Josh would agree—having a pet gangster isn’t the worst idea, especially under the circumstances. Same reason we keep a relationship with GlobaTech—every now and then, it’s nice to have some back up.
“But you’re not in that position yet, are you?” I point out. “That’s what you need me for.”
“Exactly. You help me now, I’m sure I can return the favor somehow.”
‘What do you want?’
“There’s a businessman here who is more reluctant to succumb to new ownership than other people have been. I think your particular brand of persuasion would prove most effective.”
“So you want him removed?”
“Just name your price.”
I think about it for a minute… I think about everything he’s said. I obviously don’t trust the old prick as far as I can throw him, but... But maybe I could use him. If he’s telling the truth, and he now effectively runs Allentown, I could use his help taking down Trent. It’s unlikely he’s anywhere near Trent’s level, but I could definitely use what he has.
“Lemme think about it,” I say.
“Excellent. You won’t regret it, Adrian. I’ll be in touch.”
He hangs up, leaving me standing in an alleyway with one of his men, holding a phone. I click it off and throw it the man, who catches it clumsily and stares at me.
“If I see you following me again, I’ll kill you,” I say, before turning and walking off, back down the alley and toward my hotel.
I should probably talk to Josh.
09:11
“You’re shitting me?” asks Josh.
We’re in his hotel room. His laptop and various other pieces of equipment are scattered across his bed, and he’s pacing around his room as I sit, patiently, in one of the chairs by his window. He’s been doing a lot more pacing than usual—almost as much as I do when I’m feeling agitated or when I’m thinking. It’s probably isn’t the best time to point out he’s becoming more like me every day...
“Nope,” I say.
“Has he heard of Trent?”
“Doesn’t look that way,” I say with a shrug. “There’s no way he’d talk about taking over the state if he had.”
“Jesus... And what are you thinking?”
“Honestly? I think having him on our side for the time being maybe isn’t as sickening an idea as it sounds. Keep your friends close, an’ all that.”
“But getting in bed with Manhattan...? That’s dangerous ground, Adrian. We can’t trust him.”
“I know,” I say, with an almost sympathetic smile. “But ask yourself, what harm would it do, compared to how it would benefit us going up against Trent?”
Josh paces some more in silence, then moves a small, hand-held radio on the end of his bed out of the way so he can sit down.
“Fair point,” he says, reluctantly.
I stand and look out of the window. Li
ght rain has started to fall, but it looks worse than it is because the wind’s picked up. It’s been threatening for a couple of days, and I suspect it’ll get worse before it gets better, judging by the color of the clouds.
I smile at the fact the weather is serving as a metaphor for my week.
“As always, Josh,” I say, turning to look at him, “we both have to agree one hundred percent on it before we do anything.”
“I know,” he says with an appreciative smile.
“Look, just look into his claims of domination over Allentown—see if there’s any truth to it. If there is, we maybe look at pitching our tent in his camp, for now. Agreed?”
Josh stands and nods. “Agreed.”
I turn and look back out of the window one last time. I hope this is the right move. We could both get burned if I’m wrong.
15.
MEANWHILE…
09:04
Jimmy Manhattan hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. In the corner of the room, Tarantina sat reading a newspaper, which he promptly put down when the call finished.
“What he say?” he asked.
“He said he’d think about it,” replied Manhattan. “But I’m confident he’ll see the benefit of assisting us in this matter.”
“And who exactly is this guy again?”
“He’s a very talented, and a very dangerous individual. I’ve had dealings with him in the past, and he’s always proved very... resourceful. I’d rather have him working with me than against me. I’ve learnt from experience to pick my battles.”
“Jeez, he sounds like a real piece of work...”
“He is,” confirmed Manhattan. “And if he agrees to it, I fully intend advertising the fact that Adrian Hell will be carrying out the hit for us. Then, our enhanced reputation, coupled with the mere threat of having him being sent after you, will deter anyone from even thinking about going up against us in the future. Nobody need know it was a one-time deal.”
Tarantina nodded. “So, what now?” he asked.
One Last Bullet: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 3) Page 9
