“Fuck! Forget it!”
“I’m gonna have so much anxiety not knowing what you wanted to talk about now.” Roger pouted. “This is super rude.”
Mickey stomped away, asking loudly, “Are we ready to go?”
“Ready,” Crybaby confirmed.
“Yeah, ready.” Duncan grimaced, wringing his hands. “So very ready.”
“Good luck,” Cold said with a stern nod. “Stay alert at all times, and don’t forget what you’re there for. I’ll be waiting for you at the safe house with Alistair.”
“We don’t need luck. We got the plan.” Mickey gave a small salute. “See ya in a few, Boss.”
They loaded up in the van with Crybaby behind the wheel and headed over to the plant. The work permit got them through the gate, and they parked near the loading docks. Each one was numbered and had a ramp that led to a door beside the bay where the trucks would back up to unload.
Mickey and Crybaby grabbed some of the repair equipment from the back of the van to help maintain their cover, and they all went up the ramp of dock number three. The workers didn’t pay them any mind, and the supervisor on duty directed them over to a large walk-in cooler.
From here, they could see the open bay door. There were dozens of pallets packed high with various meat products, all shrink-wrapped and labeled. A forklift was parked nearby, and Roger checked to see if the keys were in it as they walked by.
Judging by the way his face lit up, they were, but Crybaby gave him a very disapproving glare so he backed off.
Mickey dropped the equipment he’d brought and leaned against the side of the cooler. His body felt light, springy with the anticipation of what was to come.
Now all they had to do was wait.
Crybaby stood a few feet away, digging through the tools and making a show of pretending to work on the external AC unit. Duncan fluttered around, trying to help and look busy.
Roger leaned up against the cooler next to Mickey, saying cheerfully, “This place fuckin’ reeks. It’s very unique. Like rotten cheesy ass.”
“I used to live around here.” Mickey shrugged. “You get used to it.”
“The fuck you do.” Roger snorted. He looked over at Duncan and Crybaby, watching them mess with the unit for a few moments. “I wanted to thank you. For earlier.”
“What?” Mickey frowned. “For spankin’ you in the bar?”
“No!” Roger paused. “Okay, also that, but I meant the other thing. For getting all up in Salvatore’s face for me. You were like a bald knight in shining gay bar.”
“This should really fall under the ‘let’s talk about it later’ category.”
“This is later. Or do you only wanna talk about your mysterious thing, huh? We can’t talk about my thing too?”
“Not now. For the love of fuckin’ God.”
“You’re being super unfair right now.”
“We can talk about all the damn things you want! Butlater!”
“Truck is here,” Crybaby hissed under her breath, “so maybe you two lovebirds can fight some other time.”
“We’re good.” Mickey was instantly focused, watching the truck back up slowly into the bay and park.
The driver was nowhere to be seen, as expected, and the dock workers were leaving now too. In a few minutes, the whole place would be cleared out. The supervisor gave a casual wave before following the rest of the workers out of the loading area and into the plant.
Now all they had to do was wait for the Luchesi family’s men to show up, kill them, and take the guns.
Crybaby and Duncan took defensive positions near the bay door, and Mickey crouched down behind the forklift. Roger ducked out of sight by some pallets near the cooler.
Mickey heard a vehicle pulling up outside and saw the flash of headlights.
