I leaned to see between the driver and passenger seats. The building was in a state of terrible disrepair with a hole in the red-tiled roof, a fallen length of grimy guttering slicing the view from a window. Curtains hung tattered and filthy, and paint peeled on the once-yellow front door.
“Dogs, two o’clock,” Andrew said. “A lot of them, and big bastards, too.”
He was right, but they appeared to be caged—ten feet of strong diamond-shaped wire separating us from them. Theywere barking furiously at our approach; big teeth and menace, we needed to stay trapped.
“Where were the shipping containers?” I asked, unable to locate them. “When you went online.”
“Round the back,” Finn said.
The vehicle drew to a halt.
“Go guys, be safe,” Andrew said, pulling down his cap and drawing up his bandana.
Jamie and I did the same. We shared a look, a wordless confirmation that we had each other’s backs.
We got out of the vehicle, our feet crunching on the gravel. The dogs’ barking upped a notch, and then to our right we saw three guys rounding the corner of the house.
I shut the door. Hiding our backup inside. These heavies didn’t need to know there were more than two of us…yet.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” The smaller of the three guys marched forward, gun on show in his waistband, two full sleeves of tats, and greasy hair that hung limply to his shoulders. His face was long, the creases around his mouth deep brackets, and his chin pointed.
“We’ve got an appointment.” Jamie walked toward him, the holdall of cash in his hand.
I stuck to his side, a discreet phone connection letting the rest of Galahad know what was being said as we went out of earshot.
“What you got them up for?” Long Faced Guy, who I guessed was the boss, nodded at our bandanas.
“Don’t want a record of us being here,” Jamie said. “Not exactly legit, is it? Buying three women.” He glanced at the farmhouse. “You could have cameras for all I know. Could be a setup. I told you, I’ve done some bad shit, don’t want to go down. Would kill me not being able to get any pussy.”
Beelzebub huffed. “Or live it large in your fancy mansion by the sound of it.”
“Exactly.” Jamie shrugged. “I have standards.”
“Sure you have, Silver Spoon. And yeah, we could have cameras and you wouldn’t know.”
“Have you?”
“Nah, I’m as camera shy as you, mate.” He laughed gruffly. It held no humor.
Jamie’s attention went to the dogs.
“Big ain’t they,” Beelzebub said, his mouth curling in a nasty canine snarl that matched the dogs’. “Dobermans.”
“Yep, glad they’re in their cage.” Jamie blew out a breath.
“Only as long as I want them to be.” He held up a small gray remote control. “I can let them out any time I want with this. The press of one tiny button. And you know what, it won’t be me they’ll attack, I feed them. Dogs know what side their bread is buttered. It’ll be your throats they go for.”
“Let’s leave them be,” I said. “Pretty attached to my throat.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Beelzebub gave me the once-over with his beady gaze.
“I’m with your customer here.” I clasped Jamie’s shoulder. “He’s going to let me share his…tea party.” I nodded past the big guy to his right whose neck was wider than his head. “Where’d you keep the Alices?”
“You think I’d tell you that before I’ve seen the cash?” Beelzebub snorted then spat on the ground.
“It’s here.” Jamie held forward the worn black holdall. “All of it.”
“Good.” Beelzebub tugged the zipper and peered inside. His eyes glinted with greed as he straightened. “This way.”
