I stop gathering my stuff.
“There were also three cameras, best quality, the ones you find on the black market, no serial numbers, with a range of three-hundred-plus feet, impossible to locate the frequency. Plus, Lip engulfed them in flames.”
It could be Nine’s work. Keeping an eye to see if I’m actually dead. “Do you have any idea when those devices were placed in the office?”
“Nope. But it’s not the first time someone tried to fuck us over, White Death.” That’s my hitman name.
I nod. “Did Vulture give you something for me?”
“Yes.” He crumples the paper bag into a ball and throws it into the waste basket near the door.
I drop my bag on the bed and cross my arms, standing in front of him.
“I’ll give it to you if you come with me.” There’s always another angle with him.
“I’ll pass,” I easily reply.
“You never pass a job.”
“I just did.” Is he going to follow me if I don’t? I don’t want him near Sully. Not yet. Breaking both his legs would stop him.
“I just need a lookout. It’s ten fucking minutes from here. How long has it been since you killed someone?”
Too long, damn it. “I need to stop somewhere first.” Jacob is stillwaitingfor me. Maybe Domino can help me tenderize him a little. A couple of days with only moldy bread to eat will make him remember anything, and if not, making him suffer is still good to me.
Forty minutes later, I’m in a trailer park, fuck knows where. I’d call it Shitville. Domino and I are surrounded by eight fucks inside a shitty trailer.
“Lookout, my ass,” I growl at him, dodging a punch as I hit the fucker with a double kick, one in the stomach and the second in the neck. I shoot an arrow, hitting another guy in the eye, as my boots crunch down on used syringes. I lift my bow and smack a fucker in the mouth, and after he falls down, in the chest. I grab another arrow from my quiver, but I don’t have time to fire it, so I stab the last guy in the neck.
“Who was the target?” I ask Domino, who’s retrieving his tomahawk from a guy’s chest. I do the same with my arrows.
“The one you hit in the eye and this asshole.” He kicks the corpse in the shin. A moan comes from the left, and we both silence it, throwing our weapons at it—him.
“Where’s your gun?” I ask him, it would have gone much faster with bullets.
“Wanted to…diversify.” Diversify?
I take off my bloody jacket and drop it on the filthy floor. It’s an obstacle course with all the used condoms, cans, and corpses.
“Half of the hit money is mine,” I declare, taking pics of the two corpses as proof.
“Thirty percent.” He starts throwing fuel all over the shitty trailer.
“Forty,” I counter, making my way out. I look around, but at this time of night, the place is deserted, or people are too scared to come out.
“Fuck you!” He tosses a lit match over his shoulder as he follows me out. The trailer quickly turns into an inferno as we get into his car and leave. Without my jacket, it’s fucking cold.
“Are we going to have a problem with all those fuckers burning to a crisp?” I’m wearing my mask, the police won’t be on my ass, but Domino isn’t.
“Nope. The client will throw us an extra for a more thorough cleaning.” He smiles, looking ahead as he drives me back to the motel where I left my motorbike.
“I came. Now give it, Domino.” I extend my hand. A few seconds later, he puts an envelope on it.
There’s a pic of a tied-up Marlon Finch inside, the guy who poisoned Dr. Bear-Stone. Vulture has found him and sent him my way.
“Vulture said you owe him one.” The fuck I do. “Oh, almost forgot, he also told me to pass this on to Ram.” He flips me the bird. I actually made Vulture and Ramiel virtually meet without them knowing—they both buy and sell information, so it was a good call. But my real goal was to find more connections to Uri.
“Let me know if you discover anything about those surveillance devices in the office,” I tell him as he stops the car in the motel parking lot and I get out. Even though I’m pretty sure it was Nine’s work.
