“Okay, just keep an eye on it,” Adam said, and Mercedes nodded. As he’d always said, if his life was safe in anyone’s hands, it would always be hers.
* * *
“What do you think?” Adam asked, raising his arms and feeling more impressed with himself than usual. He was usually pretty impressive, too, if he did say so himself.
It was the middle of the day, so the bar was closed, but still as dark and dingy, not managing to filter in any natural light, and somehow smelling more odorous with nobody in it. Dan had paid cash, and so their purchase had settled the week prior. Now it was officially theirs, and since they had decided not to give up and flee Ridge City, it was the perfect place to plot to take down Dorian Blake in three months or less.
“It’s a shit hole,” Paul said.
“Yeah, but it’s our shit hole.” Dan bounced around.
Adam followed Paul’s eye over the rotting walls and broken tabletops. He needed to stop overthinking and see its potential, instead.
“And why did you buy this?” Paul said.
“We’ve got a big group of people now, they need a place to cool off,” Adam said.
“And this was that place,” Paul cringed, but Adam saw through the façade and found the tease for what it was. Sneaky prick. He liked the place, just didn’t want to admit it.
Dan rushed from wall to wall, throwing pool cues around the place for seemingly no reason other than for the hell of it. Adam watched on in amusement while Paul just frowned. The same thing had happened last time they owned a place. They’d never had much respect for property, so Paul always had to remind them to at least respect their own.
Dan threw a striped ball across the room where it lodged in the wall.
They’d never learned. Obviously.
“How are you doing with the arms’ supplies?” Adam asked, ignoring Dan running across the bar top.
“It’s rough,” Paul said. “I only get the supplies once a deal has gone down, no idea where they come from.”
Adam frowned, disappointed, but let it go for now. “Dan?”
Like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the candy jar, Dan halted on the bar top and climbed down sensibly.
“How you doing with the officials?”
“Not great,” Dan admitted, coming up to join Adam and Paul. “I don’t know who’s who, Blake keeps all that locked down. I mean, Blake keeps the paperwork in my office. So access isn’t an issue, but it’s all written in gibberish. Some kind of code that I can’t read.”
“Same for me,” Paul agreed. “Got all the docs at the range, but no way to know what the fuck they say.”
It was as if a lightbulb appeared over Adam’s head and dinged the answer right into his brain. Excitedly waving his finger at Dan, he said, “We need Blake’s encryption key.”
“Oh, fuck no.” Dan rolled his eyes, obviously seeing where Adam was going before Paul had caught up.
“And where can we get this key?” Paul narrowed his eyes but patiently saw the question through.
“White book,” Adam said, smiling so widely his teeth could fall out.
Paul’s face dropped. “No fucking way.”
“Come on.”
Paul and Dan seemed to realize at the same moment that Adam was far from joking. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Paul said. “The fucking white book?”
Shrugging, Adam said, “Why not?”
“No way! Blake’s white book is locked up in the safe, in his office, that’s three levels of protection to get to it. We’d need to get into the mansion, unlock his office, and then crack his safe. No way!” Dan said.
What a challenge. That would be fucking ecstasy.
