But… Manhattan’s plan does make sense, at least from his point of view. Appearances can be deceiving, and all he’s going to do is make it look like we’re best friends, and that alone will be enough to secure his position of power for a long time. No reason why I can’t benefit in much the same way. It won’t do any harm, especially when I’m going after Trent. If I can make it look like I’ve got the backing of his only legitimate competition, it might throw him off his game — force to him to look at more than just me. With him distracted, he’ll be much easier to get to.
“A hundred grand, up front,” I say after a moment. “Wire transfer to a numbered account that Josh will give you.”
Manhattan seems surprised, but recovers instantly. “A fair price. Anything else?”
“Yeah, I want to use one of your contacts to source my hardware. And, I want a favor.”
His eyes narrow slightly with skepticism. “What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing… yet,” I say. “But when I need you, I’ll make the call, and you’ll be there, regardless. After that, we’ll be square and can start all over again.”
Manhattan’s silent as he thinks about my proposal. I see in his eyes that he’s looking at every angle, weighing up every pro and every con — much like I would do.
“Okay,” he says, finally, breaking into a smile. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Josh looks at me, silently asking if I’m sure I’m doing the right thing. I nod imperceptibly to reassure him. He then looks at Manhattan and hands him a business card with my details on it.
“Here’s the account information,” he says. “Let me have confirmation of payment within the hour.”
His tone is formal, almost off-hand, and I can tell he doesn’t approve of the deal. But I also know he understands the reasoning behind it. Manhattan, who knows me well enough to know not to screw me over, is essentially the new kingpin of Allentown, and now he owes me one. I’m in the process of attacking the kingpin of the rest of Pennsylvania, so that favor will definitely come in handy. And if all I have to do is take out a low-life wannabe nightclub owner, who’s told Manhattan to go fuck himself, then so be it — hardly breaking a sweat for an invaluable return.
I stand, prompting Josh and Manhattan to do the same.
“Okay, we’re done here,” I say to Manhattan. “You can contact Josh with the details of where I can find this King guy, and who I can speak to about some hardware for the job. Once I know the money’s in the account, I’ll make my preparations and carry out the hit. All goes well, I’ll be out of your city in twenty-four hours.”
“I’ll be in touch,” he replies with a nod.
Without another word, we walk off back to the elevator, meeting the eyes of every one of the bodyguards who stare at us on the way out.
“That went well,” says Josh as we walk back across the foyer and past the front desk.
“You don’t approve, do you?” I reply — more of a statement than a question.
He shrugs. “I know you know what you’re doing, and I understand why we’re doing it. I just don’t trust Manhattan.”
“You should always trust your spider sense,” I say. “But we both know Manhattan’s too smart to try to screw us over. He benefits from this more than we do.”
“Oh, I know.”
We step inside the elevator, and I press the button for our floor.
“So, what’s really on your mind?” I ask as the doors close.
“Just pissed off I didn’t get to eat any breakfast,” he replies.
After meeting with Manhattan, we both went back to my hotel room and waited for the confirmation of the wire transfer. It came through after half an hour, and ten minutes after that, Josh got the text with the address of Manhattan’s contact in the city where we can go to get some hardware. The guy he uses works out of a warehouse in an old industrial complex about five miles out from the city center. We also got the details of where our target is.
We gathered our things and headed out in the Winnebago. I’m driving while Josh works his magic on his machines to find out everything we need to take the guy out.
The clouds are dark gray and the light rain looks destined to get heavier as the day progresses — according to the local radio station we’re listening to, anyway. Even if they’re right, I think it’ll struggle to beat the storm we drove in from Pittsburgh last night.
I have to admit, as I navigate my way through the traffic, it’s nice to take a small reprieve from my pursuit of Trent and do a normal job for a change. It’s just what I need to help me relax. The driving helps, too, as it allows my mind to shut down and focus on the road. They say a change is as good as a rest, but I’ve always worked best with routine. My own order in the otherwise chaotic existence of a broken world. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t crave the structure and anonymity of the life I lead. Ironically, if you look down at everyone living their lives, I imagine I’d be the more noticeable one, swimming against the current.
“This Johnny King sounds like a right prick,” says Josh, interrupting my wandering thoughts as I take a left turn and change lanes. “Get this: the nightclub he owns has a VIP room that’s invite only from King himself. It’s reportedly frequented by local politicians and celebrities. He’s criticized by local media for — and I’m quoting one magazine here — buying his own notoriety and acting more important than he could ever hope to be… Then in the next breath, he’s praised for sizeable charity donations and fundraising in the city to raise awareness for disadvantaged children.”
“Sounds to me like the newspapers are being as fickle as always,” I observe. “Even though we know he’s a piece of shit wannabe mobster, you can’t fault all the charity stuff I guess.”
“Despite it being an obvious smokescreen to distract from the fact he’s a criminal?”
I shrug. “Those kids won’t care where the money comes from…”
“Yeah, fair point… Anyway, he runs all his little enterprises from his office at the club Manhattan mentioned, The Palace, so that’s as good a place as any to take him out.”
“Works for me. What’s the building like? Is there a back way in? How many men on site?”
“Well, looking at the map, the club’s on a main street with buildings opposite and on either side. However… at the back of the building, there’s a small parking lot and some greenery boxed in by a fence. The other side of the fence is like a mirror image, but leads to the back of a bus terminal. The main building of which is three stories and has roof access.”
I glance over my shoulder at him as I pull up at a red light. “Is there a clear view of King’s office from the rooftop?” I ask, hopefully.
“I’ve got the structural blueprints of his club, and his office doesn’t have any windows. But, it is against the back wall.”
I smile as my brain races around, piecing together the hit. Images link to one another like a jigsaw and the whole thing plays out over, and over again — every possible outcome.
“Sniper rifle,” I say as the lights change, and I set off again. “Perfect!”
“I can go in for clean-up after you take King out?” Josh offers, with a hint of excitement in his voice.
I think about it. I can’t imagine there being much resistance there during the day, and it’s not like he can’t handle himself.
“Sure,” I nod. “You can even take my babies if you want, for luck.”