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“Brilliant,” I say. “Now we can hit him in his wallet, we need to find a way to hit him in his face.”

“Well, I might just have the answer to that as well,” says Josh, engrossed at the screen. “There’s a transaction here on one of Trent’s personal accounts for what looks like a Pittsburgh Steelers season ticket.”

“The Steelers are playing this evening…” offers Frank, who has reappeared in the doorway.

We all look at Bernstein, who’s holding his silence in the corner as Josh works at his desk.

“Joe,” I ask. “You hear any mention of this when you were with him today?”

I see his hesitation.

“Joe…”

“He did mention a game this morning, yes,” he sighs. “And I know he has a private box at the stadium…”

Josh and I exchange a glance, and I smile as our next move becomes obvious.

“Fancy going to a football game?” I ask him.

“That still ain’t football, Bossman, but I could sure use the R and R,” he says with a smile full of excitement and menace.

He quickly downloads all the account details to a USB drive and puts it in his pocket. “We’re done here,” he announces as he stands.

“Frank, is there anything else you want to know?” I ask, turning to him.

“Not from him,” he replies, nodding at Bernstein.

“Alright then.”

I raise my gun again and pull the trigger. The bullet hits Bernstein on the neck, causing blood to spray across the back wall with a squelch. He clutches at the wound as he slumps to the floor. He starts to shake as blood pumps over his hand and down his suit, forming a dark, crimson pool on the floor around him.

“Jesus Christ!” yells Frank behind me. “Are you insane?”

I look at him impassively. “You honestly think he wouldn’t have called Trent the moment we left here?” I ask.

“Well, maybe… but you didn’t have to shoot him!”

Josh walks around the desk and heads for the door. He stops next to Frank and pats him on the shoulder. “You’ve got a lot to learn, Frankie,” he says with a humorless smile. “Adrian’s never finished an interrogation without putting a bullet in someone.”

Frank looks at me, but all I can do is shrug. Sadly, Josh has a point.

I look down at Bernstein, who’s stopped breathing. I put another bullet between his eyes, to make sure, and then leave the office.

We all walk back to the car in silence. Frank gets in behind the wheel and sets off. “So, what’s next?” he asks after a moment.

“It looks like we’re finally ready to launch our attack,” says Josh. “That right, Adrian?”

My jaw muscles tense as I nod slowly. “Fuckin’ A.”

27

MEANWHILE…
14:01

It had been an increasingly stressful day for Wilson Trent, and since Bennett had arrived back at his office, it had only gotten worse. After asking around, he’d found out that the woman he’d hired to kill Adrian Hell had lied to him, and that piece of shit had left the hospital earlier that morning with nothing more than a flesh wound. And that was after assaulting two police officers. They weren’t even on his payroll — he assumed Adrian was feeling extra paranoid, which was a good sign… it proved he was getting to him.

He wasn’t interested in the reasons behind why she’d lied; he was only interested in making sure Adrian Hell was dead. And Dominique Tevani was still the best option he had.

She just needed a little persuasion.

It hadn’t taken much time or effort for Bennett to dig into her life and find her weakness. And now that had been exploited, he simply needed to remind her that he wasn’t someone you should betray.

He picked up his cell phone and called her.

“Hey, big boy,” she said as she answered. “You got more work for me?”

“Cut the crap, Dominique,” replied Trent, who was in no mood for playing games. “You care to explain why the fuck Adrian Hell walked out of a hospital earlier today with a bullet hole in his shoulder?”

She fell silent on the phone for a moment.

“I don’t believe you’re that bad of a shot,” he continued. “So I wanna know why and I wanna know when you intend finishing the job I paid you exceptionally well to carry out.”

“Look, Willy, like I told you before, you should’ve said it was Adrian Hell you were sending me after in the first place.”

“What difference would it have made?”

“I’d have told you to go fuck yourself,” she said. “Aside from the fact he is who he is, professional killers work to a code. And one of the rules of that code is that you never take a job to kill one of our own.”

“Don’t give me that code of honor crap,” said Trent, losing his patience. “I very much doubt more than a couple of you psychopaths ever adhere to that so-called rule—the money’s too good. Now, you either finish the job, or you’ll find yourself just below Adrian fucking Hell on my shit-list!”

She laughed down the line.

“Listen, Willy, you don’t frighten me. You can have your money back, I don’t care — I’m not going after Adrian.”

Trent took a deep breath, struggling not to lose his patience. “I figured you might say that, so I took the liberty of finding something to encourage you…”

He nodded to Bennett, who left the room, returning a moment later dragging a young girl by the arm. She was fourteen years old and dressed in jogging pants and a hooded sweater. Her eyes were red from crying and her long, dark hair was messy from the struggle she’d put up when Bennett took her from her home a few hours ago. He marched her up to Trent’s desk and held her still.

Miley Tevani stared at Trent, her anger and hatred matched only by her fear.

“I’ve got someone here who’d like to say hello,” he continued, before placing the phone on speaker and holding it in front of the girl’s face.

“H-hello?” she said, nervously.

“Miley? Sweetie, is that you?” said Dominique, her voice cracking with emotion.

“Mom? Oh my God, Mom! Help!” she screamed.

“Baby! Oh, God! Baby, it’s okay — Mommy’s gonna come get you, okay? Just be brave, sweetie!”

Trent took the phone off speaker and nodded to Bennett, who escorted her back out of the office. When he spoke to Dominique, he was smiling from ear to ear.

“I’m sure I don’t need to spell this out for you, you stubborn bitch — bring me Adrian Hell’s head, or I’ll send you your daughter’s in the fucking mail!”

“I swear I’m gonna blow your goddamn brains out!” she replied, unable to suppress her anger. “If you hurt a hair on her head, I’m gonna—”

“No, you’re not,” he interrupted, casually. “You’re gonna go and kill Adrian Hell, then you can pick your daughter up. She won’t be harmed as long as you do what you were paid to do. Making threats to me won’t get you anywhere, sweetheart. Now, I don’t wanna have to remind you again. Go and do your fucking job!”

He ended the call and threw his cell phone across the room with frustration. It shattered against the far wall just as Bennett re-entered, narrowly missing his head. He ducked instinctively before closing the door.

“Everything okay, Mr. Trent?” he asked.

Trent sighed heavily. “Why do people insist on pushing me?” he asked.

Bennett remained silent.

“Is the girl secure?” asked Trent.

Bennett nodded. “A couple of the guys are watching her down the hall. She’s tied up and not going anywhere.”