Drake rested his forearms on the wheel. “I’ve worked with them, and then fired them because they were mavericks and risk takers. Don’t want that in a legitimate security business.” He turned and grinned. “But in a suicidal mission back to the dawn of time, well, they’d be perfect… and expendable.”
Ben chuckled. “And so?”
“And so, a million bucks apiece. 10 % on lift-off, the rest when we get home.” Drake’s face became serious when Ben’s eyebrows went up. “You want them to say yes without even stopping and thinking about it, right?”
“Shit. Big payday.” Ben blew air through his lips. “But at least I like the way you back-loaded the deal. After all, how many will actually be alive to collect?”
“All of them if everything goes to plan.” Drake briefly looked around the near vacant carpark.
“What have they been doing since they left your fruitful employ?” Ben asked.
“Knowing them, bad shit. They’re no angels.” Drake elbowed his door open. “Let’s go and meet them.” He paused and then leaned back into the car. “Oh yeah, one more thing.” He grinned. “Don’t expect any of them to be shrinking violets.”
“You don’t say.” Ben chuckled and stepped out himself.
Ben and Drake crossed the carpark and pushed in through one of the double doors, making a small bell tingle overhead. Both men stood just inside, surveying the interior; there were a few people scattered about, and on one wall was a sign that read: No dessert till you eat everything on your plate.
Ben smiled. “Mama sure sounds like one tough old bird.”
Drake nudged him and nodded toward two huge guys at a booth. Only one was watching him, the other picked at a plate of food.
“Two there, two more at the counter, and one at the far booth.”
Ben looked from person to person — two solid dudes at the booth, two women that looked like they chewed barbed wire for breakfast at the counter, and another guy the size of a small mountain in the far booth. They had spread themselves out to look random, but to the trained eye, it was more like they were expecting an ambush.
All except one seemed interested in the pair of new arrivals. But Ben bet his bottom dollar that when he and Drake had crossed the carpark they had all watched like hawks.
“And these guys are your buddies, right?” Ben asked.
“Sort of.” Drake bobbed his head. “Like I said, they used to work for me… and I fired every one of them.”
“Well then, this should go smoothly.” Ben and Drake took a booth and the waitress came with a notepad.
“Coffee and a chicken club,” Ben said. “Bacon extra crispy.”
“Make it two,” Drake added.
The waitress nodded and left and then Drake eased back against the vinyl and threw an arm out along the top of the booth seat. “Now we wait.”
And they didn’t have to wait long. One of the guys from the booth who had been watching them lifted his coffee cup and sidled over, sliding in next to Ben and bumping him along. Ben was a big guy, but this guy had to be 6”2’, and had 20 pounds on him. Plus about a dozen years.
“Drake.” The guy nodded.
“Chess.” Drake smiled and continued to lounge back. He nodded toward Ben. “My buddy, Ben Cartwright. The guy I told you about.”
Ben nodded, and Chess turned an eye on him to give him the once over and then looked back to Drake.
“You said you wanted to see us about a job?” His mouth turned down momentarily. “Pretty busy right now.”
“Sure you are.” Drake waited as the waitress slid their coffees in front of them and left. Drake lifted it and inhaled the aroma. “Playing pool, being hungover, and a bit of petty crime is a full-time job.”
“Smartass,” Chess snarled. “Is there a job or not?”
“Yep, and one that might be your last.” Drake stared back with an unwavering gaze.
Chess frowned. “What’s that mean?”
Drake chuckled, and Ben shook his head. “I mean, the payday is so good, you may never have to work again.”
Chess waved it away. “Getting too old to be an outlaw, brother.”
“Nothing illegal, as if that ever bothered you. But it is… unusual.” Drake waited with a half-smile still on his lips.
“But I’m betting dangerous as all fuck,” Chess shot back. “Right?”
“You bet.” Drake laughed.
Chess stared for several seconds until the waitress appeared again. “Anything else for you boys?”
“Yeah.” Chess looked up. “Five servings of pie for my posse, and put it on this guy here’s tab. Wait, put all our bills on his tab.” He grinned.
The waitress’ eyes slid to Drake who nodded once.
“Okay.” She hustled away.
Chess folded tattooed arms. “That just bought you both some listening time. Go on.”
Drake looked to Ben who gave him the go ahead. He leaned forward. “A quick snatch… a rescue. A month’s work between here and down in the Amazon. And when we’re ready, in and out in two days. If everything goes to plan,” Drake said.
“We’ve done snatches before, but the Amazon, man. Bad news.” Chess whistled. “Have to think about it.”
“A million bucks. Each,” Ben said, evenly. “So think quick.”
Chess didn’t flinch, but the corners of his mouth twitched. He turned and waved for the other four members of his team to come and crowd into the next booths to listen.
Chess looked at each of them. “Guy here says the job pays a million bucks, each, for a simple snatch, ah, rescue.” He turned back. “For that sort of cabbage, who is it, some drug lord, the president? Who?”
Drake shook his head. “Nobody you know, and nobody important. Who it is doesn’t matter. But we need to bring them home from the Amazon, fast.” Drake’s eyes were level. “And yeah, you heard right, a million bucks each. $100,000 when you get on the plane, and then $900,000 more when you get off back home, with our guy.” He lifted his chin. “And I never said the job was simple.”
One of the women leaned toward their booth, and then right into Ben’s ear. “Sounds like bullshit, man; what’s the catch?”
Ben leaned away from her mouth. “Possibly, probably, going to be a suicide mission.”
“Ooh.” She scoffed, turned to Drake, and thumbed toward Ben. “You gonna tell us who this guy is?”
“He’s a buddy of mine; we used to work together. This here is Captain Benjamin Cartwright, formerly Special Forces. And he’s also been where we’re going. So if you sign up, you listen up when he speaks, because he’s the boss.” Drake grinned with zero humor. “And one more thing: he’s also the guy that pays the bills.”
“Used to be Spec Forces,” the woman said. “And I’ve been to the Amazon more’n a dozen times. It’s just another freaking jungle full of wet heat, bugs, and snakes. But for a million bucks, Mr. Fuckstick, I’d go to the moon.”
Chess turned. “That’s enough, Shawna.” He thumbed to the four people in the booths surrounding them, starting with the two big men. “Buster and Francis. The mouth here is Shawna, and the nice one is Balls.”
Ben tried not to laugh as he turned and nodded to each, finishing on Balls. She was a 30-something Latin American-looking woman with a slight dent in her lips, indicating an old split lip that hadn’t knitted right. Her face was pleasant enough, but her eyes were dead. Ben had seen that look before, usually in Vets that had seen it all. He didn’t think for a second she wasn’t as tough as they come. Ben looked again at each of Chess’ crew. In fact, they all looked fearless and formidable. Good, he thought.