At the Same Time
Wheatfield Maximum Security Prison
“Mr. Vance.” Standing at six-and-a-half feet tall, at the very least, the sharp-dressed fellow in front of Toms extended his hand. “You know who I am.”
Toms ignored the gentlemanly gesture and indicated the chair across from him by jabbing his cuffed hands in that direction. “You got ten minutes. Use ’em.”
No point in beating around the bush. There were certain particulars to discuss before the blaring alarms rang out, alerting one and all to a possible security breach.
“Are you aware of the surveillance situation?”
Toms sniffed. “It’s handled.”
“I double-checked to be sure. Speak freely.”
“Reckon ya represent my family’s last chance to even the score with Trouble’s foundin’ fathers. Ya fuck this up and you’re a dead man.”
“So we’re starting with threats. Are we?” The hired gun leaned forward, looking more sinister than any man Toms had ever met and he’d met legendary killers. “Perhaps we should put this out there, Mr. Vance. If you plan to kill me, do it now. Don’t make empty promises.
“I come highly recommended because I deliver, but I’ve never cowed to people like you. I won’t start now. As a sidebar, I’m still standing because I take out those who pose unnecessary inconveniences to my life, lifestyle, or even my well earned reputation.”
Toms popped his neck, gently maneuvering his head one way or the other. Assholes like this dude were a dime a dozen, particularly in today’s world. Fortunately, the suited fellow didn’t realize as much. He’d been hired to do a job and Toms would likely receive confirmation of a completed task. The killer came highly recommended sure enough. “Retainer can be found in Vance Holler. Did ya receive the directions?”
“Yes.” The overpriced thug narrowed his eyes. “Now let’s discuss logistics and targets.”
“Don’t know how many will be travelin’ but ya should have someone at the airport to count heads. That way, when ya land, won’t be a question of where to start.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not the only one on the job? Is this a divide and conquer situation?”
“Ya worry about the group a’travelin’. Divide ’em, conquer ’em, damned if I care. Just send every last one of ’em home in a body bag. If ya do the job there, our job will be easier here.”
A wicked grin spread over the assassin’s face. “Let’s hope the lot of the McCall family boards that plane come Saturday.”
“Since the price is per head, you’re hopin’ for a party, I reckon.”
“I am indeed.” The arrogant killer checked his wristwatch. “Anything else I should know?”
“Ellie Hunter is worth a mention. She’ll be travelin’ with her fellas. From what I know of her, she put up with a lot of abuse, shouldn’t be alive today truth be told. If she boards, her men ought to be along soon after. Reason for tellin’ ya as much? If only one of ’em is with her, rest assured the others won’t dally long.”
“How many?”
“Four—Allister McCall, Bradley Powers, Ryan Thomas, and Derek Swinney.”
“So she’s the whore of the bunch?”
“At least she’s a committed whore,” Toms pointed out, laughing. “And if ya’d done some research, ya’d know. All the women in Trouble are sleepin’ with more than one at a time. They must figure it’s harder to kill one of ’em if killers sleep on both sides of their beds.”
“Already noted.” He seemed anxious to leave. “Is that it?”
“Don’t do anything to tip ’em off. I want ’em comfortable before they leave, settlin’ in and enjoyin’ a quiet country life behind those boulder-like walls. They see ya coming? They’ll be ready for ya. We don’t want ’em ready. Be the bolt from the blue. Shock ’em. Make ’em question everything they’ve ever done as men so they doubt their successes and blame one another for their personal and group failures.”
“I’m impressed. You sound remarkably philosophical.”
Toms figured that was a hooded insult but he let it slide. He’d endured plenty of those throughout life, particularly behind bars. “Don’t underestimate ’em.” He took a moment to think about Trouble’s founding fathers. They each seemingly possessed their own unique skill sets. “The McCalls and their sidekicks have military backgrounds or they were trained by those with worthy credentials. Allister and Mac? They’re your bears. No one wants to shake ’em and wake ’em cause just agitatin’ those two can be a disaster, deadly even.”
“They can be draped in medals for all I care. They’ll never know what hit them.”
Toms had to give the guy credit. He wasn’t short on confidence.