Matt Hilton - Blood and Ashes

I thought about Vince’s sneak attack with the garrotte. OK, he’d got the drop on me then, but a tactic like that wouldn’t help Vince if Rink wanted to kick his butt. Or if I decided a little payback was in order.

A door snicked open and all three of us swung round to see Walter standing in the threshold. He seemed to have got a grip on himself, because he wore the featureless expression he reserved for moments just like this. ‘I thought I’d better interject before this turns into a pissing competition. Jesus, it’s so bad that you can smell the testosterone in here!’

‘What you smell is the crap you’ve been feeding us all these years,’ Rink snapped at him. ‘I can’t believe you’d do this to us, Walter.’

‘You’re upset, and rightly so,’ Walter said.

‘Fucking upset? This little punk as much as says he’s a fuckin’ blue ray disc and I’m just a Beta-Max. Dead right, I’m fucking upset!’ Rink wasn’t one for going off like this and his fury was a surprise; normally it was Rink who had to caution me.

I turned a hurt look on my adopted father. ‘This doesn’t come as a surprise to me. Arrowsake was outmoded, but it was obvious that something else would take its place. What I am shocked at is the way we’ve been lied to.’

Walter waved me down. ‘I’ve never lied to you. I’ve just been selective with the truth.’ He looked me in the eye, before switching his scrutiny to Rink. ‘You know that I’ve protected you both, but it never occurred to you just how that could be?’

‘Friendship?’ Rink said sarcastically.

‘Yes, friendship. But also because you were important to me in another way.’

‘We were trained dogs to bark at your command,’ Rink snapped.

‘I wouldn’t put it that way.’

‘How would you put it?’ I asked. ‘You’ve been using us, Walter. You weren’t thinking of us as friends, you thought of us only in terms of personal assets.’

Walter shook his head. ‘No, Hunter, that isn’t the way it was.’

‘The Harvestman? Luke Rickard? Weren’t they hits designated by Arrowsake?’

‘Do you truly believe either of those assholes would be any concern of Arrowsake? I helped you with those problems, as well as the colossal fuck-ups you got yourselves involved in down in Florida and in Texas, because I wanted to. Like I said, you were important to me.’

I laughed mirthlessly. ‘You were saving us for a greater cause. Well, fuck you, Walter.’

Vince placed himself directly in front of me. ‘You can’t step away from this, Hunter. Have you forgotten the problem of a dozen dead people over in Pennsylvania? Maybe you should think about that.’

‘Is that right, Vince?’ I palm-heeled Vince under the chin and knocked the young man sprawling on his back. Only the fact that I’d tempered the blow meant that he was conscious enough to hear my next words. ‘There’s also the small matter of a dead girl who was shoved out of a car window, or have you forgotten about that, you son of a bitch?’

‘Sonya Madden was a potential murderer,’ Vince spluttered from a bleeding mouth.

On hearing the rumble of laughter from Rink, I couldn’t help shaking my head at the irony of it all. We looked at each other, and that was it. We both broke into loud laughter.

I pointed at the young upstart. ‘With people like him it’s no wonder that you’ve had to keep us on retainer, Walt.’

‘Then… you’re happy to be back?’ Walter asked.

Speaking for us both, Rink said, ‘We were never happy to be gone.’

A smile flickered over Walter’s mouth. The only one who didn’t look so pleased with the turn of events was Vince who scowled up at us as he checked for loose teeth. Around his fingertips, he muttered, ‘You took me by surprise, old man. Won’t happen again.’

‘Not unless you give me a good reason.’ I held a hand out to Vince. ‘That’s us square now, Vince. I owed you that for almost taking my head off with your garrotte.’

Vince thought about it, and again I noted that he was much sharper than he seemed. He stretched up and took my hand and I hauled him to his feet.

Vince gave Rink a steady look. ‘What about us? We OK, Rink?’

‘Call me Jared. You ain’t earned the right to call me Rink yet. That’s just for my friends.’ But then Rink clapped Vince on the shoulder and gave him a wink.

The door opened again and one of Walter’s ever-present bodyguards appeared carrying a tray laden with a jug of coffee and all the makings. Walter pushed his cigar between his teeth, using the excuse of playing host to move things on. ‘Excellent. Now we can get down to the real business.’

‘Yeah,’ Rink agreed. ‘It’s about time we got some answers.’

‘So what is the deal, Walter?’

A few minutes later I wished I’d never asked.

‘We’ve been recalled to Manhattan?’ asked Darley.

‘Yes, and it’s about time. I’m growing sick of hiding in the boonies like a runaway slave.’

‘You think you’re well enough to travel?’ The little man’s head dipped and bobbed as he ran a quick diagnostic check of his friend’s well-being. Gant had been in a car wreck and then shot, but he did look relatively well considering the alternative.

‘Get in the van, Dar. I’m fine.’

‘Fine, huh, boss?’ Even when he smiled, Darley looked like a bird weighing up a juicy worm.

‘Just get in the goddamn van.’

Samuel Gant was hurting like he’d been kicked by a mule and stung by a swarm of yellow-jackets, and he wasn’t in an easy-going frame of mind. The only saving grace was that the flak jacket he was wearing had saved him from the full force of the buckshot when Griffiths’ hired gunman shot him. The jacket had taken the brunt of both barrels, but some of the spreading shot had peppered his thighs and arms. Checking himself after Darley had dragged him clear, he’d discovered a massive haematoma on his ribs and all four limbs looked like they’d been drilled by weevils. And his mangled ear stung like a sonofabitch. For two days he’d been laid up by fever, and he still wasn’t certain that the doctor Hicks supplied had removed all of the shot from his system. Maybe somewhere along the way he’d die from lead poisoning, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him now. He wanted to be around when Hicks’ plan came to fruition; at least he’d know that the future was brighter than he was feeling just now.

‘I’m surprised that we haven’t been told to go and finish off the job,’ Darley said. He started the black van while Gant climbed in, the tattooed man taking his time and moving very gingerly. He knew how his boss felt; his head was still pounding from where he’d been struck unconscious and he didn’t think that all the Tylenol in the world would be enough to shift the pain. That fucker who’d smacked him around was going to hurt bad before Darley was happy again. ‘Why don’t we just walk into the hospital, shoot his guards and then kill Griffiths once an’ for all?’

‘We’ve talked about this before, Dar. It’s enough that we’ve confirmed where Griffiths was taken and that he’s fully sedated. In his present state he’s no threat to the operation. Hicks has capitalised on that and has moved the timescale forward. You should be happy he still wants us there for the big day after our righteous fuck-up!’

‘I suppose we can always come back later and finish what we started with Griffiths.’

‘If everything goes to plan, we won’t have to come back,’ Gant said. ‘Anything that Griffiths has on Hicks will be old news by then. Now get a move on, I want to be back in New York before nightfall.’

Pulling out of the lot behind the motel where they’d been holed up, Darley sent the van east, picking up Route 80 towards New Jersey, lost in his own thoughts for a few seconds. Drizzle streaked the windscreen like a greasy film that the wipers struggled to contend with. Finally he looked across at Gant. The tattooed man had rested his skull on the headrest and had closed his eyes, his lids flickering in time with his ongoing pain. Darley didn’t want to disturb him, but there was something that had just come to mind. ‘When you say Hicks has moved the timing forward, how soon are we talking about?’