Page 10 of Vengeance

“Who owns you now?”

“Owns us?”

“Yeah, if York works for you, you are not stupid. You need to line up a new supply before cutting ties with the current one. So... who owns you now?”

“Russians.”

The man laughs. “RIO?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck no. Forget you have this number.”

“You’re scared of the Russians?” Psycho asks. “I thought you’d be tougher.”

“I am tough. One of the toughest motherfuckers you will find. I do not have a death wish, which is what you must have. The moment I sell to you, the RIO will find out. The next thing I know, we have bombs blowing up our warehouses. Nope.”

The call disconnects, and Jennings has a feeling this will be the way all of these calls end up.

“Well, you got your wish. They’re off the list,” Jennings says. “Next up, China.”

The speakers ring again, and they get a similar response of ‘hell no’. It was a little less accusatory and offensive, but it’s the same reasoning. Chicago’s relationship with them seemed to keep it relatively friendly.

“Is calling your US contact even worth it?” Psycho asks. “If we’re going to lose clients and profits, should we bother?”

“We should exhaust every avenue, right?” he asks and calls the man he’s met once. “Terry, it’s Jennings Molloy.”

“Hey, Molloy. What can I do for you?” Terry asks.

The man’s voice doesn’t match his physical appearance, which is short and stocky with red hair and freckles. The deep voice sounds like he should be larger and buffer.

“We’re looking at switching our suppliers-”

“You work with the RIO now, right?”

Psycho closes his eyes and leans back, shaking his head. Jennings knows where the conversation is going when he answers, “Yeah, but-”

“Hard pass. Sorry, but those motherfuckers aren’t enemies I want. Good luck on your search, though.”

The call disconnects, and Jennings leans his back to stare at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

“Do we call my contact?”

“No, you do that separately. Let’s just tell Ivan we have a couple of leads and see how that goes. Besides, he owes us an answer on the Russian mob assistance,” he says and calls through the laptop one last time.

Laughing, Psycho looks at him, and it’s obvious he doesn’t agree with Jennings. “Okay...”

“What?” Ivan’s voice shouts, his accent thick and his tone gruff.

“Hello to you, too,” Jennings says.

“What do you want, Molloy?”

Psycho’s eyes widen at the obvious disrespect. “I’m here, too.”

The man softens a bit, and Jennings can’t decide whether he should be grateful or offended. Psycho’s reputation clearly transcends continents. “What can I do for you boys?”

“We need an answer, Ivan,” Jennings says.

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