Page 40 of The Bait

In the corner were some 44-gallon drums of oil, according to the labels. But Ivan pulled the top off and inside were black duffle bags.

Christ. They were dealing with an idiot.

“Inside the oil drum that has no business being inside a liquor store warehouse,” Harry griped. “Really?”

Ivan looked about to apologise, but he was shaking so bad he couldn’t even stammer out a reply.

Asher looked in each bag, taking out a pistol. It was still in its box, brand new. Asher took it out and lifted it tohis nose and sniffed it. “Ah. I love the smell of rust preventative in the morning.”

Harry chuckled and Ivan looked between them again, clearly thinking they were insane. He tried to smile but he also looked about ready to puke so it didn’t quite hold.

Asher tossed the hunting knife to Harry. “For you, my love.”

Harry caught it easily, unsheathed it, and inspected the blade. “Nice.”

“Now,” Asher said sweetly. “I did ask for a MAC 50. I know they’re hard to get, people tend to ask all sorts of questions. Like, ‘Why do you need that kind of weapon?’ and ‘That’s a specialist sniper rifle.’ Like I don’t already know that.” He sighed dramatically. “So while I won’t be surprised if you couldn’t get one, Iwillbe disappointed.”

Ivan nodded to the next drum. “I got it, I got it, it’s in there.” He went to reach for it, but Harry grabbed him, stopping him.

“I’ll open it,” Harry barked.

Inside was a black rifle carry bag and nothing else. Harry pulled it out, rested it on top of the drum, and opened it.

“Is she pretty?” Asher asked Harry, but he was facing Ivan.

Harry pulled the rifle out to show Asher. “Take a look.”

Asher gasped excitedly. “It’s an R2. It’s an older model,” he told Ivan.

Ivan shook his head. “It was all I could get. Like you said, they’re not easy?—”

“Relax, dear Ivan,” Asher said. “The R2 is my favourite. The weight distribution is so much better, less recoil. I don’t know why they insist on updating these things when the older model was perfect.”

Harry put it back in the bag, zipped it all up, and picked up the bag of ammunition. “The Jeep’s ours?”

Ivan nodded. “Yes. Like you asked for. Nondescript, Bosnian plates, registered, should the cops do a spot check, and the tank is full.”

Harry began loading their gear into the back of the Jeep while Asher took Ivan by the arm. “Now, let’s discuss payment.”

Harry checked the Jeep over while they did what needed doing. Asher would transfer the money directly into the account of Ivan’s choosing. They both stood there looking at their phone screens. There was a ding, Ivan nodded, and Asher smiled.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” Asher said.

Ivan nodded and swallowed hard. “Glad I could help.”

“Now, about telling anyone,” Asher began.

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said quickly.

Asher laughed. “It’s probably best you don’t. If they find out you did a business deal with Asher Garin and didn’t tell them so they could claim the bounty on my head, you will have cost them a lot of money, and they won’t take that very lightly.”

“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he said, panicked.

“As for the ZBK boys, well, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about them too much. Because we’re about to kill all of them.”

Ivan swallowed hard.

“And if they know we’re about to turn up, I’ll know you warned them. And after we’ve finished gutting them like we did their three comrades in Australia, we’ll come back and do the same to you.” Asher grinned at him. “M’kay? Are we clear, Ivan?”

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