Page 40 of Sor

“Mostly information.”

“About what?” asked Ben.

“Where him and Marshall were,” he frowned, pointing to Sor. “Marshall was easy. He never suspected anyone was watching him. You were harder. I haven’t been able to find you, and I guess I know why now.”

“Yeah, I guess you do. You set Marshall up. You got him killed,” said Sor. Beck knew enough to not answer the other man.

“Dude, you’re fucked,” said Frank. “Where is DeWitt?”

“I don’t know. I swear, I don’t. He was in Cambodia for a while trying to help a bunch of people there overthrow their government. I couldn’t figure out why. It’s not exactly like DeWitt is civic-minded. Dude doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. Then he calls yesterday and says he needs to make money fast.”

“What did you tell him?” asked Sor.

“Nothing. I can help him make a few grand fast, but not millions. Hell, hundreds of millions is what he wanted. I asked him if he were in town.”

“What did he say?”

“Obviously, no. He owes me money and hasn’t paid me for anything yet.”

“What did he owe you money for?” asked Frank.

This time, Beck knew he was in deep shit. He tried to turn and run, but Frank had him by the back of the neck, pulling him back and slamming him into the ground. His head bounced off the concrete walkway, and all Beck could see were swirling images of angry men.

“I asked you not to run, you asshole,” growled Frank. “What did he owe you money for?”

“Weapons, okay. Weapons! Rocket launchers, grenade launchers, lots of shit.”

“Lots of shit? Where the fuck did you get it?” asked Sor. “You know what, never mind. Let’s go, asshole. We’re going to have a conversation with base command.”

“We can’t thank you guys enough,” said base command. “Those weapons had to have been stolen recently because we did a weapons check just five days ago. Another was scheduled for tomorrow, so we would have found it but wouldn’t have known who had them.”

“Don’t you have cameras?” asked Sor.

“Yes, of course, we do, but we’ve been having rolling power outages, and I suspect this man had something to do with that.”

“I’m sure he did,” said Frank. “Well, he’s in your hands now. Don’t lose him.”

Back in their vehicle headed home, Frank drove as Ben sat in the back, Sor in the passenger seat. No one said a word until Frank broke the silence.

“Anyone hungry?”

“I could eat,” said Ben. Sor only shook his head, laughing at the two men.

“Yeah. Sure. I could eat.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DeWitt stood at the curb outside his hotel, waiting for the taxi to arrive. He looked down at his watch four times in less than three minutes, his impatience showing through.

“Sir, the taxi should be here any moment. There’s just a lot of holiday traffic,” said the doorman.

“I get it, but I need to get to the airport,” said DeWitt. The man only nodded, most likely thinking that they should have left thirty minutes earlier. New York City, the week of Thanksgiving, was not exactly a place you should be if you were in a hurry.

When the taxi pulled up, DeWitt jumped into the backseat, and they took off. Just before they reached the tunnel, he tried calling Beck again but had no luck.

“Asshole,” he mumbled to himself. Inside the tunnel, the traffic stopped to a complete standstill, and Beck nervously bounced his leg. Once through, it shouldn’t take long but getting through was the issue. Suddenly, the back doors opened, and two men pushed in on either side of him as the driver stepped out of the taxi.

“Hey! Hey, what the fuck!” he yelled.

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