Page 130 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“So many drugs. Heroin and marijuana, for sure. I think there’s coke too, or it might be China white.”

“Can I see?”

Didn’t he trust me? “Sure. The bodies are in the central walkway, and the contraband is to the left.”

Thankfully, the bodies were at the far end of the prison, lumps in the gloom. The aroma of decomp warred with shit where the freshly dead had let go of their sphincters. I hurried Cole past. He gave a low whistle when he saw the endless stacks of drugs and gasped when he spotted the piles of hundred-dollar bills.

“Holy shit. There must be a million bucks here.”

“At least. A million bucks in hundreds fits into a carry-on bag. Don’t ask me how I know that.”

“There are going to be a lot of things I can’t ask you, aren’t there?”

“Yes.”

Cole eyed me warily. “Are you thinking of taking the money and running? You could disappear with this amount.”

What? “You have the boat keys.”

I’d deliberately let him keep them so he’d feel more comfortable about the shitty state of affairs.

“You have the gun.”

For fuck’s sake. I snapped out the magazine and gave it to him, then passed him the spare from my pocket too.

“I’m an assassin, not a thief. And arguably, you need the money more than I do.”

“I’m not going to steal it either.”

“I know. That’s one of the things I like about you, Cole. You have morals.”

“Do you?”

I did. They just didn’t line up with most other people’s. The Choir’s brief was simple—make the world a safer place. Oh, and try not to cause too many diplomatic incidents.

“I’m not some renegade. I save more lives than I take.”

Cole’s sharp intake of breath said he didn’t believe me.

“How many people die from drug-related incidents in San Gallicano?”

“Four hundred and twenty-seven last year.” His voice dropped. “Frankie’s brother was one of them.”

I touched his arm, relieved when he didn’t flinch. “I’m so sorry. Did you know him well?”

“We weren’t close, but he was always around. They say there was a bad batch of heroin.” Cole eyed up the stacks. “Maybe there’s more.”

“It’ll be destroyed.”

“We should burn it.”

I shook my head. “Leave that to the government. Let them put these bricks on TV and make some Colombian drug lord cry.”

We needed the evidence of narcotics to use in our negotiations, and by “we,” I meant Demelza.Hey, Mr. Police Chief, a US operator killed six people in your jurisdiction, but it was self-defence and look at all the drugs we found.

“What if more men show up in the meantime?” Cole asked. “Are we going to stay here until the government sends in soldiers to guard the place?”

“Did you forget about Dr. Blaylock?”

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