Page 6 of Tank
Growling in frustration, I turned the screen off and tossed my phone aside. The loud clamor of it hitting the hard bar top echoed through the silent space.
I should turn on some music.
I hit the play button on the iPod in the docking station. The owner was specific on what he wanted to be played in his bar and let me just say, my music was not what he had in mind. Some country song rang out through the speakers and my mind drifted back to the phone conversation with my current employer.
“What’s my target?” I ask after he told me where it is he wants me to go.
“Anything that goes in that cabin,” his voice is low and dangerous. It sends an unwanted tingle down my spine and I do my best to shake it off because I needed this job.
“Anything?” I ask. I’m not one that lives off of surprises.
When I go in I want a location, description, and if possible a name. But I’m not getting a single thing here.
“Any-fucking-thing.” His voice is laced with venom. “Is that going to be a problem?”
I feel it deep in my bones that there is only one right answer to that. But I am not one to take shit from anyone. However, I am desperate.
“No,” I say mustering all the restraint I can.
“Get set up. I’ll send one of my men out there to meet with you and give you ten percent.”
Then the line goes dead.
I didn’t like him. But the man he’d sent somehow settled me inside. I still felt as though I was left out on the outside edge of what was going on. This was just going to be a harder puzzle. Only I wasn’t looking to solve it, I was simply looking to finish it.
