Page 111 of The Shadows Beyond
Hovering at the edge of an industrial estate, Cinn re-examined the piece of paper. “It’s that warehouse there,” he said, nodding to a large single-storey building ahead of them, its corrugated metal exterior glinting in the moonlight.
Julien grabbed his arm before Cinn could take another step. “Remember the codewords?”
Cinn nodded. He didn’t realise he was biting his lip until Julien tugged it free with gentle, lingering fingers.
“It’s not too late to back out. We could tell Richter we need more time to get the money together.”
What if Richter thought they would fail to come up with it? Cinn hadn’t had a spare fifty grand the last time they’d met. Or worse, what if Richter realised they were organising a plot against him? Better to launch in now and take him by surprise than to drag this whole thing out…
“It’ll be fine,” said Elliot, who sounded almost bored.
“You do crazy shit like this for a living, Elliot,” Julien snapped. “Give us a second.”
“I’m usually part of a team sent to arrest moteblessed criminals. This is going to be a walk in the park compared to that. You two stay here, and I’ll be back with Tyler in five.”
“Non!We’ll be burying bodies until three a.m. if you go in there by yourself, I know it.”
Cinn picked up the duffle bag from the ground and left them to cross the quiet expanse of the estate, hoping they’d follow. Seconds later, Julien wrenched the bag out of his hand.
The three of them crept around the side of the building to find a doorbell. Elliot pressed it once, hard. An eerie hush descended as they waited.
A side door clicked open, a bear-sized man emerging. It was the man who’d escorted Cinn to Richter last time, in a different location. The man nodded, then beckoned another man outside.
“Arms up,” the new one barked, and all three of them obliged them in their pat down.
“What’s in the rucksack?”
Julien handed it to him to rifle through, and Cinn prayed that none of the items in it warranted suspicion. He’d packed a load of junk in it, in addition to the one item that mattered.
“That other bag the cash?”
With gloved hands, Julien quickly unzipped a tiny portion of the duffle bag to flash the men some notes. It seemed to appease them, and one held the door ajar for them to enter.
The spacious warehouse appeared to be a storage unit, when it wasn’t serving as a drug lord’s lair. Following Richter’s men through a maze of shelves and crates, they eventually reached the other side. A blue door, light seeping out from under its crack, awaited them. The burly mantook position outside of it, hand resting lazily on his belt. What weapons was he was concealing?
“Buns?”
Cinn spun so fast he got whiplash. There, in the corner, slumped against a wooden box, was Tyler. Cinn was on the floor next to him before he took his next breath.
With unfocused eyes, Tyler reached out for his hand. “They came outta nowhere. Cobra’s crew. They jumped me. No idea how they clocked I had all the white on me. Some fucker must have tipped them off.”
That many sentences at once seemed to exhaust Tyler’s energy; his head dropped against the crate. A piece of rope around his wrists that was attached to the crate was his only restraint—clearly he wasn’t much of a flight risk in this state. A sheen of perspiration covered his forehead, and there was a slight tremor to his leg. Withdrawal. Now wasn’t the time for lectures though. They could come later.
“Course I came. Julien and Elliot did too.”
Tyler’s hazy eyes flicked over to them. His mouth twitched downwards ever so slightly, and Cinn’s stress levels further increased—hopefully Tyler wasn’t about to embarrass him by saying anything even vaguely insulting about the two people about to literally save his life.
“They’re lending me the money.” Cinn raised his eyebrows at Tyler to impart a clear message.
Tyler nodded to them. “Class. We’ll get it back to them.”
“Richter will see you now,” one man announced behind him. “Through the door.”
A hand squeezed onto Cinn’s shoulder. “I’ll sit here with him,” said Julien. “Take Elliot in with you.”
Cinn hesitated—was that arrangement the best idea?—but having no other solutions, he climbed to his feet to head to the blue door, with Elliot stuck to him like glue.
Heino Richter was just as intimidating on this occasion as when they’d met before. Even though he was sitting on an office chair, his stature felt imposing, his steely gaze and salt-and-pepper beard betraying years of calculated ruthlessness that Cinn knew too much about. Dressed in a tailored suit that only amplified his authority, he exuded a quiet power that demanded respect.
