Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” Henn says. “‘A Russian terrorist cell.’”
“Ha! Perfect,” I say. “You’re a fucking genius.”
“So I’ve been told,” Henn says.
“I like it,” Jonas says, nodding. He looks deep in thought.
“It’s actually eerily perfect,” Henn says. “It’s got all the bogey-man buzzwords at once, tied up in a neat little package. The news stations will have themselves a field day, whipping everyone into a frenzy, which means the feds will have a free pass to do whatever they need to do in plain sight—all in the name of protecting us all from a huge terrorist threat.’” Henn nods emphatically. “It’s brillz.”
“What if those two fuckers die in a shoot-out during a raid on the ‘terrorists’ compound’?” I ask. “That’s pretty sexy, isn’t it?”
“Perfecto,” Henn says. “Maybe those two fuckers ‘pulled weapons on officers’ during the raid? That’d be the cleanest for the feds and best for us, too—no way to trace anything back to us. Simple. Effective. Believable. The feds save the world. We have nothing to do with it. Great mega-story for the news outlets. It’s a win-win-win.”
Jonas nods. “Thanks, guys.” He looks emboldened. “I think that might work if I sell it right.”
Henn scrunches up his face, thinking. “Lemme see if I can’t get you a little insurance to help you out, big guy. Maybe I can dig up some more shit on the Secretary of Defense. Some compromising photos or whatnot. Kiddie porn on his computer. A dick pic he sent to a minor? I’m sure there’s something. There’s always something with these guys. A little insurance would be a good thing to have in your pocket in case the feds balk about taking those two guys out as part of the deal. ”
“Thanks, Henn,” Jonas says. “Yeah, insurance would be awesome.”
“Cool. No problem.”
“Is that everything, bro?” I ask.
Jonas looks at his watch. “Just one more quick thing. What about Oksana? Does she pull a weapon during the shoot-out or not?”
We all ponder the question for a moment, pursing our lips.
“The more people ‘pulled weapons on officers’ and didn’t make it out alive, the less believable the whole thing is,” Henn says. “Plus, women are much less likely to pull a weapon, statistically speaking. We don’t wanna raise any suspicion that anything’s hinky.”
Jonas clenches his jaw. “Did you uncover anything whatsoever to suggest Oksana had something to do with the hit on Sarah?”
“Or maybe knew about it beforehand?” I ask, my jaw clenching in sympathy with my brother’s. I want these fuckers dead every bit as much as he does.
Henn shakes his head. “Everything I’ve seen tells me Max ordered the hit and the Ukrainian Travolta carried it out. All evidence is that Oksana’s a pimpstress and a loyalist to mother Russia, but not a stone-cold killer. Max is the head of the snake. Indubitably.”
Jonas looks deep in thought.
I touch my brother’s shoulder. “I vote you be the God of the New Testament, Jonas—show the perfect measure of force and mercy.”
Jonas runs his hands through his hair. “Fuck. I dunno.” He exhales. “I’ll think about it on the plane some more.”
“Okay. Follow your gut.” I hug him. “Be safe, bro.” I kiss him on the side of his neck.
“You, too,” Jonas says. He kisses my cheek. “Be careful in the banks, guys. Please.”
“We will.”
“Take extra good care of Kat.” He looks across the room at Sarah. She’s chatting and giggling happily with Kat. “My girl can’t live without her.”
I stare at Kat across the room, my heart suddenly bursting in my chest. “I won’t let anything happen to her, bro.”
“We’ll keep her safe, big guy,” Henn says.
Jonas hugs Henn. “You’re a fucking genius, man. I can never thank you enough for all you’ve done.”
“Hey, man. We’re family now.”
They slap each other’s backs and when they pull apart, Jonas looks determined.
“You got this,” I say. “You’re a fucking beast, bro.”
“Fuck yeah,” Jonas says.
“Fuck yeah,” I reply.
“Fuck yeah,” Henn echoes. “Wow, I feel so masculated right now. Is this how you guys feel every fucking day? Wow.”
We all laugh.
I look at my watch. “Okay, bro. You better get your ass to the airport. Keep us posted. We’ll be ready all day tomorrow. Just give us the word and we’ll head to the banks.”
Our threesome walks over to the girls, and after the five of us have completed every possible permutation of hugging and whispered goodbyes, Jonas and Sarah waltz out the door, bags in hand and determined expressions on their faces.
“Good luck saving the world, guys!” Kat shouts to their backs.
“Holy crappolaaaaaaaaaaa!” Sarah shouts, just as the door closes behind her.
They’re gone.
Henn, Kat, and I look at each other in a shared daze for a long moment.
“Holy shitballs,” Kat finally says.
“Big shit going down in little China,” Henn says.
“Or little Ukraine,” I add.
“Shit just got real,” Henn says.
“Fo shizzle pops,” Kat says.