Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set (35 page)

Sven’s eyes darkened. “I know there isn’t. Because if anything happens, you’ll join your friends.”

Hank finished off his glass and raised it in the air, his stringy brown hair falling across his face. “Good stuff as always, Sven. Another round!”

Sven shook his head. “It’s time to leave. I’ve got a few bottles on the ship – we’ll crack one on board before the sail-away party.”

Evan glanced at Brandon, his brow creased in concern. He spoke to the table in general. “Don’t we want to go over the details?”

Sven shook his head. “No need for details. Kamran has been doing this for years. He’ll work on that stuff with you guys over the coming months. This was just a meet-and-greet to ensure you’re all on the same page.” He downed the rest of his punsch and pressed to rise.

I leaned forward, my voice low. “So, that’s it? We’re just going to stay small-time, selling the heroin in Boston proper?”

Sven flinched, then turned to me, his gaze hard. “Instead of what?”

“I’m a finance major,” I pointed out. “All my training is in numbers and profits. Why would we miss out on easily increasing our income ten-fold?”

Kamran’s toothy gleam sharpened in anger. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

I held up a finger. “Heroin in the big cities is cheap. Lots of competition plus volume pricing. A bag here could go for $4.” I spread both hands wide, all ten fingers out. “But that exact same bag up in rural Vermont goes for $40. For the price of gas, our profits go sky high.”

Kamran sniffed. “Vermont. Lots of cow-lovers and cheese-eaters. They barely know what heroin is.”

“That state consumes two million dollars of heroin,” I pointed out.

He laughed. “What, a year?”

I shook my head. “No. A week.”

Sven blinked in surprise, then leaned forward. “Are you sure?”

I nodded my head. “And in New Hampshire, they just seized a stash of 300 grams of heroin – worth $30,000 – at an auto repair shop. Just one tiny dealer out of thousands. The market there is huge.” I shrugged. “Now that OxyContin has been reformulated so it’s harder to crush, everyone’s turning to heroin. It’s cheaper and easier to use. More flexible.”

Sven’s brows drew together. “I thought you were just a user.”

I gave a small smile. “I like math. I like running numbers. I’m a wiz at research. It’s why I’m so good at what I do.”

He tapped his fingers together. “All right, then. This sounds promising. I want you to do up case studies of what it would take for us to expand our enterprise. Look into getting tied in to the main distributors up in Vermont and New Hampshire.” He glanced at Hank. “I’m sure we can get in more from our end.”

Kamran’s grin had faded, and his voice was surly. “
I’m
the one running the operation.”

Sven turned to him. “Apparently not very well, if you were ready to dismiss this golden opportunity. Now you’ll be following Amanda’s guidance. I expect reports back from both of you every week while we investigate this.”

I tapped my fingers on the table. “And you’re sure the cash we get for the heroin is doing its best job for you?”

Sven glanced at me in confusion. “Sure, we have the account over at Universal Bank.”

I widened my eyes. “A checking account? Are you kidding? For the kind of volume we’ll be doing?”

Kamran’s voice was testy. “It just sits in there for a month or so,” he snapped. “Before it gets transferred on for the next purchase.”

“In that time we could be earning ten percent on it,” I insisted. I pitched my tone to hold incredulity. “Just how many millions are you missing out on with this amateur operation?”

Sven’s eyes pinned Kamran’s. “Give her the account number.”

Kamran’s jaw tightened. “But I’ve always –”

Sven leant forward, his gaze hardening, and Kamran swallowed. He pulled out a business card and scribbled some numbers on the back of it. He handed it over to me with a surly frown.

Evan nodded at Kamran. “Just remember, you’ll get your fair share of this all when it’s settled. You won’t be missing out on anything.”

Kamran sat back, his lips curled in tight anger. “I’d better not be.”

Evan’s gaze held cold mirth. “Oh, you’ll be included. I’ll make sure of that.”

Sven stretched with a satisfied smile, the tension of his minions seeming to buoy his mood. “Well, this has gone even better than I had hoped for. Amanda, you get started on what you do best. Kayla, get settled in that bar of yours and line up your customers. Brandon, you handle the logistics with Kamran here. I expect a full report in two weeks.”

He stood. “Once the ship comes back up here in the spring, I want this pipeline opened to full throttle. If we can make ten times the profit … or more …” His eyes shone at the possibility.

The rest of us stood with him, and hands were shaken all around. Evan and Brandon moved aside to let Kayla and me step past them, and then they slid into place again, subtly forming a wall between us and the other men.

Evan turned to the booth, and I could see the steel sliding into his shoulders, the strong set to his frame. Beside him, Brandon had echoed his posture.

I pitied the man who tried to get through those two.

Sven stopped, his brow creasing. “What is this?”

Evan’s voice was calm, cool, and dead serious. He said two words.

“Jim Raynor.”

And then all Hell broke loose.

Chapter 11

It was as if ten large-screen TVs had just sprung to life around me, each showing the climactic scene of a different movie, and my mind tried to track each scene in slow motion. Maybe it was the adrenaline which blasted through my body. Maybe it was the heightened awareness that death could be a blink away. Whatever it was, the sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before.

At Evan’s phrase, from behind me came the smash of the main door being flung open and the rush of heavy footsteps, accompanied by shouts of “Police! Freeze!” At the same time, the three other patrons of the bar chimed in with echoing calls from my right. Mickey grabbed up a baseball bat from behind his counter, his face set in a scowl.

But all of that was peripheral to the movement immediately before me.

Kamran’s hand flashed to behind his waist and came out with a matte black handgun. Sven leapt onto the booth’s table, staring down at Evan with absolute rage. Tom and Hank tumbled out from their side of the booth, their blazing gazes locked on Brandon.

The gun raised …

Evan whipped his body around in a spinning kick, knocking the gun to sail across the room. Sven leapt from the table at Evan, and Evan grabbed Sven by the shoulders, whipping Sven’s body up and over so they both slammed, back-down, into the floor with a force which shook the room. Kamran aimed a stomp at Evan’s kneecap, and Evan swept his leg, kicking out Kamran’s supporting leg and sending him to the floor.

Hank’s wiry arm drove a fist toward Brandon’s head. Brandon brought his right arm up, deflecting the fist across and down, turning Hank. Then Brandon followed up with his left, slamming it hard into Hank’s back. Hank dropped to his knees. Tom drilled a beefy right cross into Brandon’s stomach, and Brandon groaned, rocking back.

A familiar, musical voice sounded in my ear. “
Selamat pagi
, Amanda and Kayla. Let’s step back.”

I glanced around in surprise. Haziq was smiling in delight, an official badge of some sort hanging around his neck. I shook myself loose of the shock I’d been frozen in and moved back with him to the wall of eight or so police who stood watching the maelstrom with guns at the ready.

I drew my gaze back to the whirling chaos before me. “Aren’t you going to go help them?”

He coughed in stunned amazement. “You’re joking, right?”

Sven had grabbed a wooden chair and was swinging it down hard onto Evan’s back. Evan dove beneath the table we’d been sitting at, letting it take most of the force, then drove his heel hard into Hank’s shin. Hank’s scream shook the walls, and he collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain.

Brandon turned on Tom, whose bald head and dark tattoos glistened in the dim light. Tom growled in anger, then charged Brandon like a bull, driving him hard into the bar. Brandon’s breath blew out of him with the impact. Behind him, Mickey raised his bat in the air, and I had no idea which of the two he was aiming at.

Evan rolled to his feet, grabbed up the brick-sized metal napkin dispenser from the table, and whipped it at Mickey’s forehead. The sound of the impact rang out in the room, and Mickey dropped like a log.

Sven’s fist slammed into the side of Evan’s head, and he rocked back. Evan stepped toward Sven, turned so his back was to him, grabbed his arm, and rotated. Using his own hip as leverage, Evan pulled Sven off the ground and slammed him to the floor, landing on top of him.

Brandon put his hands on either side of the bar behind him, pressing up so he popped up to sit on the counter. He brought his knees in and up, then shot them out on either side of Tom’s thick neck. He crossed his ankles to seal the head lock, then pushed off with his arms, sending them both sailing to the ground, Brandon landing hard on top of Tom’s chest.

Evan was sitting astride Sven’s chest, his fist slamming repeatedly into the side of Sven’s head. Sven bucked hard, rolling over onto his stomach, then scrambling in an attempt to get free. Evan spun so he was sitting on Sven’s spine, facing his feet, one arm around each of Sven’s legs. Evan let the legs slide until each of Sven’s ankles was firmly locked into his armpit. Then he pressed up into a squat, leaning back. Sven’s body was now forming a reverse letter C, locked in the aptly named Boston Crab hold.

Tom was on his back, his forehead pressed into Brandon’s belt buckle. Tom’s hands pulled with all their might on Brandon’s thighs, but Brandon only cinched them tighter, sitting steadily on Tom’s chest.

Hank groaned in pain, holding his shin, his hair falling over his face like a greasy brown curtain.

And Kamran …

I turned – and my mouth dropped open in horror. Kamran was scrambling toward the far corner and the gun which lay abandoned on the grime-streaked floor.

His fingers closed around the grip.

My voice rose in a desperate call. “Evan!”

Kamran spun to a crouch, careful to keep Evan and Brandon between him and the wall of cops who were shouting at him to drop the gun.

Evan released Sven’s feet; the man collapsed to the ground without a sound. Evan put his hands out to the side in a placating gesture. “No one has to die here, Kamran. Put the gun down.”

Kamran’s eyes blazed with fury. “You bastards screwed everything up! And I’d finally hit the motherload! You’re going to pay!”

Tom had gone unconscious in Brandon’s choke-hold, and Brandon pressed to his feet, his back against the bar. His arm went up on the counter, sliding toward the area with the lemons and limes.

Evan took a step to his right, shielding Brandon’s movements with his body. He raised his hands higher. “It’s over, Kamran. It’s all over. Time to face the music.”

Kamran raised the gun. His shark teeth gleamed. “You’re the one who’s going to face your maker.”

Brandon’s voice was low and steady. “Now.”

Evan dropped to one knee, and Brandon whipped a long, gleaming-edged knife across the empty space. It drove deep into Kamran’s neck. The gun fell from Kamran’s hand as he clutched at his throat desperately, his fingers trying to hold back the spurts of blood. Then he fell to his knees. Another second, his eyes closed, and he timbered over onto one side.