Dying For LA by Ian Jones (best adventure books to read TXT) 📗

deposit and a year’s rent on a room right there, plus clothes, and food. He could be straight again, no more jumping at shadows. He could get living again if he had some cash. He thought about waking up on the floor that morning. Like most mornings, if he was lucky. The holes in his socks. The times he had slept in car parks like this one. But with money, it would be different. He could walk around, untroubled, free. He imagined lying on a comfortable sofa, a big TV on, a cold beer in his hand.

This was that chance.

‘Ok,’ he said simply.

The man stood up, towering over him so Gallagher sprang to his feet too. Not that it made much difference, he was barely five foot seven so he was still looking upward at the man, who glowered down at him and spoke softly and slowly.

‘Understand me. Listen. We will be watching. We will see everything, and if you are caught, you shut the fuck up and say nothing to nobodies. You are, what is it, er … expendable! You are expendable. Disposable.’

‘Yeah, sure, I get that.’

Gallagher bent down and pulled out the envelope. He opened it and saw ten crisp hundred-dollar bills.

Yep, he could do this. For dollars, right now, he could do anything.

The man patted him heavily on the head and walked off, disappearing into the shadows again. Gallagher heard a car start and watched Tibor pull away. He picked up the bag and made his way back out the car park.

***

They stood together outside the police station. Casiano had spoken with her lieutenant and afterward promised to be at their beck and call if they needed anything. Judy was anxious, distracted and Warner kept tapping away on his mobile. John looked at his watch, half past three.

‘Tell you what,’ he said, ‘You two go back to doing whatever you’re doing. Me and Tom can deal with the strip club, to be honest, we’re more likely to get something out of it, keeping clear of the official involvement as it were, and we can walk over to Caesars and the MGM Grand, just keep digging. You guys get straight, and then you go to The Stratosphere later. This concierge, whatever his name is, is probably best to lean on heavily, if I know those people so the official line will be best there.’

‘Aidan Connelly,’ Judy replied.

John looked at Tom, who nodded.

‘John’s right. Listen I’ve had to deal with strip clubs a thousand times, there’s always a soldier getting into trouble in those places. There’s ways of dealing with them for sure.’

‘I ain’t arguing,’ Warner replied.

Judy looked at the three of them.

‘OK, so I won’t either. But promise me you’ll stay on the right side of the law. Please, this is wayward enough as it is.’

John held up his hand.

‘It’s a promise.’

‘Definitely,’ Tom told her. ‘I’m as much under the microscope as you guys are.’

‘I seriously doubt that,’ Judy replied, ‘but look, it’s a kind offer. I am fighting a losing battle right now, it will give me time to straighten a lot of it out. I should be able to relax after. Well, relax isn’t the right word but it’ll be easier.’

‘OK. But remember. Not a word about where you’re staying. I’m serious,’ John said.

They arranged to meet for breakfast at Caesars in the morning then got in the minivan and Warner dropped them on the strip on the corner of the MGM Grand, they watched the others disappear into the traffic heading north, then both turned and looked at the huge white hotel.

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked.

‘May as well.’

As they walked toward the entrance John could feel his sixth sense prickling him even worse. He trusted it, it had never let him down. He slowed up, and turned, as if looking across at Excalibur on the far side of the road. And he saw it straight away. A man, ducking out of sight behind a pillar under the footbridge.

‘Wait here,’ he told Reed, and then set off, moving fast, the long way around and approaching the pillar from the blind side. Reed watched, confused, and then realising something was up started walking the other way toward the same spot.

The man was still there, facing away tying to peer round the corner and John grabbed his t-shirt collar and hauled him backwards and onto the ground. As soon as he did so he punched the man twice, the first straight in the mouth breaking some teeth and the second into the right eye.

Then he pulled him up so he was sitting dazedly leaning against the pillar.

Reed joined him.

‘What, we had a tail?’

‘Yeah.’

John crouched down. The man was staring at him, confused, scared.

‘So, who told you to follow us?’ John asked quietly.

‘Fuck, fuck you!’ the man replied, at least with an attempt to stay tough.

Reed leaned down and grabbed the man’s hand and lifted it then started to twist.

‘Fuck you. I’m saying shit!’ The man blurted out trying to pull his arm free.

It did no good. Reed continued to twist and there was a pop as his shoulder dislocated. The man screamed shrilly. Reed let go and asked the same question again.

The man looked up, tears in his eyes. John searched him, there was a car key, nearly a hundred dollars in cash but nothing else. He pocketed the money and dropped the key down a drain.

‘The Russian. The Russian told me. I work for Tibor.’

‘Who’s the Russian? And who’s Tibor?’ Reed asked.

‘I just run shit for Tibor. He gave my number to the Russian. I never met him, don’t know him, don’t even know his fucking name. He said he got a call, you would be at the precinct. He told me to follow you.’

‘When?’

‘What?’

‘When did he call?’

‘Fuck man, I don’t know. About an hour ago I guess. I went there and waited. You was inside, then you came out and I followed you. He told me I had to follow the two white guys. That