Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) by Paul Heatley (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📗

consider,” Ronald says. “Who got him out of the hospital? Where’d they take him?” A contact in the hospital had told them Anthony had been checked out, but he didn’t know by whom or where they had taken him. “Is it the same traitor we’re talkin’ about right here right now, or are there more? Hell, was it someone else entirely, and if so, how did they know what had happened to him, where he was?”

“He was undercover,” Michael says, speaking up for the first time in a while, having previously allowed the others to voice their thoughts. “In terms of the hospital, it was probably his buddies in law enforcement got him out of there. They’ve probably got him in a safe house halfway across the country by now, setting him up with a new identity, trying to make it so we can’t find him.”

“We’ll fuckin’ find him,” Peter says.

Michael nods. “It’ll take some hard work and a lot of digging, but we’ll find him all right. We can’t just let this slide. Gotta make an example outta the asshole. The law can’t go putting no rat in our ranks and thinking they’re just gonna get away with it scot-free.”

“What’d they even bother putting him in for?” Ronald says. “What were they hoping to find out? You’d think they could find a better way to spend their time than just hassling us.”

“You’d think that,” Michael says. “But it’d be wrong. That’s exactly how they wanna spend their time. Just thinking up new ways to aggravate and piss us off.”

“They were probably trying to find where the drugs come from,” Michael says.

“Maybe there’s somethin’ we’re forgetting to consider,” Harry says.

All eyes turn to him. “And what’s that?” Ronald says.

“The person who gave us the information on him in the first place.” Harry locks eyes with Michael. “The person who told us what he was up to. What part do they play in it all? They have something to do with him getting out?”

“That’s an awful complicated way for them to go about doing things,” Michael says.

“Yeah, well, with these kinds of assholes, who knows what they’re thinking or planning or exactly what they’re trying to do.”

“We’re getting off track here,” Ronald says. “We can consider all this other shit at a later date – right now, we need to think about what really matters. Who warned him, and are they in our ranks? ’Cause if so, we gotta flush that motherfucker out and make a real goddamn example. One that won’t soon be forgotten.”

Michael realizes Peter hasn’t said anything for a while. That his fists are no longer compulsively clenching as they earlier were, that he’s looking down into the palms of his hands, thoughtful. “Somethin’ up?” he says. “Anythin’ you wanna share with the rest of us, Terminator?”

Peter shakes his head, clasps his hands. “No,” he says. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About all of this. A traitor. Just trynna think who it could be.”

There’s a pause; then Harry is the first to say what they’re all thinking. “Your brother was awful close with Anthony.” He doesn’t say anything more, just lets the statement hang there.

Peter glares at him across the table. “It ain’t my brother,” he says, but Michael can’t help but notice he doesn’t sound entirely convincing – neither to them, or to himself.

“You sure about that?” Harry says. “You absolutely certain?”

“Yeah, I am. I know Steve better’n any of you. It ain’t somethin’ he would do – he wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Michael says. “Right now, we gotta consider everyone outside this room a suspect. We gotta be wary of everyone. Watch all the boys closely. If any of them are acting weird, anything strange, anything out of place, we bring it here, to the council, straight away. That clear to everyone?”

They all nod, mumble that it is.

“And we spread the word. We get it out, we’re still looking for Anthony. We ain’t forgot him, and we ain’t gonna forget him. No matter where he’s gone, we’re gonna find him eventually.”

“We worried about blowback?” Harry says. “It’s lookin’ like he’s got friends.”

“From his buddies, maybe. He ain’t in any shape to come after us. Tell our boys to stay frosty, keep their eyes open.”

“That’s a lotta stuff they gotta remember,” Ronald says. He’s grinning. “Sure they’re gonna keep it all in mind?”

“They’re soldiers,” Michael says. “It’s time they act like it. If they can’t remember a couple of little orders, then they got no place in the Arm.”

The meeting finished, they head upstairs, done. Michael notices Peter remains quiet, still looks like he’s thinking. He doesn’t press it for now. Leaves it. He’ll talk to Harry about it later. Peter may be confident his brother had nothing to do with Anthony’s attempted escape, but Michael knows better than to trust anyone unconditionally.

At the top of the stairs, they come out into the kitchen. Linda, Michael’s wife, is at the counter, making herself a coffee. She smiles at them as they file through. Michael goes to her, and she kisses his cheek.

“How you doin’, Linda?” Harry says.

“Good as ever,” Linda says. “Y’all doin’ well?”

“That coffee sure smells good,” Ronald says.

“Just brewed it up fresh. You wanna cup?”

“Nah, best not,” Ronald says, looking like he already regrets his decision not to partake. “I’d best be on my way.”

“Same here,” Peter says, pulling open the back door. “I’ll talk to y’all later.” He leaves, closely followed by Ronald. Michael and Harry exchange a look; then Harry gives Linda a brief embrace, says his goodbyes, and makes his own exit.

“What was up with him?” Linda says, drinking.

“Who?” Michael says, though he’s sure he already knows.

“The Terminator.”

Michael shrugs it off for now, just says, “He’s got some stuff on his mind. He’s pissed off Anthony got away.”

“Mm.” Linda nods, like she’s just as annoyed. “How was the meeting? Make any progress?”

“Not particularly.” He tells her what they talked about, though doesn’t go into his potential suspicions regarding Peter’s brother.

Linda takes a seat at