Main Bad Guy by Nick Kolakowski

Author:Nick Kolakowski
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books

15.

Walker rolled out a blanket on the gravel rooftop and knelt down, pulling the rifle-parts from his bag. He fumbled a little when assembling the weapon. He estimated the range at one-fifty yards, light wind. Through the scope he saw people silhouetted against the plastic sheeting that stretched around the inner perimeter of the tower floor, their shapes bulky and spiked in ways that suggested body armor, armaments, serious firepower. Frantic movement, a hoarse shout lost in the wind moaning off the river.

What had Fiona told him once about her employers? They shot first, asked questions last. Fierce types. That was okay, actually. Aggression could be turned against itself, like a rabid dog chewing its own legs.

On the walk from his apartment to the rooftop Walker had stopped in a fast-food place on Vernon to purchase a large soda with fries. To an outsider it might have seemed callous, stopping for snacks while his child sat in a panic room surrounded by armed men, but he trusted Fiona to keep everything locked down until he assessed the situation. If he wanted to stay useful, he needed the calories.

The lights reflecting off the sheeting blocked his view of the interior. He needed to wait for his moment. Flat on his stomach, eye to the scope, he tried to settle into the blanket as best he could, gravel biting his elbows and knees through the thin fabric. When was the last time he had fired this rifle at a human being? Managua?

In addition to the long-gun, he had a pistol with a silencer in the rifle bag, and enough ammunition to last him all night, if things came to that. As much as he had enjoyed his little self-imposed exile up north, the ritual of assembling his armory had activated a deep and pleasurable circuit in his head. He imagined that a chef preparing for a long dinner shift, or a monk squaring away the temple for morning services, felt much the same way.

On the gravel beside him, his phone rang. He tapped the screen without shifting his eye from the scope, expecting to hear Fiona. But the voice that filled his earbud was unwelcome.

“Hey,” Sully said. “We’re in the city, thought we’d swing by, have a chat.”

“You know the first rule of threatening people, Sully?” Walker helped himself to a fry.

Sully snarled: “You’re always saying I’m threat—”

“The first rule is, you don’t do it,” Walker said, talking over him. “If you’re going to do someone harm, you don’t warn them, first. I used to think you were such a smart guy, when you’re really just another punk. What do you want?”

“Just a talk, dude. We can work things out.”

Walker shifted his gaze to the phone, extended a finger to end the call. Stopped. “You know what? I’ll take you up on that.”

“Okay?” Sully sounded surprised. “Where you at?”

Walker gave him the address and hung up. That paranoid bastard would expect some sort of trap, of course, but that was okay. A long time ago, in the jungle, Walker had learned to treat confusion as one of his best friends.

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