The Bootneck (Connor Reed Series Book 1) by Quentin Black

Author:Quentin Black [Black, Quentin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Trachinidae Publishers
Published: 2017-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

Damian sat in a Volvo—a work car—his phone screen displayed to the American assassin beside him. The screen showed the schematics of the building the American was to occupy, along with a more general overhead view of the area that he was to be ‘working’ in.

“Do you need these forwarding to your phone?” Damian asked, with only a hint of an accent.

“No, thanks.”

As he watched the American get out of the vehicle, he made a quick text to Makar to confirm his entering the building.

Damian, though trusted, was still kept out of the details regarding the target and the implications. That was the way it was in the Russian Bratva; a need-to-know basis governed everything. However, he could sense it was important as Makar was handling the operation personally, which he almost never did. They had also brought in an outsider—this American. Still, Makar knew what he was doing—he always did.

Damian remembered the proposition Makar had made to him outside the bar when they had first met. It had been that he could have his watch ‘without any legal repercussions’ if he could take it off him. He had laughed to himself at the thought of tearing this businessman’s head off. This ceased when the Russian let it be known—in Polish—that he knew his name and was aware of his former unit. The man’s demeanour was off-putting too. The stranger, a little shorter and around ten kilograms lighter, exuded an eerie calm.

Damian had taken a short mental checklist and noted the bulbous knuckles and slight cauliflower ear. The sharp jaw signified a low body fat percentage despite the stockiness of his physique. Still, it was a fight and Damian had won countless of those and not lost since his school days. The watch must have been worth five figures alone. He knew about these things.

Damian had nodded his consent. His smirk now forced as the man led the way around the corner. They had walked around the corner down a small alcove where the deliveries were brought in. Makar took off his suit jacket, folding it neatly before laying it on the top of a bin. He had placed his watch upon it. Instinct had told Damian not to rush his opponent and they circled one another.

Damian threw out a double jab. He had been startled at the Russian’s speed, as he had slipped to the right and fired a left-handed blow into Damian’s mercifully tightened solar plexus. Damian had managed to pivot before the follow up. He feinted with a right and threw a jab. Makar ducked it but Damian had caught hold of the back of the head with his bear-like palm. He was astonished to find his thrusting knee was blocked by a stabbing elbow. His gripping hand was thrown off with the web of the man’s right hand.

The Russian’s head thudded off his cheek bone with a resounding crack. His cheek was hot with the pain that would later come. Damian briefly wondered why his adversary had not gone for the finish as the ram-like butt had dazed him.

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