Trust Me, I'm a Banker (Dave Hart 2) by David Charters

Author:David Charters
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elliott & Thompson

AFTER ANOTHER night of relentless drugs, booze and hookers, even my stamina’s being tested. Today is a 3G day – I feel I’m labouring under three times the force of gravity. Worse yet, I’m actually starting to get bored. Really!

Did I say drugs? Okay, I am getting into drugs in a minor way, and probably have been for a little while now, but only coke, and not every night. It’s far more common than you might think, and it’s pretty harmless really. It gives me a buzz, keeps me flying. The girls bring it with them – it’s a way for them to earn a little extra pocket money on top of what I give them.

The shadows round my eyes are getting darker now, and my face seems more lined – more distinguished – and there are more grey hairs. I suppose I’m growing into my role, looking the part more, getting more miles on the clock.

Speaking of which, I perk up as I remember that today I get to pick up my new toy, a silver grey Bentley Azure convertible. An awesome, throbbing power machine, rather like her owner. I take a cab to the garage, have a half-hour briefing on how she performs – shame they don’t offer this with women – then cruise round to Two Livers’ flat in Mayfair, to collect her and take her down to Sussex, to a disused airfield that serves as the UK headquarters of MOSS.

Mike Moss looks like a wiry prop forward. He has wavy dark hair, broad shoulders and exceptionally large hands. He speaks in an almost unnaturally soft voice, and is quiet and deferential in the way that you can only ever hope to be if you enjoy complete confidence in your ability to kill any human being on the planet.

His office is spartan, as I half expected, with posters of weapons on the walls and photographs of convoys crossing deserts. The coffee is instant, from a jar by a kettle in the corner, and he makes it himself. It’s a remarkably low overhead operation, even though it’s picked up contracts worth eighty-million dollars in the last twelve months alone.

He’s googled me, and starts by congratulating me on what I did to the ‘bad guys’ in Jamaica. We have the sort of conversation that you can only have between men who have faced the ultimate challenge and won.

‘How was it?’

‘Tough.’

‘Did you think about it much afterwards?’

‘Sure.’

‘You always do the first time. I shouldn’t say this, but it gets easier.’

Lots of things left unsaid, and probably best so in my case.

He’s also checked out Grossbank, and in the nicest possible way, doesn’t know what we can do for him. Under normal circumstances, he’d be right, but he doesn’t know how desperate we are. I let Two Livers do the talking.

‘Mike, this company needs additional financial resources to expand.’

‘No, we don’t. We’re a cash machine. Completely flexible. Bring people in as we need them. Keep the overheads low. Look at this place.

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