Page 100 of Double Shot
“Why don’t we use silencers?”
“Because movie silencers are fiction,” I said, again, not for the first time.
“I wish they worked like that, my job would be a lot easier,” Lach said.
“Ugh, why can’t I just shoot heeeeerrr?” She sounded like a petulant child, but by now it’d quite lost its charm.
“She’s not a dinosaur inJurassic Park.” Lach put a hand on her good shoulder. “And as much I agree with you on killing her, Roan might be right. If we go in guns out, we get in a lot of trouble, more than if we just waited.”
“We’ve also been spotted,” I added. There was a familiar face standing at the curb, a cigarette between his lips and phone pulled out. The lens could easily be pointed at us. “Pull over, let me out, then go park. Wait for me to call.” Lach looked over at me and nodded in agreement. “After I call, we’ll have lunch,” I said.
* * *
“It’s been a long time,”I said walking up to the man.
He tucked the phone back into his pocket. He wore an off-the-rack suit, his light brown hair close cropped. He had a shadow of a red beard coming in on his square jaw and practically no neck to speak of, it was so wide and near constricted by his collar and tie. His brow ridge, pronounced as it was, gave the illusion of stupidity but Kurt Worthington was not a stupid man.
“It has, Conan, it has,” he replied.
“How are the kids?” I asked.
“You know good and bloody well I was never daft enough to plant any seeds, mate.” he gave a laugh, and we shook hands. “When was the last time we saw each other?”
“Camp Bastion, Kabul,” I said. “’06.”
“That’s right, been a long time, then.”
“What brings you to Indigo City?”
“The only thing that matters; work.”
“Fair, anything you care to talk about?” I asked.
“Now,I’mfair certain you can make a good guess.”
“I was hoping it was a happy coincidence.” I nodded. “Can you spare one of those?”
“When did you take up smoking?” he asked.
“There’s a time and place,” I said, accepting the cigarette he held out to me.
“True, looking for trouble?” he asked.
“It has a way of finding me, and keeping me well paid.” I laughed, tapping the filter against the side of my hand.
“Who were your friends?” he asked.
“If you’re working for who I think you’re working for, you probably know.”
“Right you are, as always,” he said.
“I was never wrong when it mattered.” I smiled.
“You were only bad at cards.” He passed me a small plastic lighter. “How are you doing these days? heard you had a stint as a POW.”
I placed the filter between my lips and rolled the wheel of the lighter with my thumb, sparking it to life and taking a moment to draw the tobacco smoke into my lungs.
“It wasn’t pleasant, but I’ve still got all of my fingers, teeth, and half of my toes.” I puffed on the smoke and got it going.
