Read Online Behind the Green Curtain by Riley Lashea - Free Book Online Page A

another man’s turf.
    “We were just talking about you,”
Slater continued, and Jack’s eyes moved to Mr. Taylor as he sat back down. He
tried not to think about the kinds of things his old friend and collaborator
might have said that he shouldn’t. “What? You’ve had fourteen companies?”
Slater questioned. “Only two successful. And now you’re this big shot. That is
a heart-warming story. Truly. Amazing, how you managed to turn things around
like you did.”
    “Some people just have a sense for
business,” Jack returned, hoping for a quick end to the conversation.
    “Well, I’m sure it helped that you
had your parents’ money to bail you out,” Slater uttered. “You know, until you
found your true calling.”
    Leaning forward in his chair, Mr.
Taylor seemed to suddenly realize the man who had happened by his table didn’t
end up there by chance. “Whoa, I didn’t tell him that,” Mr. Taylor stated,
though it sounded as if he agreed with Slater’s assessment.
    “How did you know where to find
me?” Jack asked, need for pretense gone.
    “Your assistant,” Slater responded.
“But don’t be too hard on her. I’m pretty free with the obstruction and
abetting threats.”
    “I can have you removed,” Jack
declared.
    “Is that really what you want to
do?” Slater asked, stepping closer to slap Jack on the shoulder as if they were
old friends. “Make a scene?”
    “I’ll, uh... I’ll get another drink,”
Mr. Taylor said in a rush, hurrying from his chair and maneuvering off through
the tables, as Jack stepped out of Slater’s false affection.
    Well aware that the best way to
handle a rat was to deal with it as expeditiously as possible, he took a vacant
seat at the table, watching Slater return to the seat he’d made his own,
looking pleased to have scored an impromptu conference.
    “What do you want?” Jack asked.
    “I want you to tell me what you’ve
done,” Slater returned without hesitation, just enough edge to his voice that
he probably thought he was menacing.
    “I haven’t done anything,” Jack
responded.
    “You have an awfully thick file at
the BRC, Mr. Halston.”
    “And, yet, nothing has ever come of
it,” Jack replied. “So, I guess this may be the one time size really doesn’t
matter.”
    “Agent after agent has believed
there is something not right about your business,” Slater stated, anger more
palpable, though his surface remained unruffled.
    “I’m allowed to make money,” Jack
countered. “That is perfectly legal.”
    “If you do it by the books,” Slater
returned, hand moving to the table to drum a loud, repetitive beat Jack
suspected was a part of his training. Glancing at the hand, he smiled in good
humor, though the noise did seem an annoyance to those at nearby tables.
    “I do it by the books,” Jack
returned.
    “In this country,” Slater
quasi-agreed. “You do most of your international work off-book, though, don’t
you?”
    Jack wasn’t expecting the question.
No one had ever gone beyond the borders before. But, still, he barely wavered.
They had no jurisdiction - not Slater, not the BRC - and he was used to these
hero-complex types, boy scouts charging in thinking they were going to save a
day that didn’t need saving. “What I do outside this country isn’t your
problem.”
    “Actually, it is.” Slater smiled
slowly. “When I called you, I was just testing the waters. I wanted to see what
you would say. We’re not the ones on you this time, Mr. Halston. Interpol has
requested our assistance, and, personally, I’m not interested in jurisdictional
disputes. I just want to see a really bad guy get what he’s got coming to him.”
    Jacket suddenly too tight, Jack
unbuttoned it, leaning forward on the table, gaze steeled. He couldn’t manage
to completely discount Slater’s words, but he could appear to do so. “Well,
thanks for the warning, and for stopping by,” he said. “Next time you want to
talk to me, let me know in