Read Online Black And Blue (Quentin Black Mystery #5) by JC Andrijeski - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: JC Andrijeski
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back to the hotel, okay? Drink it when I get back.” I’m just screwing with him a little, he added in my head. Don’t worry, ilya. It’s an act...
The drinking part isn’t, I sent back, annoyed. Does your need to piss off Mozar really have to include you being half-drunk while you’re out hunting yet another professional killer?
I bit my lip as my own words sank in.
Black kissed my neck. Don’t worry about me, ilya.... please. I plan to eat a lot of food when our meal comes. I’ll be cold sober. Promise.
I didn’t answer, but I couldn’t help gritting my teeth.
I’d promised myself I’d stop acting insane with him, though.
“Black?” Mozar said, his voice holding an edge. “Are you with us or not? I don’t really want the Feds knowing we hired an outsider for this... not yet, anyway... so I need to make a few arrangements if you’re coming. I need an answer...” He checked his watch. “...preferably in the next ten minutes.”
I stared at Mozar. “What kind of arrangements? Why don’t you want the Feds knowing you hired him?”
Black squeezed my thigh under the table. I refused to soften, looking only at Mozar.
Mozar glanced between us and sighed.
“We don’t think the mole is in our department,” he explained. “We think it’s one of the Feds.” Pausing at Black’s grunt, he glanced at Hawking before continuing. “I’d prefer to keep them out of the loop on a few things until we can confirm that.”
“Why would a rival organization tip you off at all?” I folded my arms, still thinking over everything I’d heard. “Why not just break into the car themselves? Pull the files and take out the killer with their own people? Or hell, move the target before the killer can get to him?”
“Because it’s probably better for them if we do it,” Hawking said, interrupting Mozar. “It also directly exposes their competition to law enforcement scrutiny.” Grunting, he added, to Black as much as me, “These bastards throw one another under the bus all the time, Miri. Sometimes they do it formally to get immunity from the Feds, but mainly they do it to grab market share.”
Mozar glanced at Hawking. “Assuming the mole works for a rival organization, there’s a good chance they want to take over some portion of the import market in Los Angeles.”
I frowned, looking at Black. He didn’t look surprised.
He was definitely reading these guys.
“As far as the specifics of the arrangements for your husband,” Mozar added. “I was hoping to get him in a uniform for the night.” Mozar motioned towards Black’s chest with one hand, scowling. “I thought it would be the easiest way to make him invisible. Given his height and build, I need to work on that right away, though, if he’s in.”
“A uniform?” I blinked. “Like a police uniform?”
“Yes.”
Black chuckled, nudging my shoulder when I glared at him. Maybe I can bring that back to the hotel with me, doc. Along with a few sets of handcuffs... maybe a night stick.
“People get shot in uniforms,” I said, turning my glare back on Mozar.
Mozar shook his head.
“Unlikely, in this case. I think it’s much more likely to protect him, Miriam, which is why I proposed it.” He gave Black a harder look. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the paid mercenary community is relatively small, is it not? I don’t want our shooter looking too closely at Mr. Black, on the off-chance they might have crossed paths before.”
That definitely didn’t reassure me.
“Who’s the target?” I said, frowning again as I refolded my arms. “The second one?”
Mozar sighed, then pulled over the relevant file on the table, opening it. “Ronald Kenneth Sterling is the head of customs and inventory oversight for The Konstantin Group, one of the biggest shipping companies operating out of the Port of Los Angeles. Which again goes along with the F.B.I. theory that the people being eliminated were likely greasing the wheels for one of the
The drinking part isn’t, I sent back, annoyed. Does your need to piss off Mozar really have to include you being half-drunk while you’re out hunting yet another professional killer?
I bit my lip as my own words sank in.
Black kissed my neck. Don’t worry about me, ilya.... please. I plan to eat a lot of food when our meal comes. I’ll be cold sober. Promise.
I didn’t answer, but I couldn’t help gritting my teeth.
I’d promised myself I’d stop acting insane with him, though.
“Black?” Mozar said, his voice holding an edge. “Are you with us or not? I don’t really want the Feds knowing we hired an outsider for this... not yet, anyway... so I need to make a few arrangements if you’re coming. I need an answer...” He checked his watch. “...preferably in the next ten minutes.”
I stared at Mozar. “What kind of arrangements? Why don’t you want the Feds knowing you hired him?”
Black squeezed my thigh under the table. I refused to soften, looking only at Mozar.
Mozar glanced between us and sighed.
“We don’t think the mole is in our department,” he explained. “We think it’s one of the Feds.” Pausing at Black’s grunt, he glanced at Hawking before continuing. “I’d prefer to keep them out of the loop on a few things until we can confirm that.”
“Why would a rival organization tip you off at all?” I folded my arms, still thinking over everything I’d heard. “Why not just break into the car themselves? Pull the files and take out the killer with their own people? Or hell, move the target before the killer can get to him?”
“Because it’s probably better for them if we do it,” Hawking said, interrupting Mozar. “It also directly exposes their competition to law enforcement scrutiny.” Grunting, he added, to Black as much as me, “These bastards throw one another under the bus all the time, Miri. Sometimes they do it formally to get immunity from the Feds, but mainly they do it to grab market share.”
Mozar glanced at Hawking. “Assuming the mole works for a rival organization, there’s a good chance they want to take over some portion of the import market in Los Angeles.”
I frowned, looking at Black. He didn’t look surprised.
He was definitely reading these guys.
“As far as the specifics of the arrangements for your husband,” Mozar added. “I was hoping to get him in a uniform for the night.” Mozar motioned towards Black’s chest with one hand, scowling. “I thought it would be the easiest way to make him invisible. Given his height and build, I need to work on that right away, though, if he’s in.”
“A uniform?” I blinked. “Like a police uniform?”
“Yes.”
Black chuckled, nudging my shoulder when I glared at him. Maybe I can bring that back to the hotel with me, doc. Along with a few sets of handcuffs... maybe a night stick.
“People get shot in uniforms,” I said, turning my glare back on Mozar.
Mozar shook his head.
“Unlikely, in this case. I think it’s much more likely to protect him, Miriam, which is why I proposed it.” He gave Black a harder look. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the paid mercenary community is relatively small, is it not? I don’t want our shooter looking too closely at Mr. Black, on the off-chance they might have crossed paths before.”
That definitely didn’t reassure me.
“Who’s the target?” I said, frowning again as I refolded my arms. “The second one?”
Mozar sighed, then pulled over the relevant file on the table, opening it. “Ronald Kenneth Sterling is the head of customs and inventory oversight for The Konstantin Group, one of the biggest shipping companies operating out of the Port of Los Angeles. Which again goes along with the F.B.I. theory that the people being eliminated were likely greasing the wheels for one of the
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