Read Online Blood and Sand by Matthew James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Matthew James
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the word Mr. like it’s an insult. I return the favor.
“I see you’ve met Dr. Kane, he is in charge of security for my father and me. Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Jafari?”
Omar cranes his eyes up at the man, who could easily be a foot taller and over a hundred pounds heavier than him. It’s as if J.J. Watt and Rob Gronkowski had a baby. Seriously, Kane is a monster. I think the smaller man’s bladder is doing a little tap dance number right now because he’s sweating…a lot, even in this heat. Kane gives him a mischievous grin and gives him a wink of his own. It’s a look that says, “Please, try me. I dare you.”
Omar turns quickly, losing the battle of wits and faces dad, “Right this way Dr. Boyd, my car is fully fueled and ready to take you into town.” He climbs into the dust covered S.U.V. and shuts the driver side door, out of ear shot.
Dad turns and gives us a disapproving look.
“What?” I ask, but it’s Kane that continues.
“We need to see how he reacts when threatened. You may trust this man, but I don’t.” The look in his eyes is as intense as starring down a Great White. “If you want me to keep you and your son alive then I need to operate under my own measures. We have no idea who we can trust. As of right now he is in my grey-zone. You two…” He points to us, “Are in my white-zone.”
“And Zero?” I ask.
“They are in my black-zone, also known as my shit list. You don’t want to be on that. It generally ends badly.”
I laugh and give his shoulder a slap of my own, “I bet.”
Dad climbs into the front passenger seat while Kane and I open our respective back passenger doors. Before we climb in I look over the roof at Kane, “So, Dr. Jeremy Kane, is it?”
He looks up at me with a shrug and a grin, “I have a PhD in bullshit, but, yes the name really is Jeremy.” I nod and we climb in. We buckle up as Omar pulls out onto what passes for the main highway.
I extend my hand to Kane and say, “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”
Kane does the same, “You too, Harrison.” I wince, not in pain, but at the use of my birth name, immediately regretting my attempt at being a smartass.
Omar pulls us into the left lane and quickly accelerates to 60 miles per hour. It’s a relatively short 30 minute drive from the Djanet airport to the small town outside the site. The A.C. is blowing hard and feels incredible in this brutal heat. I tip my head back and shut my eyes. But, before I nod off I get a nudge in the side. I look over at Kane.
“Watch this,” he whispers. He pulls out the biggest bullet I’ve ever seen. Must be one of his 50 caliber rounds, I think. He taps on my dad’s shoulder, “Here Dr. Boyd, take a look at this.”
Dad nonchalantly takes the object without noticing it. Then, I hear him gasp and he turns and looks back at us.
“What’s this?” he asks. He holds the bullet up for everyone to see, including Omar, who glances in his rearview mirror.
“This, Dr. Boyd,” Kane plucks the huge round from Dad’s fingers and removes one of his Desert Eagles from his pack, ejects the magazine and inserts the bullet. He glances up and notices Omar staring at him, eyes wide.
Kane slams the magazine back in hard; with more force than needed I’m sure, though he gets the desired effect. Omar noticeably flinches and the Land Rover swerves just a hair to the right.
Kane holds the intimidating weapon up and says, “This is what happens when someone screws with me.”
15
He stepped out from inside a home on the corner of the small street facing the open desert, lifting a phone to his ear. He had to cup his hand around the mouth piece in order for the caller to hear him over the howling wind.
“Have they arrived, Whitten?”
Tommy ‘Razor’ Whitten rolled his eyes at the shear disrespect his employer had for him and the other people in their organization. The only reason any of them continued to put up with him was because the pay was
“I see you’ve met Dr. Kane, he is in charge of security for my father and me. Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Jafari?”
Omar cranes his eyes up at the man, who could easily be a foot taller and over a hundred pounds heavier than him. It’s as if J.J. Watt and Rob Gronkowski had a baby. Seriously, Kane is a monster. I think the smaller man’s bladder is doing a little tap dance number right now because he’s sweating…a lot, even in this heat. Kane gives him a mischievous grin and gives him a wink of his own. It’s a look that says, “Please, try me. I dare you.”
Omar turns quickly, losing the battle of wits and faces dad, “Right this way Dr. Boyd, my car is fully fueled and ready to take you into town.” He climbs into the dust covered S.U.V. and shuts the driver side door, out of ear shot.
Dad turns and gives us a disapproving look.
“What?” I ask, but it’s Kane that continues.
“We need to see how he reacts when threatened. You may trust this man, but I don’t.” The look in his eyes is as intense as starring down a Great White. “If you want me to keep you and your son alive then I need to operate under my own measures. We have no idea who we can trust. As of right now he is in my grey-zone. You two…” He points to us, “Are in my white-zone.”
“And Zero?” I ask.
“They are in my black-zone, also known as my shit list. You don’t want to be on that. It generally ends badly.”
I laugh and give his shoulder a slap of my own, “I bet.”
Dad climbs into the front passenger seat while Kane and I open our respective back passenger doors. Before we climb in I look over the roof at Kane, “So, Dr. Jeremy Kane, is it?”
He looks up at me with a shrug and a grin, “I have a PhD in bullshit, but, yes the name really is Jeremy.” I nod and we climb in. We buckle up as Omar pulls out onto what passes for the main highway.
I extend my hand to Kane and say, “Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”
Kane does the same, “You too, Harrison.” I wince, not in pain, but at the use of my birth name, immediately regretting my attempt at being a smartass.
Omar pulls us into the left lane and quickly accelerates to 60 miles per hour. It’s a relatively short 30 minute drive from the Djanet airport to the small town outside the site. The A.C. is blowing hard and feels incredible in this brutal heat. I tip my head back and shut my eyes. But, before I nod off I get a nudge in the side. I look over at Kane.
“Watch this,” he whispers. He pulls out the biggest bullet I’ve ever seen. Must be one of his 50 caliber rounds, I think. He taps on my dad’s shoulder, “Here Dr. Boyd, take a look at this.”
Dad nonchalantly takes the object without noticing it. Then, I hear him gasp and he turns and looks back at us.
“What’s this?” he asks. He holds the bullet up for everyone to see, including Omar, who glances in his rearview mirror.
“This, Dr. Boyd,” Kane plucks the huge round from Dad’s fingers and removes one of his Desert Eagles from his pack, ejects the magazine and inserts the bullet. He glances up and notices Omar staring at him, eyes wide.
Kane slams the magazine back in hard; with more force than needed I’m sure, though he gets the desired effect. Omar noticeably flinches and the Land Rover swerves just a hair to the right.
Kane holds the intimidating weapon up and says, “This is what happens when someone screws with me.”
15
He stepped out from inside a home on the corner of the small street facing the open desert, lifting a phone to his ear. He had to cup his hand around the mouth piece in order for the caller to hear him over the howling wind.
“Have they arrived, Whitten?”
Tommy ‘Razor’ Whitten rolled his eyes at the shear disrespect his employer had for him and the other people in their organization. The only reason any of them continued to put up with him was because the pay was
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