Read Online The Baby And The Brandy (Ben Bracken 1) by Robert Parker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert Parker
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attempt to recruit you by a hefty organized crime syndicate. You appear to me, that you can handle yourself, and that this situation is one you will settle with or without my help. I want to know why you asked for it.’
Jack doesn’t shift his gaze at all, still burning a hole through those perfect floor to ceiling windows. He takes a minute to think about it, kneading his answer over.
‘I realize that what I want is an eye for an eye. And I don’t want any mistakes. This situation is one that I never expected to be a part of, nor one that I ever thought I’d see. The way you took care of those men a couple of years back, that no nonsense display of problem-solving, is something I need right now. And I’m not sure on my own I can deliver it. Yes, I’ve spilt blood -’
‘But you’ve realized there is a big difference between the ways it gets done,’ I interrupt. Just like for Her Majesty, only much less thinly veiled, I’m here for the dirty work.
‘You know that there is a certain detachment to pulling a trigger, a certain distance to running someone off the road in a car. And you imagine it will be lot different if you have to pull someone close, and slide a knife between their ribs, back and forth a couple of times, watch his eyes explode then glaze as you pierce something vital, then hold them while they die at your side. You need me to make sure, if that’s what’s needed for retribution, that’s what’s going to get done. And I’m the best way to make sure it will happen.’
Jack thinks about this for a long moment. In truth, I’m not surprised, nor hurt by his admission by silence. At least he’s had the guts to say it, in a fashion, unlike my previous superiors who sent me out into the field, knowing what I was going to come up against then gleefully washing their hands of the horror as soon as I was out of earshot. I am, indeed, a grisly problem solver. And a good one too. And I hope that if it comes to that, whatever happens, will be for the greater good.
I turn to the view again, leaving Jack to his silence. I begin imagining an overhead map in my head, as I take what is laid out in 3D in front of me and transform it into a top-down, flat, contour-free patchwork. I look for nuance in this, anything out of the ordinary, and for extra detail. I’ll bring up a Google map later, but it may be out of date, or featureless. If that happens, I’ll layer my own findings onto the top.
Regardless of who killed Royston Booker, and what might happen to them, curtailing the Berg’s criminal activities is something I definitely want to factor in - it’s all part of what I stand for. The abuse and endangerment of the innocent in the pursuit of monetary gain by criminal means... That is what I want to deal with. If I can use the Berg, with Jack’s help, to bring justice to Royston’s killer, I can use what I have learned to bring the Berg to account at a later date. Perhaps get some evidence of criminal activity I can drop at the police’s doorstep, something that would see them arrested, and result in their operations being shut down.
My ulterior motive is taking shape. Jack doesn’t know about my reasons for escaping prion - my new plans and purposes. He must think I’m just happy to be out and doing him a favor. Well, I will - to an extent. And then it’s my turn.
A soft rattling swoosh heralds the arrival of another car, pulling up next to us, and as soon as it has come to a stop, two men have jumped out. One wears a dark jumper, jeans and work boots, looks about 45, salt and pepper hair in a strange mid-nineties centre parting. The other, presented much more of the present era, is in full Nike sports wear, athletic but with bulk, like a wide receiver, with tension and coil. He looks like he could chase down a Mack truck and stick it in a headlock.
Salt and pepper speaks. ‘Hey, Jack, you got a minute?’
He doesn’t even glance at me, absolutely zero acknowledgement that I am there at
Jack doesn’t shift his gaze at all, still burning a hole through those perfect floor to ceiling windows. He takes a minute to think about it, kneading his answer over.
‘I realize that what I want is an eye for an eye. And I don’t want any mistakes. This situation is one that I never expected to be a part of, nor one that I ever thought I’d see. The way you took care of those men a couple of years back, that no nonsense display of problem-solving, is something I need right now. And I’m not sure on my own I can deliver it. Yes, I’ve spilt blood -’
‘But you’ve realized there is a big difference between the ways it gets done,’ I interrupt. Just like for Her Majesty, only much less thinly veiled, I’m here for the dirty work.
‘You know that there is a certain detachment to pulling a trigger, a certain distance to running someone off the road in a car. And you imagine it will be lot different if you have to pull someone close, and slide a knife between their ribs, back and forth a couple of times, watch his eyes explode then glaze as you pierce something vital, then hold them while they die at your side. You need me to make sure, if that’s what’s needed for retribution, that’s what’s going to get done. And I’m the best way to make sure it will happen.’
Jack thinks about this for a long moment. In truth, I’m not surprised, nor hurt by his admission by silence. At least he’s had the guts to say it, in a fashion, unlike my previous superiors who sent me out into the field, knowing what I was going to come up against then gleefully washing their hands of the horror as soon as I was out of earshot. I am, indeed, a grisly problem solver. And a good one too. And I hope that if it comes to that, whatever happens, will be for the greater good.
I turn to the view again, leaving Jack to his silence. I begin imagining an overhead map in my head, as I take what is laid out in 3D in front of me and transform it into a top-down, flat, contour-free patchwork. I look for nuance in this, anything out of the ordinary, and for extra detail. I’ll bring up a Google map later, but it may be out of date, or featureless. If that happens, I’ll layer my own findings onto the top.
Regardless of who killed Royston Booker, and what might happen to them, curtailing the Berg’s criminal activities is something I definitely want to factor in - it’s all part of what I stand for. The abuse and endangerment of the innocent in the pursuit of monetary gain by criminal means... That is what I want to deal with. If I can use the Berg, with Jack’s help, to bring justice to Royston’s killer, I can use what I have learned to bring the Berg to account at a later date. Perhaps get some evidence of criminal activity I can drop at the police’s doorstep, something that would see them arrested, and result in their operations being shut down.
My ulterior motive is taking shape. Jack doesn’t know about my reasons for escaping prion - my new plans and purposes. He must think I’m just happy to be out and doing him a favor. Well, I will - to an extent. And then it’s my turn.
A soft rattling swoosh heralds the arrival of another car, pulling up next to us, and as soon as it has come to a stop, two men have jumped out. One wears a dark jumper, jeans and work boots, looks about 45, salt and pepper hair in a strange mid-nineties centre parting. The other, presented much more of the present era, is in full Nike sports wear, athletic but with bulk, like a wide receiver, with tension and coil. He looks like he could chase down a Mack truck and stick it in a headlock.
Salt and pepper speaks. ‘Hey, Jack, you got a minute?’
He doesn’t even glance at me, absolutely zero acknowledgement that I am there at
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