The Suppressor Erik Carter (books suggested by bill gates TXT) đ
- Author: Erik Carter
Book online «The Suppressor Erik Carter (books suggested by bill gates TXT) đ». Author Erik Carter
She didnât break a smile, but she couldnât help but warm to his disarming, unassuming quality, which paired well with his humble good looks and tall, broad-shouldered body.
No wonder the Farone chick had gone gaga over him.
âBurtonâs been using the Farone counterfeiting presses to fund some really bad dudes,â she said, âlike the one who wrote that manifesto. Thatâs why Iâm ⊠um, undercover.â
Rowe reached into his pocket and took out a small notebook. It had a bright yellow plastic cover with white lettering that labeled it as a PenPal.
She snorted. âYouâre taking notes?â
He popped a pencil from the spiral binding and started writing. âTrust me. I need to.â
âDo you just carry that thing around with you?â
He didnât look up. âContinue, please.â
âNine months ago a guy named Keith Sutton tried to used counterfeit bills to buy a shitload of weapons in Boston. Caught in the act. Escaped police. A couple days later, on a different side of the country, here in Pensacola, of all places, he was found deadâtwo bullet holes in his chest and weighted ropes around his ankles. Someone tried to sink him in the bay, but olâ Sutton was more buoyant than theyâd counted on. Since the Farone crime syndicate is known for counterfeiting, a connection to the Farones was obvious.â
Rowe scribbled away. âWhy the Farones? Thereâs gotta be plenty of decent counterfeiters up north.â
âItâs more complicated than just counterfeit bills. Thatâs why I staged the break-in tonight. Thereâs alsoâŠâ She trailed off. She was giving him too much. A moment of consideration, and she pivoted. âJust understand that everything is tied to Burton.â
Rowe studied her, wanting the extra info she wasnât sharing. She could see him weighing his options. Finally he said, âAnd all of this relates to tonightâs hit on the Rojas?â
âIn a manner of speaking. Burton told me tonightâs the night heâs taking over the Farone family.â
Roweâs pencil came to a sudden stop. He looked away.
The guyâs long undercover investigation had surely consumed himâhis time, his energy, his mental healthâand the deep lines on his forehead said that the information sheâd just shared had hit him hard.
Heâd been at this for several months.
That was a hell of a long time to be undercover.
She should know.
âWhich means you need to be especially careful tonight,â she said. Roweâs attention returned to her. âAnd we need to figure out all we can.â
âWe?â
âYou and me. Weâre a team now.â
Rowe shook his head. âIâm not going.â
âCome again?â
âIâm not going to the Roja hit tonight. I promised C.C.â
She forced something resembling a smile onto her face. âC.C.? Cecilia, you mean?â
Rowe nodded. âMy lieutenant planned to pull me out in the event of something like this, to âarrestâ me at the next big hit. I was getting out tonight anyway. C.C. has a bad feeling about the Roja hit; I promised her I wouldnât go.â
She could no longer muster a mediating smile.
âListen, Rowe, you are going tonight.â She glared at him. âThis is much more important than a promise to your little girlfriend.â
She paused and again weighed how much she should tell him. She went with her gut instinct.
âBurton has something else in mind, something even bigger than funding anarchists. This past week, heâs been telling me about a bigger vision of his, an idea of using other Farone family resources to get into activities more lucrative than printing fake money.â
âWhat resources are those?â
She shrugged. âThatâs what weâre gonna find out, teammate.â
She turned and headed for the door.
Without looking back, she said, âNow, come on. We gotta get you back into town.â
Chapter Twelve
An hour later, Jake was back in Charlieâs musty old Taurus. Charlie guided the car to a stop behind the other parked vehicles, then gave a quick flash of his brights before extinguishing the headlights entirely.
The car in front of them flashed its brake lights.
A moment later, so too did another car farther up the alley.
Three vehicles in position, and theyâd acknowledged each other, a three-car train idling in a dark alley with Charlieâs Taurus as the caboose.
The two-story brick walls loomed high on either side, only a few feet away, marred by mildew and fissures. The broken windows were dusty and dark. Lighting was scant and came from a single fixture above a utility door, left on undoubtedly to curb off intruders, though the patches of graffiti said the tactic hadnât been entirely effective.
The bluish light from this simple security precaution was in contrast to the street beyond, which glowed a faint yellow-orange. Past the street was the wide-open parking lot where the Rojasâ truck was to arrive. A beat-up chain-link fence surrounded the lot, and in the distance was the abandoned school, a sprawling two-story brick building, completely dark and overgrown with untended plant life.
Jake took his cellular phone from his pocket, illuminated the green-colored screen to check the time: 6:27.
He pressed the 1 button and held it for a moment. Speed-dial.
Charlie leaned over. âWho ya calling?â
âC.C.â
Soon Jake would need to call Tanner, let him know he was in position. But first he was going to come clean to C.C., tell her heâd broken his promise, that heâd had no choice but to break it, that heâd come to the Roja hit.
Charlie chuckled. âNot even married yet, and sheâs already got you checking in with her. Man, youâre whipped. Wah-PSSH!â
Jake shook his head and held the phone to his ear.
Chapter Thirteen
Burton approached the backside of Wagner High Schoolâtwo stories of brick with a grand, tiered entryway, all of it eaten by ivy and surrounded by unsightly bushes and crape myrtles and a few wretched palms. Tangles of weeds crawled out of the deep crevices in the sidewalk.
He trotted up the three limestone steps to the main entrance, which had been covered by a section of chain-link. Someone had cut a gap through the fence large enough for a grown man to fit through, and evidently this had been done some time ago, as the cuts in the wire were as rusted over as the
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