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shaking finger down the alleyway. ‘Down there.’

‘Did he run off?’

‘No. He was taken.’

‘Taken?’

‘Someone grabbed him.’

‘Where were you?’

‘I ran.’

‘Why were you with him?’ the guy said incredulously. ‘Who are you?’

‘A nobody,’ Samuel said. ‘A piece of shit. A useless waste of space. That’s who I am.’

No one answered that.

One of the suits said, ‘Do you know who Rico is?’

‘The son of someone important?’ Samuel said.

A pause.

‘Yeah,’ the guy said. ‘You could say that.’

‘You’re his bodyguards?’ Samuel said as the veil finally cleared and realisation struck him.

‘You could say that,’ the guy repeated. ‘We’re a little more than bodyguards.’

‘He ran off on you?’

‘He sure did.’

‘Where’d you see him?’

‘Back there. You two were moving fast.’

‘We were chasing someone.’

‘Who?’

‘Doesn’t matter anymore. You going to get him back?’

‘We’ll try. Can you show us exactly where he went?’

Samuel nodded. Shouldered past them, out of the middle of the pack, and led them down the alleyway.

They followed, guns drawn.

Samuel’s pulse rose once more.

He felt alive again.

He smiled.

This is fun.

The men behind him exuded the vibe of a pack of rabid animals. He could sense it below their demeanours, which they were still keeping cool and professional. Something brewed under there. The cartels, Samuel remembered. Maybe these were the famed sicarios that stabbed and shot and maimed their way through their boss’s enemies. Set people alight, skinned them alive…

Maybe.

If so, Samuel was honoured to be in their company.

He led them toward where he thought Rico might be, and basked in their savagery.

39

Slater kept his arm so tight around Rico’s throat that the kid wouldn’t even try to escape.

If he squirmed, Slater would tighten the pressure. And then the squeeze would become unbearable, and Rico would either pass out from the restricted blood flow to his brain, or the sheer stress alone would get to him and he’d faint.

Slater dragged the kid further away from Fifth Avenue, prioritising secrecy. He noticed King following in stride, but didn’t pay too much attention. They operated as one, and King would make sure to cover him in his moment of vulnerability. Slater made it to a narrow alcove between two buildings in the laneway and dragged Rico into it, plunging out of sight of anyone passing by.

King followed.

The alcove was small, barely wide enough to fit the three of them, surrounded on three sides by sheer brick wall. Slater noticed damp gravel underfoot and made a point not to shift his weight around too much.

He muttered, ‘Rico, I’m going to release a bit of pressure on your throat. If you even think about screaming for help, I’ll break your nose. It won’t feel good. That’s going to be your only warning.’

The kid spluttered a frantic affirmation.

Message received.

Slater kept the chokehold in place, but eased off the boa-constrictor pressure. Rico tried his best to quietly gasp for air, but his throat rattled all the same. More for dramatic effect than anything else, King took out his Glock and pressed the barrel to the kid’s head.

It might have the side effect of making the kid wet his pants, but it’d sure as hell get him talking.

Slater said, ‘Why are you following us?’

‘I’m drunk, man. I’m sorry.’

‘Not good enough, Rico.’

‘I swear. I was just going to shout at you. You know — hurl some obscenities your way. It was a stupid idea.’

‘You armed?’

‘No, man. Of course not.’

‘Check him,’ Slater said to King.

King patted the kid’s expensive suit down and came away with nothing. He nodded a confirmation.

Slater said, ‘Who was your friend?’

‘Just a guy from the club.’

‘If it was a guy from the club he wouldn’t have stayed silent. He would have shit his pants. That guy knew to run.’

‘I…’

Rico trailed off.

Slater said, ‘You were coming after us, weren’t you?’

‘No, man, I swear—’

Slater didn’t tighten his grip. He just leant in closer to Rico and said in his ear, ‘I’m going to start hurting you if you don’t tell me the truth. Is that what you want?’

Nothing over-the-top. Nothing extreme. A simple statement, with simple truth behind it. Often, it was all that was needed. Slater knew how to ramp up the intensity over time. A slow build instead of trying to induce all-out terror right from the start. But in this case, the steady increase in threats wasn’t needed.

Rico broke instantly.

‘Yeah, okay, okay,’ he panted, on the verge of total panic. ‘We were coming after you. It was stupid. I’m so sorry. Don’t fucking hurt me, man. Please don’t.’

‘Who’s the other guy?’

‘Just some guy. Crazy. Like, he’s not all there in the head. Thinks he’s responsible for the blackout.’

Slater looked up at King.

Inconclusive, he thought.

But he’d been trained not to treat anything as coincidence.

‘Who is he?’ Slater demanded.

‘His name’s Samuel.’

‘You got anything else on him?’

‘No, man.’ Then Rico’s eyes lit up. Slater knew what the kid’s demeanour meant. The spoiled cartel brat would have said anything to try and keep himself alive, but now he’d remembered something that might be genuinely useful. He was young, and terrible at keeping a poker face. So when he said, ‘Actually, this might all be connected,’ Slater believed him.

‘How?’

‘Are you Slater?’ Rico said. ‘Or King?’

Slater froze. ‘What?’

King stared. ‘Is that something to worry about?’

Slater looked up. ‘He never heard my name from me. Or yours.’

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Samuel knows you,’ Rico said. ‘You screwed up his family or something. He’s angry at you.’

Slater said, ‘You’d better start going into detail or I’m going to—’

Then King cocked his head to one side. Slater almost didn’t notice, but he caught it out of the corner of his eye. Like a sixth sense, he honed in on his counterpart with laser focus. ‘What?’

King crept toward the edge of the alcove and leant around the corner.

Stared hard for a long beat.

Then he wrenched the olive Glock from his waistband and raised it to shoulder height and fired three shots down the alleyway outside. The gunshots blared, the muzzle flashes bright as day, the noise unrivalled. Rico flinched so hard in Slater’s grip that it made Slater himself jolt in surprise.

A cacophony of return

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