Page 80 of Callous Shot

“This is not good. What name? How do you know?”

“The Cartwright Gang. They own a string of vape shops that we know are a front for money laundering and trafficking, and when they started expanding, getting close to our territory, we took notice. Some of them looked familiar, and Neil was worried. He’s had a small team of us discreetly investigating for the past year, gathering all the intel we could, and we’re almost certain that the Cartwright Gang is the Culverhouse Network, operating under a new name.”

“Who’s in charge? I thought they disbanded after Frank Culverhouse died.”

His mouth twisted. “We don’t know yet. Our sources have been mostly low-level grunts who haven’t been able to tell us anything about the higher powers. Whoever is currently in charge is most likely a relative unknown to us or another associate from the original network.”

“Okay.” I exhaled, my mind racing. “So what are we dealing with now? Who hurt Neil? Was it Operation Foxglove or the Culverhouse Network? Or someone else?”

“That was one hundred percent the Culverhouse Network. We raided one of their vape shops after it turned out that warehouse belonged to them.”

“The warehouse I went to with Neil?”

Sid shot me a grin. “Yep. Wanna get payback?”

“Is that even a question?” I strode over to the large safe, unlocking it to reveal our stash of hidden goodies. Hmmm… What should I take? My knuckleduster, of course. My knife, to be on the safe side. A Taser?

“Sid? You bringing a Taser?”

He snorted. Yeah, that was a stupid question. “I have everything we need,” he assured me. “Bring anything extra you want. We’ll take the Rover.” Aka our bulletproof, probably bombproof, SUV, complete with lots of useful extras.

I grabbed an extra needle knife and a cool alarm that temporarily deafened people if you held it close to their ears, and before the safe swung closed, I quickly grabbed a small tube of liquid containing highly regulated ingredients, courtesy of Dr. Bryan Attwood. Just in case. Okay, I was as prepared as I could be.

I just needed to send a quick text before I left.

@danhfirestarter:

might be getting into a dangerous situation tonight. just know if i die you were the best thing i ever put my dick in and I regret not knowing what it was like to feel you fuck me with your massive knob

Then I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb and followed Sid into the foyer, where a number of my uncle’s men were gathering.

It was time for payback.

A low string of curses sounded through my earpiece, followed by Paula swearing and a loud thump. I tapped once to speak into it. “Want any help?”

“Never. I can handle it.” She disconnected us, and I grinned behind my balaclava, following Sid and two of the men inside the deserted office building. It had seen better days—now it was all peeling woodchip wallpaper, covered in thick layers of yellowing paint, carpet tiles worn thin by years of use, and a musty, stale smell that suggested that this place had once been home to a number of heavy smokers. Probably still was.

We passed several doors, lit by Sid’s torch beam, and I assumed he knew where he was going. He never dived in without a well-thought-out plan—even if this plan had been hastily cobbled together. Neil’s usual strategy was to hold back, to learn everything he could before planning for every eventuality in detail, but the Cartwright Gang wouldn’t be expecting us, not so soon after the attack that had temporarily incapacitated my uncle and killed two of our men. That was why we had to strike now.

Sid held up his palm, and we came to a halt. He did a complicated hand gesture, which I hoped I’d correctly translated as “Wait here while I scope out this room,” and a moment later, he was gone.

“Six men. Now,” came the whispered instruction through my headset, and the three of us remaining sprang forwards, bursting through the door into utter chaos.

My arms were yanked behind my back, and a beefy arm wrapped around my chest, pinning me in place. I thrashed against their hold, trying to wrestle my hands free. In front of me, Sid lunged at a man coming at him with a huge, wicked-looking knife, ducking and slashing his own knife straight into the man’s thigh.

Then a piercing pain tore through my side, searing me from the inside out.

Oh, shit.

35

LINCOLN

Tugging my hood lower, I peered around the corner of the corridor inside the empty office building. My heart hammered in my chest. Fucking Daniel Hoyton. He’d been a thorn in my side for years, my enemy practically from birth, and yet… I wanted him so fucking badly, and I was tired of trying to fight it. Did I think it would end up blowing up in our faces? Probably, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

Right now, though, wanting him came secondary to worrying about him. I was simultaneously extremely pissed off and extremely concerned. Daniel had a habit of exaggerating, but he also tended to downplay serious situations, so while I couldn’t be sure, there was only one course of action that came to mind when I’d seen his message. As I’d done once before, I followed him, keeping back far enough that he wouldn’t detect me.

All my senses were on high alert as I crept through the building. I had no plan, and no weapons other than a small pocketknife. It was irresponsible and stupid, but there was no part of me that even thought about turning back.