Chapter 3
Warning: This book contains rough language and violent scenes. The rough language is not gratuitous, nor are the violent scenes. ReKill is the second book in the series that started with ReWire
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The boss stood. It wasn’t easy. It was even tougherpushing back from the table. It wasn’t real Kobe beef, but it was still fantastic. Who would have thought beef from drunken cows could taste so good? Damn it. He felt it again-his right knee. Something was wrong with it. Stupid doctors. Why go see them if all they were going to tell him was, “Lose weight?”
He didn’t need a doctor to tell him to lose weight. He liked to eat. He didn’t like exercise except one kind and mostly that was lying on his back now or sitting in a chair. Sure elevated his heart rate though.
He looked forward to the chat with Bad, even though he was an idiot. Bruce Allan Dummy was more like it. Of course, he would never say that out loud. As much as Bruce feared the hold the boss had on him, the man was capable of immediate and immense violence.
His driver opened the passenger door and held out an arm to support him. He grabbed the man’s arm and the handle and lowered himself onto the rear seat of the Mercedes. Maybe it was time for liposuction? He knew he would dig the pain a little. He picked up the throwaway phone. At precisely seven-seventeen PM, Pacific Standard Time, the phone rang.
“How did it go? Without detail, be specific.”
There was a fifteen second silence on the other end.
“I dropped off the message personally, just like you said. From what I could see he understood how serious the message was this time. His former running buddies are a reminder of how serious the message was. I’m pretty sure his answer will be the one you want.”
“That’s the answer I needed! Now, I want you to head up to Redding, California. Bring David with you. Check into a hotel. When you get there let me know. I will have another message for you to deliver.”
“Did you say Redding?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus fuck boss. Redding is even deader than this hellhole. Do I have to?”
“Yes,” he said and disconnected the phone.
He dropped the throwaway phone into the slot between himself and the driver, knowing knew his driver would destroy it. He asked his business phone to dial Karl Heyworth.
“Dialing Karl Heyworth.”
The phone rang three times before Mary answered, “Zoning Commission, Karl Heyworth’s office, Mary speaking, how may I help you?” Her voice sounded like warm silk.
“Hello, Mary.”
“Hello Mr. Smith. Mr. Heyworth’s in a meeting. Allow me a few moments to see if he can take your call.” Mary’s tone turned professional and a little frosty when she figured out the call was from him. Bitch. She was a hot bitch for sure, a natural red head with Nicole Kidman skin. She thought she was better than. He liked to get her kind alone and completely humiliate them.
“Sure.”
He listened to the zoning commission’s message on hold while he waited. “…our most important customers-you, the business people who take the risks and raise the capital…” What complete and total crap. The bureaucrats hated the people they were supposed to serve. The bureaucrats knew they had better educations, were certain they were smarter, so they were jealous. Their typical customer with work boots and a baseball cap had a better life than they ever would and actually did something useful.
“Mr. Smith, great to hear from you! How are you?” Heyworth was a suck up. If he thought he sounded genuine, he was stupid too.
“Karl, I see the little item I asked your help on hasn’t been fixed. Do you need me to send some of the fellows to help out? I know how short staffed you are.”
The boss wished he were in the room with Karl so he could fully enjoy the man’s fear. He could barely taste the man’s fear over the phone.
Heyworth laughed, at least the boss thought it was probably supposed to be a laugh. “Absolutely not, Mr. Smith. I will have that detail taken care of in a week, two at the most!”
“Good, good, Karl. I’m sure you will. Oh, congratulations on your daughter’s third place finish in the cross-country race at sections. One of my men happened to be at that race, and took a lot of pictures. One of them is a nice close-up of your daughter taken mid-course. Would you like a copy?”
“That.., that would be great!”
Now Heyworth should realize how serious he was. If you didn’t want people to have a hold over you, you shouldn’t take bribes. And, you shouldn’t have kids.