Page 32 of The Best Trick

“Do I look like a dipshit to you? Back together,” Denko said. “I want you all where I can see you. I can shoot her without killing her.”

When the guys didn’t comply, he pressed the gun under my chin. My pulse raced. The ground seemed to tilt.

My guys pulled back together.

Denko reached the testosterone-heavy little gathering and produced a bag from his satchel, tossing it on the ground. “Weapons in the bag. Now.”

Zeus pulled Harley’s handgun from the back of his belt and tossed it in.

Odin and Thor pulled guns from ankle holsters.

A puff of wind blew across the field, kicking up a ghostly tower of dust.

“Keep going,” Denko commanded.

Harley’s eyes widened as Thor pulled another gun from a side holster and a knife from his jacket pocket. Zeus pulled a knife from a hidden thigh pocket and a garrote from yet another pocket.

Denko pointed at Harley. “Phone on the ground and sit over there where I can see you. Go.”

Harley threw down his phone and backed up, hands raised, practically running backwards toward the far fence Denko had indicated. Maybe next time when somebody warned him not to take a certain passenger in his balloon, he would heed that warning.

My guys said nothing as Harley settled himself down out of earshot.

Denko still had the gun stuck into the fleshy part of my chin, and I kept imagining him pulling the trigger. Which is exactly the opposite of what positive visualization gurus tell you to do—you’re not supposed to visualize the thing you don’t want!

I tried to imagine Denko realizing how wrong it was to work for such an evil organization as ZOX. I tried to picture the expression of horror that would come over his face as he really thought about how many lives he’d ruined, and how heartless he had been. I tried to picture him throwing down his gun and dedicating his life to helping my guys clear their names and then taking up flower arranging. And my guys and I would be free to do silly things like go up in balloons.

But my mind wasn’t buying it. My mind was all,um,gun to chin aiming at the back of your brain! Finger about to pull trigger! Alarm! Alarm!

“I want to talk,” Denko was saying now. “I want to make a deal.”

“We don’t make deals with people who threaten Ice,” Zeus said, though he had exactly zero leverage, and everybody there knew it.

“Then you'll listen,” Denko said, gun pressing harder. “I need you to do something for me. I’ll make it worth your while.”

My guys said nothing. They were in listening mode. Info-absorbing mode. Rabid-tiger-craving-an-opportunity-to-rip-somebody's-face-off mode.

“I need you to find something for me,” Denko said.

“Oh yeah?” Odin asked casually. “What would that be?”

His seeming nonchalance was a tiny nick in my heart, until I realized that he was playing a part—the unstable guy who didn’t care about anything and could go crazy at any moment. This was one of my favorite sexy personas of his; I could see now that it was equally effective in a standoff.

He brushed a bit of imaginary lint off his shoulder. “What do you want us to find for you?”

“A German shepherd,” Denko said.

There was this long silence where I suppose we were all trying to make sense of this request. It seemed like he was going through a lot of trouble if that’s what he wanted.

“Um…j-just any German shepherd?” I asked. “Because you didn’t have to go through all of this trouble if you just wanted to find a German shepherd. I mean, they’re not that rare—”

“No, notjust any German shepherd,” he bit out. “MyGerman shepherd. My dog. Doris.”

“You want us to find your lost dog?” Zeus asked. I could see the worry in his eyes. Maybe he was right to worry. There were a lot better resources to turn to for a lost dog than, oh, your mortal enemies who wanted to kill you and who you definitely wanted to kill in return.

Had Denko lost his mind?

Not the best development ever. Because if there was one thing that was worse than having a gun pressed up in your chin, it was having a gun pressed to your chin by a madman.

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