Page 57 of Blackbeard
“Well, yes, I did,” he said. “I could use you boys for backup on this run. The Makarovs are slippery snakes. Everyone knows that. And I’m a little wary about going into business with them.”
“Then call it off,” Vlad grumbled. “Don’t do it.”
“There’s a payout,” Popeye said. “Fifty grand to every man who agrees to help.”
The room went dead silent. I could have heard a pin drop.
Fifty thousand dollars. For each of us. We wouldn’t even have to split it. Only an idiot passed up an opportunity like that.
“Nobody throws around that much cash unless the stakes are high and the demons of hell are yapping at their heels,” Big G pointed out. “The higher the payoff, the more likely you could get caught. Or killed.”
“It’s not without risk, I admit that,” Popeye said. “FBI and CIA have been sniffing around the Makarovs for a while. You boys are used to small town gigs. But this is big league stuff.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender and pushed his chair back, standing up.
“Now, if you can’t handle that kind of pressure, I understand. You’re tough guys, but maybe this is outside of your wheelhouse.”
I clenched my hands into fists, resisting the urge to punch Popeye’s teeth to the back of his throat for baiting us so blatantly.
Kingpin scrubbed the back of his neck. He had a pregnant wife to think about, and bringing a notorious Russian mafia family through his little mountain town sounded like more trouble than it was worth, even with the fat bundle of cash that accompanied it.
“What timeframe are you working with?” he asked.
“The Makarovs want a response within forty-eight hours,” Popeye said. “They need to know how many men they’re working with—a headcount, so to speak, for payment purposes.”
I sucked in a hissing breath through my teeth. Shit, this was tight. Too tight. Too soon. We had to think it over, weigh the pros and cons.
“The delivery takes place in two weeks,” Popeye added, for an extra kick to the gut. “Whether you’re there or not.”
“You’ve got to bekidding,” Big G said.
“Fine,” Kingpin said.
I glanced at him in surprise.
“Every brother in my club has to make that decision for himself,” Kingpin added. “I’ll give you a list of volunteers in twenty-four hours.”
Popeye nodded.
“See? I knew that marriage contract was a good idea. We’re getting along already.”
No one said anything as Popeye walked out. Even when he was gone, a heavy silence settled over the house. Kingpin pulled Hattie close, kissing her temple. She released a sigh of relief.
“I’m okay, Neil, I promise,” she said softly.
“You should get some rest,” he replied, clasping her hand. “This much stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”
“Worry wart.” Hattie cast a small smile up at him, patting his chest. “I’ll go lay down for a nap. It sounds like you boys have a lot to talk about.”
I waited until she was out of earshot when I rounded on Kingpin.
“That was a quick decision on your part to get involved here,” I said.
“The other option was to let the Forsaken run wild in our town without supervision,” Kingpin replied evenly, meeting my gaze.
I had to admit, that would have been worse.
“This way,” he continued. “We will be breathing down their necks. And if they screw us over, we’ll throw them to those Russian snakes.”
