Page 4 of Game of Love
The advantage of this way was the poorly made passage down the fire escape. It was one of those old styles that were only designed for one person going down at a time.
I just needed to get past the first steps and jump down to my bike.
That was what I did.
I was on that bike and out of the vicinity of those motherfuckers before they could process what to do next.
Some tried to follow but I lost them at the junction when I gunned my engine and leapt over a truck carrying a stack of hay.
Flying down the road adjacent to me, I managed to lose everybody. It would take a while for the goons to first figure out what direction I’d gone and next catch me.
I’d credit the man who could catch up with a midnight Kawasaki Ninja ZX-6R, much less one with me riding the hell out of it.
Not one of Pablo’s guys would have been able to dream of doing so.
That was what happened when you hired meatheads and idiots to do a high stakes job.
Not my problem though.
I could just imagine how Pablo would lose his shit when he found out the precious chip was gone. Serve him right, maybe this lesson would force his hand out of dirty dealings and he’d be a better mayor.
“Did you get it?” Wes asked in my ear piece. He would have seen me leaving the warehouse on the surveillance he’d had set up.
“Got it,” I told him.
“Yayy, we can have steak for dinner on Sunday.” He chuckled.
“You and your fucking steak.”
“Same as you and your disgusting hash brown sandwiches.”
“See you later, man.” I shook my head at him as I sped along the winding roads.
He could make fun of me all he wanted over my hash brown sandwiches. At one point in my life they’d been a treat. Making good use of leftover hash browns I’d been able to salvage from the bins at the boys home I’d lived at for the first part of my life was what I used to consider good days.
I’d make a sandwich to add more substance to the two slices of bread and butter I’d had most nights. It tasted good and kept me going.
I think sometimes I still did it to remember those days and the journey I’d taken since then.
But sure, Wes could have steak.
It took me half an hour to get back to the office. Or, rather what we called the office.
It was a place we had set up at the back of a garage to meet clients.
All I had to do was deliver the chip and pick up the cash.
I parked up, took off my helmet and the balaclava, and jumped off my bike.
There was a crowd that had gathered outside the work area. They were talking about racing after carnival. The area was notorious for illegal street racing and had attracted everyone who was into it for the way it was set up.
The cops were paid well to turn a blind eye.
I went inside and proceeded up the stairs to the room I met my clients in. It was nothing fancy. Just a meeting point with a desk and two chairs. A space to talk out business and make a deal.
I expected Bernard to be here already with his assistant.
I opened the door to the room and frowned when I saw the place was empty.
