Full Circle by Rj Scott (top 50 books to read TXT) 📕

gun in view. The more in plain sight it was the less likely they would think of patting him down for anything else. Inclining his head in mute agreement he lifted his jacket a little more and then with one finger he released the catch on the holster and pulled out the gun. It was his favorite and he hoped to hell they wouldn't hurt it or do something stupid. Placidly he handed the gun to the guy he had labeled goon one, who then placed it on a small table by the elevator.

The guards separated and Emily gestured toward door number three. She didn't move though.

"Are you not coming in?"

"What was it you said? That you wanted to meet man to man?" With this she turned on her heel and pressed the button to call the elevator and as soon as the doors opened she was in and clearly heading back to the parking lot.

"It has been very nice to meet you," Manny said solicitously. A flicker of pain edged across her face and her hand rested in the space on her skin between throat and heart. In a low, soft voice she said something but it was so gentle he couldn't be sure. He wasn't convinced but it sounded suspiciously like 'I wish I could say the same'. The tone though, was sad. What did she mean? The words certainly hadn't been filled with hate. Not at all. The bittersweet expression that darkened her eyes and thinned her mouth was an interesting one. Manny filed it away for further thought. She could very well be the link that was easily broken. The people she must have seen over the last thirty years probably read like the who's who of crime. The doors shut and the elevator began its descent. Manny turned to the door he needed to walk through, catching a glimpse of his gun as he did. Okay, so he wasn't completely unarmed, but hell, he really liked that gun. Time to roll this one forward.

Josh was quiet in his ear. Procedure dictated radio silence on contact but the absolute emptiness of no longer having the man's voice there was unnerving. One of the guards opened the door and Manny stepped inside. My name is Vincenzio Mannet Luis Altosinno. From San Diego. I know weapons.

"Altosinno," a voice proclaimed from his left. He turned on his heel. Alastair Bullen in all his creep-assed glory was standing with a crystal glass of whisky in his hand. Manny stifled an instinctive and nerve-ridden need to laugh. All the guy needed was a moustache to twirl and he was the archetypal bad guy.

"Bullen," he replied. He took the step forward and extended his hand, which Alastair took. "My condolences on losing Gregory."

"Did you know him or is that empty pleasantries?"

They released the hard grip both of them had given.

Alastair turned to fill another glass and handed it to Manny who sipped it carefully.

Josh butted in quickly. "Oh-nine Gregory visited LA," he whispered into Manny's ear. "It made the papers because he was dating a woman twenty years his junior who had just finished an affair with a presidential aide."

Manny made a note to tell Josh he didn't need to whisper when he imparted information. He focused on replying to Alastair.

"Maybe three years ago, two thousand nine, he was in LA. How can I put this delicately? He was with a much younger woman who was being pursued by photographers.

It was difficult but not impossible for us to have a meet."

"I remember her," Alastair said simply.

"Losing a brother is hard," Manny offered.

"Not as hard as losing both parents and a sister."

Alastair paused and there was a question in his gaze.

Evidently he was waiting for Manny to say something, but Manny was not being pulled into this little game of 'I know what you know'.

"Anyway, as I said my condolences. He seemed to have his head screwed on right and he was interested in how the West Coast kept control."

"Plainly not with the Altosinnos at the head,"

Alastair commented dryly.

"Sadly not then. But now, we have a tenfold increase in traffic, both financially and in terms of property reach. The old days are long gone but we can be newer and stronger. Forge relationships with the new-style street gangs who are all show and no substance." Alastair was listening to him. Alastair was taking the bait. "We have a stash of weapons, semis and pistols with all associated ammunition that I confiscated from the street. Gregory called me a few months back requesting a 'weapons-for-money' trade. I have money but I want more to buy into new markets. We have the weapons. You have the money."

"He never mentioned it to me," Alastair said suspiciously.

"He wouldn't have," Manny started. Playing for time he moved to the window to look down at the edge of the city below. He prayed Josh came up with something.

Casually he placed his hand in his pocket, his fingers closing around the small bugging device in the silk inside.

Drawing attention to his other hand by shaking the liquid in the glass he pressed the bug on the underside of the window sill. He hoped it was enough.

Josh's voice was a welcome return. "Reports have Gregory as the lesser brother. Alastair definitely ran the show. Every photo of the two of them has Alastair foreground and Gregory background. The only photo of all three that I have has a similar position but the senator is foreground also."

"He told me that he always felt you were the one guiding the family and he wanted you to be proud of something he had done." Manny was confident as he said this.

"He did?" Suspicion in Alastair's voice had been replaced with something akin to fondness. "He actually said that?"

"He did—"

"Alastair!" The voice was strident and accompanied by the loud banging of the door against the wall. Both he and Alastair turned. Senator Thomas Bullen, a silver fox, handsome, chiseled, and