Dying For LA by Ian Jones (top fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

get his wife on the phone, they were eating out tonight.

***

Colonel General Rostov dropped the mobile phone down on the desk and stood up, turning to look out of the window. Snow was falling heavily again, across the street he could see a beggar on the corner, his head and shoulders heaped with it.

Rostov shook his head and then turned around, picked up the mobile and stood tapping it on his chin and thinking.

He was running out of time and options, he knew that.

He should never have trusted the Americans. They fucked everything up. Too busy trying to avoid doing any actual work. He had done all he could, had everything in place, but it had gone wrong.

They were stupid.

He didn’t have any idea what he should do next, and this was alien to him. All his life he had succeeded, had never been beaten.

He looked out the window again, brain whirring.

Maybe, there was still time. Time to do what he should have done in the first place.

He looked at the mobile, and then dialled a number from memory, he couldn’t very well save it in the phone.

There was time, he told himself. It wasn’t too late. Yet.

***

Sitting opposite each other in McDonald’s, Rico was elaborately telling Sal a story about a Mexican girl he had met in Washington, and was just getting to the good part when he saw the other man jump and his eyes widen. He desperately nodded out the window at Rico, who turned to see what it was that was so disturbing.

Yann Voorhees was walking down the pavement looking in at them, his bulk moving like a huge tanker among the sea of people who were hurrying on their way to wherever they needed to be that morning. He stopped and pushed the door open and squeezed his way over to their table.

‘You still hungry?’ he asked, looking at the wrappers strewn across it.

Both men shook their heads.

‘Coffee then?’

Both men nodded.

Voorhees turned and walked across to the counter, oblivious to the stares he was getting. Rico shrugged inwardly. Fat man in McDonald’s. Go figure.

The two men just sat there in stunned silence, until Voorhees came back with a tray loaded with food and coffee cups.

Rico looked at the plastic seats, no way would Voorhees fit, but the big man perched on the end of a bench next to them, making the family already sitting there move over. He delicately unwrapped a sausage muffin and took a bite.

‘I’m starving,’ he said. ‘Busy out there right?’ He nodded his head back toward the streets outside the window and took a drink of coffee.

Rico and Sal added milk and sugar to theirs and took a mouthful. This was surreal, not only had they never seen Voorhees set even a toe outside of the apartment now he was sitting here as large as life, actually a whole lot larger, casual and comfortable, making small talk.

He finished the muffin and took another.

‘Eat. Please,’ he told them.

Sal cautiously took a muffin off the tray so Rico did too, and all three men unwrapped them and ate.

‘Thanks Yann,’ Rico said when he finished.

Voorhees raised a hand.

‘Not a problem. I came here to tell you Sal is quite correct.’

Sal spluttered while drinking his coffee and had a coughing fit.

Voorhees watched him solemnly, Rico wondered if he should bang Sal on the back, but he calmed down and apologised. Voorhees shook his big head patiently.

‘Yes Sal, you are right. Karl Weiss was an asshole. I knew it when I was told he would be joining us. It was obvious just from the description I was given. But, we were shorthanded and when I spoke to him he made all the right noises. He was clever, said what I wanted to hear. He was only seeing dollar signs. And to be frank, I have been distracted by failure. But of course, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Wonderful. And I knew, when I talked to him, I had misgivings. But I got the call, and we had to act. There was no time to change anything. I had no choice.’

Voorhees spoke calmly and quietly.

‘But actually, it gets worse. I made a call to check on the progress of the rest of the recruits who will be joining us, and I was told some very grave news.’

Sal and Rico looked at him expectantly, bad news was not what was needed that was for sure, at least he wouldn’t blast their heads off in here. Probably. Maybe.

‘Karl Weiss had a cellphone.’

‘What?’ asked Rico, genuinely aghast despite himself.

Voorhees nodded.

‘He did. And of course I asked him, told him to give it to me, we would have to switch it off and lock it away, but he said he didn’t have one, he told me there had been some issues and he had to get rid of it. And I accepted the lie, another failing on my behalf.’

‘How the hell did you find out?’ Sal asked.

And Voorhees smiled. Another first.

‘Because the asshole sent a text to the guy that introduced him to us. He must have sent it when he was in the car, not your fault. He told him he was on his way, there was a hit already. Of course, the guy was very shocked, and the news that Weiss is no longer around forced his hand to come clean.’

‘The cops will have the phone,’ Rico said.

‘Correct,’ Voorhees confirmed. ‘I now also know that he was shot by an off-duty cop, so there will be even more heat.’

‘What does this mean Yann?’ asked Sal.

‘Well, we need to take action. The police can track the phone, I understand they can go back several days, maybe more. They will find out he came by train, and he was at the apartment. It will take a while, but it can be done. And I also wonder what else he might have on the phone, you know how it is; messages, contacts, pictures, could be anything.’

‘Shit,’ Rico swore quietly.

‘Look, all we can