The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

Dak merely nodded at the information. "I'm sure you do. None of them, Deno included, are going to be able to save you when this guy comes for you. He's former Special Forces. He's killed more men than you can imagine, in ways you can't and don't want to fathom." He turned to Deno. "No offense. You seem more than capable."

Deno responded with an offer for Dak to go do something lewd.

"Thank you for that," Dak said. He returned his gaze to the boss behind the desk. "You just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago. I imagine he placed a large wager with you, one that you normally wouldn't take. But you couldn't help yourself, could you, Bert?"

For the first time since meeting him, Bert's face cracked slightly. The tough, fearless exterior melted, and curiosity and fear dripped into his eyes.

"How do you know that? How the—"

"I know because I know your client, Bert. I served with him in Iraq."

The concern deepened on Bert's face and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You served with Baker? In Special Forces?"

"Delta Force, actually," Dak corrected. "Yes. And his name isn't Baker Tomason. It's Carson Williams. You just told him he needed to come in tomorrow to settle that big debt he just piled up on you."

Deno shifted backward and stood up out of his chair. He drew a pistol from his hip and pointed it at Dak, aiming for the visitor's temple.

"He's a cop," Deno accused.

"If I'm a cop," Dak said, keeping his eyes locked on Bert, "then I wouldn't be telling you this. I would be here for you, not Carson. Let me assure you, Bert, I am here for one person. And it's not either of you."

Bert rubbed his beard, contemplating whether to have the intruder executed or to let him live.

"Why should I believe you?" he asked. "How do you have that kind of information if you're not a cop?"

"We can sit here all day as I try to explain to you that I'm not a cop. Just know this, Carson will come to see you tomorrow. I doubt he's going to come to pay his debt. How much does he owe you right now?"

"A few million," Bert said after a slight hesitation. Something about this visitor's line of questioning piqued the Puerto Rican's interest.

"Sounds about right," Dak said. "He's addicted to the rush. I've seen it before when we were on missions. His adrenaline would get going and he couldn't stop himself sometimes. He needs the excitement, the risk. He feeds off it."

"What's your point?"

Dak tilted his head to the side and shrugged. "He's probably going to try to rob you."

Bert replied with an uneasy laugh. "Rob me? How would he do that?"

"A couple of million bucks is a lot of money, Bert. If I was a betting man, I'd wager Carson is going to call you back in a few minutes and ask if he can bring the money directly to your home instead of this place. He'll say something along the lines of feeling unsafe about bringing such a large sum downtown or to a bar. Your house, he'll say, will be a safer place to do the exchange."

"He doesn't know where I live."

"That you're aware," Dak corrected. "Carson probably knows the name of your cat."

Bert scowled at the insinuation.

"I know you have a cat, Bert. I can see the traces of fur on your shirt."

The man looked down abruptly and brushed the fabric with his hands. Then he looked over at Deno and motioned for him to lower the weapon.

Dak continued. "Carson probably still has plenty of money, Bert. But he hates losing. Especially large sums. He's probably starting to get a little nervous. Most gamblers would just keep betting until their well ran dry. Not Carson. Now that he senses things are spiraling out of control, he's going to make a play. Tell me, do you keep a safe at your home, perhaps where you stash a bunch of cash, maybe some precious metals?"

Bert shifted in his chair, a dead giveaway of the truth. "Okay, you know what?" He drew his pistol and pointed it at Dak's head. The gun was impractical, a .44 Magnum that could have blown a hole through the wall behind Dak after the bullet obliterated his skull. Not a great weapon for concealment or for moving around.

Dak never flinched.

"That's the fifth-largest weapon I've had pointed at me this year," he said coolly. "Just wait, Bert. Carson will call you soon and when he does, he will ask if he can bring the money to your place. If he doesn't say that, then you can shoot me right here. I won't put up a fight. But if he does make that request, you will need my help."

"Oh, yeah? And what's in it for you? You some kind of guardian angel wandering the streets of Miami?"

Dak shook his head. "No. I'm here to right a wrong Carson did to me. What's in it for you is if you let me have him, I'll let you have whatever he has left in his coffers. My guess is, it's probably at least a million."

Bert's face tightened with doubt, jaw clenching and releasing as he pondered the offer and its legitimacy. "And how would you know about his… coffers?"

"Let's just say I know where Carson got his fortune. Anything beyond that is classified." He paused for a second and then cracked a mischievous grin.

Bert snorted. Then nodded. "Classified," he said, looking at Deno. Bert wiped his nose with his free hand. "You know, I've never seen a guy with two guns pointed at him act so calm. Usually, people are begging for their lives right about now."

"Do you normally put two guns on someone when they come to do business with you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I don't owe you money, Bert. I'm here to give you money. And the only catch is, you play along and let