Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (short books for teens .TXT) 📕

was originally a bedroom. There were large windows along both walls, and though they had metal bars over them, the sun still shone cheerily into the room.

Daly, or whoever he was, was sitting in a wooden chair behind a square metal table. There was a large egg-shaped lump on his forehead and the beginnings of a bruise beneath his left eye. He’d most likely gotten hurt when the car spun out. His hands were cuffed in front of him, and he sneered up at us as we entered the room.

“How’s that officer doing?” he taunted as I took a seat in one of the two chairs that the officers had set up in here for Junior and me. “He was looking mighty pale last time I saw him.”

“He’s perfectly fine,” I bluffed. I actually had no idea how Callahan was. We hadn’t heard from either him or Seamus since they’d left, but Daly didn’t know that. My bluff seemed to work as the smirk slipped off his face.

“He’s definitely doing better than the guy who was in the car with you,” Junior added. “What was his name?”

Daly’s expression turned absolutely murderous as he glared at Junior. The passenger that I’d managed to hit when I shot through the windshield had already been dead by the time the paramedics reached us. I really hadn’t been all that broken up about it, but I hadn’t expected Junior of all people to strike below the belt like that.

“You’ll pay for that,” Daly spat as he exposed his rotted yellow teeth at us in a nasty grimace.

“Is that right?” Junior mocked. “And who exactly is going to make us pay?”

“The boss,” Daly growled. “He’ll…”

“He’ll what?” Junior urged him to continue.

“No, no, no,” Daly chuckled. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You almost got me talking, I’ll admit that. But you’ll be getting nothing else out of me.”

Junior sighed in frustration as his tactic fell flat.

“Was your boss there today?” I asked. Even if he didn’t answer directly, I might learn something from his bad language. “Was he riding in that armored jeep?”

Daly just stared at me with a blank expression.

“We’re going to find him, you know,” Junior informed him. “That’s not up for debate, but you can help yourself by speaking to us now. We can tell the judge that you cooperated, or we can tell him that you resisted. It’s up to you.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Daly rolled his eyes. “Do you really expect me to fall for something like that? I always knew we’d be found out eventually, but to think it would be by a pair of air-headed amateurs. Just look at this one, shaking like a wee little lamb.”

He smirked mockingly at Junior, and I turned to see what he was talking about. To my shock, his arm was actually shaking. He crossed both arms over his chest in an attempt to hide the tremor. I’d need to revisit that later, but I needed to get this interrogation back on track for now.

“We didn’t find you,” I retorted.

“What are you on about?” Daly growled.

“Just what I said,” I replied. “We didn’t find your base. We were led straight to it by someone within your organization. What do you think about that?”

I was pleased to see Daly’s face go white as he took in my words.

“That’s impossible,” he muttered. His eyes were blown wide, and his brows knit together in confusion.

“It’s true,” Junior shrugged. “So maybe you should think twice about being so blindly loyal to whoever it is you’re working for. Obviously, your organization is already falling apart from within. Now’s the time to save yourself.”

“Go to hell,” Daly sneered. “I’m not some backstabbing traitor. Say whatever you like. The boss will have you two swimming in the River Liffey before the end of the week.”

“What did you say?” I snapped.

“I said you’re both as good as dead!” Daly barked. His face was red, and he looked ready to pounce on us.

“No,” I shook my head slowly. “You said he’d have us swimming in the River Liffey. Why did you say that?”

“What?” Daly sputtered. “No, I didn’t mean…”

“That’s an awfully specific threat,” Junior remarked as he caught on to what I was thinking. “Of all the rivers in all of Ireland, you chose one that runs right through the center of Dublin. I wonder if that’s where your boss is.”

“I’ll kill you!” Daly suddenly screamed as he jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backward onto the ground in the process. I jumped back and braced myself for a fight as I watched Daly run around the side of the table.

He was a big guy but clearly clumsy and unskilled when it came to hand-to-hand combat. Someone who knew what they were doing wouldn’t just barrel at me like a cannonball. Once he was close enough, he swung his fist at me wildly. I easily dodged it and crouched slightly to get a better angle before tackling him.

He let out a surprised “oof!” as he toppled to the ground in a heap. I lifted my fist to punch him once, square in the face.

He cried out in pain and lifted his hands to gingerly touch his nose.

The next instant, the door to the room burst open, and Murphy and some of the other officers burst inside. Murphy ran to my side and lifted Daly off the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“That’s enough of that, now,” he chided as he hauled Daly back onto his feet before turning to look at me. “It looked like things were getting a little intense in here. Are you just about finished then?”

“Yeah, we are,” I nodded. The sudden rush of adrenaline had left my entire body feeling tingly with nowhere to project all that nervous energy. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Not a problem,” Murphy smiled. “Throw him in the drunk tank, boys.”

“The drunk tank?” Junior inquired curiously.

“Ah, right,” Murphy nodded. “The holding cell. We only have one, and we hardly ever use it for anything aside