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

Glock, this sucks,’ Sal spoke gloomily, as the minutes ticked by.

‘Fuck it, back it up, there ain’t nobody here, right? We’ll tell Yann then go get the food, we can’t get the blame for this bullshit.’

Sal put the car into reverse and started to roll backwards, there was a loud thump on the driver’s side of the roof. Sal slammed on the brakes, and then a man with a bushy beard stared in through the window at them.

‘Fuck it,’ Sal said, buzzing the window down, believing it to be a tramp.

‘Give us some room pal,’ he said, and continued rolling backwards then stopped as another man appeared leaning on the boot, peering in through the rear window.

Rico got out the car and leaned on the roof, wishing again that Sal had brought the Glock. Fist fights weren’t his thing.

‘What do you want guys?’

A third man appeared out of nowhere, this one big, with a shaved head. As he got closer Rico could see a mess of scars on the side of his face that gleamed dully in the streetlights. He stood right in front of the car, Rico couldn’t stop staring at him.

‘I think you been expecting us,’ he announced, with a thick accent.

‘Er, yeah, we have,’ Rico replied, thinking fast.

The man at the back of the car held up a big bag, and Sal hit the switch that opened the boot. Looking over his shoulder Rico watched as the bag was dropped in, the boot slammed shut hard and then the men started to get in the car. The big man looked at Rico.

‘I ride in front.’

‘Fine.’

With a loud sigh Rico watched as the car reversed in and he locked up the gate, then jogged across and opened the second set. He climbed into the rear once it was all secure and they drove back across to the building, nobody speaking. Sal stopped, popped the boot open and he and Rico got out the car. The two men from the rear seat emerged first, and stood still looking around. Both were very similar looking; bearded and thickset. The big man stayed sitting in the car, eventually swinging his legs out, staying like that for a few seconds and then standing.

Sal gestured toward the office building door.

‘This way.’

They followed him into the building and everyone filed up the stairs, emerging into the common area. Voorhees was sitting in the office watching then came out of the office, his eyes never leaving the big man. He stopped and stood very still, then licked his lips.

‘Leo,’ he stated, still staring.

The big man, who had been casting an eye over everything glanced across indifferently.

‘Yann. So, still with us then.’

End of conversation as the big man disappeared to walk up the stairs.

Voorhees angrily shook his head and turned to the other men.

‘I’m Yann, I’m running the show. This is Sal, and that’s Rico. Who are you guys?’

The two men were standing side by side, the left one spoke.

‘I’m Gregor, Greg, and this is Rolf.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Sal spoke up and shook hands, Rico followed, and finally, reluctantly Yann.

‘OK, show them where they sleep, we will do a briefing later. Rico, where the fuck is the food?’ Yann was not a happy man.

‘Sure Yann, I’ll go right now,’ Rico replied, and scurried out, just glad to be out the way, however temporary that was.

***

John was getting frustrated. They had been wandering around Caesars Palace for nearly forty-five minutes asking for George Scott, and getting the run around. It didn’t help that every employee they asked would immediately look like they wanted to run away, and then give some vague idea of where the man might be. The place was vast, with a huge casino that spread out in all directions, and they had been sent literally from one corner to the next.

But they got lucky, in the end.

A man and a woman, both wearing the hotel security uniform came out of a side door into the casino right in front of them, so John stopped and asked the same question.

‘Excuse me, do you have any idea where to find George Scott?’

The man immediately closed up, but the woman eyed Reed with interest.

‘Now you are a big boy,’ she told him, pouting.

‘Thank you ma’am, but could you please answer the question? We’ve been looking for him all over,’ Reed asked politely.

The woman looked at him, then smiled, all teeth and makeup.

‘Sure. The asshole is through here.’

‘Monica,’ the man with her warned, but she ignored him.

‘Fuck him, he is an asshole. You hear how he just spoke to me?’

She turned and swiped a card through a lock next to the door she had just emerged from and pushed it open.

‘Down here, first right and then go to your left. The jerk is in there.’

They looked inside, it was a long corridor.

‘Thank you,’ Reed said.

‘No problem honey, and you come find me afterward. I really hope you came here to break lumps off him, and I would love to buy you a beer.’

‘Thanks,’ John told her, and then they walked through. The door closed behind them, shutting out the racket from the casino.

The corridor was empty, and obviously led right into the bowels of the hotel. They took the first corridor on their right, and shortly after there was a long caged off section on the left, with an open door to an office just inside. There were stacks of boxes piled high with a man in overalls next to an open gate moving some off a trolley.

‘Hey, is George Scott around?’ asked Reed confidently.

The man spun round and stared at them.

‘Who wants to know?’ he asked loudly, going to close the gate.

But Reed got there first, shoving so hard the gate flew open and the man fell backwards against the boxes.

They ignored him and walked into the office, which was small, just a desk, with two men there, one counting through a small pile of crumpled dollar bills.

‘You George?’ John asked, standing in front of the