Contracts by Matt Rogers (i like reading txt) 📕

pounds, and with most of it rippling sinewy muscle spread across a bullish broad-shouldered frame, he was practically squashed into the seat. He wore flexible denim jeans and a black leather jacket over a T-shirt. They fit him well, but he’d only selected them for the flight. The rest of his luggage was home to an arsenal of outdoor and cold-weather gear. The job demanded it.

Slater’s frame wasn’t far behind his colleague’s. A couple of inches shorter, and maybe a dozen pounds lighter, but what he lacked in power he’d always made up for with sheer raw athleticism. He had a little more space to breathe in the economy seat, so he’d leant into the aisle and let King’s massive fist take the left-hand armrest for the majority of the flight. Not that he had a choice in the matter.

But he didn’t mind.

He had all he needed in his right hand.

He cradled the plastic cup and drained the last of the vodka as the plane taxied to the terminal. It hadn’t taken much effort to convince the stewardess to fill it to the brim at the beginning of the flight and charge him five times over for the hassle. Mostly because he was willing to pay, but partly because of his charm. He wasn’t entirely oblivious to that particular talent. He used it when necessary.

And sometimes when not.

King glanced over. ‘Is that smart?’

Slater said nothing. Scrunched the cup up, put it in the seat pocket, closed his eyes. Felt the warm glow bathe his insides. When he opened them again, he was happy.

Didn’t take much to make Will Slater happy.

He said, ‘Didn’t realise we were on the clock already.’

‘You never know…’

Slater looked bemused. ‘What — first time we’re back at work for Uncle Sam and you think it’s all going to kick off the moment we step off the plane?’

‘I’m surprised that someone with your history instantly assumes it wouldn’t.’

‘We’re finding a missing kid on a hiking trail. Something tells me we’re not exactly going to stumble across an international conspiracy here. I’d say we’ll be okay.’

King scratched at the five o’clock shadow coating his jawline. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not exactly thrilled about this one?’

Slater threw his hands up in the air in mock disbelief. ‘I don’t know, buddy. Rub a couple of brain cells together and you might figure it out before we’re done here.’

King half-smiled. ‘I forgot to ask — you ever been to Nepal?’

‘First time.’

‘Same.’

Slater looked over. ‘Isn’t that strange, given our … extensive travels?’

King nodded. ‘Feels like I’ve been everywhere but here.’

‘Looking forward to it?’

‘About as much as you are.’

‘You don’t seem as irritated as I am about this little endeavour.’

The seatbelt signs blinked off, and everyone in the cabin leapt to their feet in unison.

King and Slater stayed put. They savoured the sudden cacophony of noise. It allowed them some discretion to talk about sensitive matters.

King slapped Slater on the shoulder and said, ‘Because I don’t whine and bitch about everything I don’t totally agree with.’

Slater said, ‘I’m here, aren’t I? You think this is whining?’

‘Yes. I do.’

‘What do you think I should do, then? Shut up and get on with it?’

‘Took the words right out of my mouth.’

‘You really think this is the best use of our talents?’

‘I think whatever Violetta approaches us with is the best use of our talents. I assume it’s been determined by people far smarter than us. That’s the way it’s worked our whole careers.’

‘So we get left on the sidelines for months in anticipation of a job, and then our first op involves cleaning up the mess a pen-pusher left behind when he got too careless and got rid of his security detail so he could have some precious one-on-one time with his baby girl?’

The cabin was emptying out, and King didn’t immediately respond. He got to his feet, encouraging Slater up too, and they collected their carry-on packs from the overhead compartment. Then they sauntered toward the exit doors, with Slater leading the way.

King leant forward, over one shoulder, and muttered, ‘Say something like that again and I’ll hit you in the mouth.’

Slater barely reacted, but King could sense the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

Before they reached the exit, Slater glanced over the same shoulder and said, ‘I think you’re forgetting the last two times we fought, brother.’

‘With that much alcohol in you, you think it’ll go the same way?’

Slater slowed his pace even more. ‘Want to find out?’

‘Keep walking,’ King said. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘You’re the one that opened your mouth first.’

King wasn’t having it. He reached out and planted a hand in the small of Slater’s back and timed the momentum exactly right and gave the man a gentle shove. Slater almost tripped over his own feet and was slow to right himself, clutching the back of one of the economy seats to prevent himself going head over heels.

When he stood up, he kept facing forward, and half-sighed.

‘You see?’ King said. ‘You’ve had more to drink than you think. Let’s have this chat another time.’

‘Just shut up until we get to the hotel.’

They made it to the stewardess, and both of them smiled and nodded and said, ‘Namaste,’ as they passed by. Then they descended the exterior stairs, both brooding.

Slater muttered over his shoulder, ‘Still got something you want to say?’

King dropped a hand on the same shoulder. ‘You drink too much. It makes you too volatile, and you say things I know you don’t mean. I understand there’s some serious shit swimming around up there in that head of yours, but you need to cool off and deal with things rationally. How’s that for a character analysis?’

Before Slater could respond, King thundered past, practically knocking him aside to join the stream of passengers making for the terminal.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t have time to deal with Slater’s bullshit.

7

They passed through immigration without incident.

They weren’t armed — granted, with the weight of the U.S. government behind them