Sharks by Matt Rogers (best book series to read TXT) 📕

Not like Jason and Will, obviously. I was always a handler. Never a field operative. But I was in that world, and when you’re in that world you’d better be ready for what comes your way. I was never going to be insulated from the consequences forever. I wasn’t that cocky. So I took the training my employers offered me, whenever I had the time. Boxing, Muay Thai, jiu-jitsu. I put in the hours at the firing range. I ran the miles. I lifted the weights.’

Alexis said, ‘I know.’

Violetta — alongside King and Slater — had pulled her out of the warehouse Keith Ray had held her in. Alexis had watched Violetta beat down one of Ray’s thugs — crumple him, take his back, lock in the choke, and squeeze until he was dead. She’d done it smoothly, with no wasted movement, as Alexis stood mere feet away. Sure, she’d taken the guy by surprise, which is just enough to overwhelm the considerable strength advantage between most men and women, but the results were the same.

Violetta chewed on a mouthful of greens.

Then she said, ‘You’re already hitting harder than I am.’

Alexis didn’t answer.

‘Those shots on the bag,’ Violetta said. ‘I heard them echo.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Violetta said with a half-laugh. ‘I’m not jealous. That’s not what I’m getting at. I’m just thinking … you ever think it was fate that you opened your door for Will in New York?’

Alexis didn’t answer immediately, which she realised was something else that had changed. In civilian life she’d been eager to please, always jumping in with an answer to any question before she’d even thought it through. Most people do that. There’s something inherently uncomfortable about silence … unless silence is the last thing on your mind. If you’ve seen it all — blood, death, suffering — social conventions don’t mean as much. You can take your time to answer. You can speak truthfully, even if it’s the hard choice.

But she didn’t have an answer, no matter how hard she thought.

She said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you believe in any of that?’

‘I don’t know.’

Violetta said, ‘Sometimes I think you were meant to come on board.’

‘Sometimes I think that too,’ Alexis said. ‘But … you know…’

Violetta nodded.

She knew.

She’d seen the consequences of Alexis’ first kill. How it had eaten away at her insides.

Depression. Anxiety. Flashbacks. Nightmares.

All rolled into one toxic package.

‘There’s light at the end of the tunnel,’ Violetta said. ‘Trust me.’

‘I know,’ Alexis said, her head bowed. ‘Doesn’t make it any easier.’

‘You want some food?’

‘I’ve eaten enough today. I think I’ll have an early night.’

She started for the stairs.

Violetta said, ‘Alexis.’

She turned around.

Violetta said, ‘I’m here for you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You ever want to talk about it…’

‘I’ve talked enough. I think now I just need to deal with it on my own.’

Violetta nodded.

Again, she knew.

Alexis went upstairs.

3

The lieutenant made a beeline for the warehouse.

He didn’t flash credentials. He barely gave the cops on the perimeter a second glance, and they mirrored the lack of interest. He was known and connected. He ducked under the tape, strode across no-man’s-land — the same stretch where King had put a bullet in Keith Ray’s head — and vanished through a small entranceway next to the roller doors of the loading bay. Before he disappeared, they watched him reflexively glance over one shoulder. Most likely an unconscious gesture, seen by no one but cops already in the know.

Well, that’s what he thought.

Slater said, ‘Is it just me or was that odd?’

‘That was odd,’ King agreed. ‘Let’s see what he comes out with.’

‘And then what?’

The inevitable follow-up.

The elephant in the room they hadn’t discussed.

Slater’s query included the unspoken question — How far are we going to take this?

The rabbit hole went deep. They’d killed a judge, a sheriff, a pimp, and an army of their collective mercenaries, but the labyrinth didn’t stop there. There’d be hangers-on who’d got away, acquaintances and co-conspirators and maybe a hundred other people who were guilty by association, the ones who’d turned a blind eye to what they knew was happening right under their noses.

How many do we hunt down?

How many can we?

King said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Let’s say he comes out with evidence he wants to suppress,’ Slater said. ‘Then—’

King said, ‘No point speculating. Let’s just wait and see.’

‘Humour me. Let’s say he does. What if we unravel something bigger? What if the scope is beyond our abilities?’

‘When has the scope ever been beyond our abilities?’

‘We used to have a government behind us.’

‘And that government cherry-picked our assignments,’ King said. ‘Showed us what we wanted to see, told us what we wanted to hear. Fed us what we wanted to eat. Now we can pick and choose. We didn’t have that power before.’

‘How long do we stay on this lead?’

‘However long it takes.’

‘There’s injustice everywhere. I’m just saying … it’s best we don’t get tunnel vision.’

‘We can only focus on one thing at a time,’ King said. ‘We follow this. Wherever it leads. You in?’

‘I’m here,’ Slater said. ‘Of course I’m in.’

Then the lieutenant reappeared, which meant he damn well wasn’t there to integrate himself with the investigation. As if his short stint in the warehouse wasn’t suspicious enough, there were three duffel bags in his hands. Two in the right, one in the left — the right clearly his favoured hand. King noted it, just as he noted all seemingly inconspicuous details. You never knew when it might prove useful.

The guy walked the bags back across no-man’s-land, and when he nodded to the cops guarding the perimeter he averted his eyes faster than usual. Implying guilt, as much as he might not want to show it. There was a sizeable gulf between expert poker players and your ordinary bent cop.

He piled the bags into the back of the squad car and gave his surroundings a once-over. His gaze swept right across the darkened husk of the Toyota, but it was just another shell in the towers of wreckages. Maybe odd