Outlaws Read online

  Coombs nodded. Didn’t respond. They didn’t have to compare past traumatic experiences. It was extraneous.

  After a long pause, Coombs finally said, ‘I’d say we should go over what we’ve been doing, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. I imagine you’re the same.’

  Slater gave a nod for both of them.

  Coombs said, ‘Am I intruding?’

  King managed a wry half-smile, but didn’t answer.

  Slater said, ‘Not at all. We just don’t usually make conversation with anyone other than ourselves and our significant others. Takes some warming up.’

  Coombs said, ‘Can I buy you a beer?’

  Now it was Slater’s turn to half-smile. ‘A couple of months ago I would have jumped at the offer. But not tonight.’

  ‘Tonight in particular?’

  ‘I quit drinking.’

  Coombs gave a gruff nod. ‘Then you’re a braver man than me.’

  His eyes turned to King, and King shrugged. ‘Braver than the both of us.’

  ‘Can I buy you a beer, then? I respect Will. And he respects you. That’s enough for me.’

  King said, ‘I’d be honoured.’

  Coombs got up and drifted to the bar. In other social circumstances, those remaining at the table might have gossiped about the newcomer. But that wasn’t King’s style, nor Slater’s. They sat in comfortable silence. King pondered the directions life could take.

  Retirement.

  The private sector.

  No constant threat of death.

  He had to admit, it sounded pretty damn good.

  It was a shame he would never know what it was like.

  4

  Slater thought hard.

  He watched King fall into pensive self-analysis, and followed suit.

  Coombs had done it. In the Navy, Slater had known him as a hard-charging, take-no-shit drill instructor with zero room for compromise or civility. That was still there, under the surface. But the man had taught himself to suppress it, to only let it show when it was necessary. Perhaps it had allowed him to detach from his old mentality. Allowed himself room to breathe.

  Slater had never — not once — given himself room to breathe.

  That, potentially, was about to change.

  But he hadn’t told King.

  Before Coombs made it back, King said, ‘I might not see you before you leave tomorrow. Make sure you enjoy yourself.’

  It seemed like a false sentiment, so Slater didn’t respond.

  King said, ‘I mean it. These opportunities don’t come often.’

  About that, Slater thought.

  But he nodded. ‘Thanks, brother. I’ll try.’

  Coombs returned, and placed a fresh pint in front of King, who accepted it graciously.

  Then they talked. Conversation bled on for an hour, then two, and Slater found it easier than usual to compartmentalise. Neither he nor King felt the need to share details of past operations, but they talked about what they did in a broader sense. The training that went into it, the sacrifices they made, the decade-plus of their lives they’d given up. They didn’t discuss specific events — not the time they’d spent separately as vigilantes, on the run from their own government, nor the endless man-made disasters they’d prevented by the skin of their teeth, disasters so staggering that their success would have changed the course of history.

  Coombs didn’t pry.

  He knew better.

  But as the minutes turned to hours, and the conversation flowed smoother and smoother, the old man got a strange look in his eyes. Slater noticed first, and then he saw King pick up on it. Coombs held eye contact for a little too long, as if the conversation was just surface-level fodder, as if under that surface he was contemplating something drastic. Slater knew Coombs was no threat, but it sure felt that way. It mirrored the instincts he experienced in the field when he sensed the arrival of something unexpected.

  What that entailed… he wasn’t sure.

  The big antique clock on the far wall inched past ten p.m., and Coombs said, ‘Well, I best be going, lads.’

  Slater figured there was no use continuing to pretend there wasn’t something else there.

  He said, ‘Is there anything you wanted to say, Jack?’

  Coombs met his gaze. ‘You’re a smart fucker, you know that?’

  Slater smirked. ‘We both know something’s up.’

  King nodded his agreement.

  Coombs said, ‘I should have known who I was talking to.’

  Slater said, ‘We’ve been reading people for fifteen years.’

  ‘There’s something I have in mind,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think about connecting the dots until I was right here in front of you.’

  Silence.

  Coombs said, ‘I have a job opening.’

  ‘We don’t deal with the private sector,’ King said.

  Coombs looked across at him. ‘You mentioned before you were independent contractors for the government. How is that exclusive? What’s stopping you from doing something for me?’

  ‘We are,’ Slater said. ‘We’re stopping ourselves. We’re not in that business, Jack.’

  ‘I am,’ Coombs said. ‘And I’ve got a gig coming up that I’m all out of options for. It’s a simple job. Straightforward. No twists or turns. It’s protection detail.’

  ‘And there’s a thousand spec-ops washouts who would do protection detail with a lot more enthusiasm than we would.’

  Coombs said, ‘You shouldn’t be so hostile to the possibility. It’s a win-win. Easy money. It’d really help me out. I only need you, Will. It’s a one-man job.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Slater said.

  ‘I’m telling you—’

  ‘It’s not about the job,’ Slater said. ‘For one, we’d never be allowed. We’re on call twenty-four-seven. If our handler comes to us with an op, we need to act on it within the hour. We’re something of a last resort for the government. We’re the guys you call when every option is exhausted and the world’s about to go to shit. That’s not something we can step away from. And, secondly, I’m unavailable. I’m going on vacation tomorrow.’

  Coombs stared. ‘You’re really going to feed me all that shit about being irreplaceable and then follow it up by saying you’re going on holiday?’

  ‘It’s a one time thing,’ Slater said. ‘I used all my favours. I won’t get this opportunity again.’

  ‘Wouldn’t pick a guy like you to take holidays.’

  ‘Then you have good judgment. This is my first. Ever. I’m putting my foot down, Jack. This is something I need for my own sanity. If you want the truth, I’ve met someone. She’s taking me on holiday, and I don’t have the nerve to refuse. Besides King here, she’s the only good thing in my life. I’m not about to fuck that up. I’ve been pretending I’m superhuman for too long. I need these next few days.’

  It was the longest he’d spoken all evening. Coombs sat there, shifting his weight in the seat. Slater could see the man’s distress. He knew, even without Jack telling him, that the job was important. Perhaps crucial for his own reputation. But Slater couldn’t budge. This was his life.

  Coombs said, ‘I don’t want to do this.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Do you remember Coronado?’

  Slater paused, then said, ‘You’re right. You don’t want to do this.’

  ‘I have to. This is the most important gig of my life, and I need someone who won’t fuck it up. You’re right — there’s a thousand spec-ops washouts I could find. None of them are like you.’

  ‘Don’t make me choose between who I owe.’

  ‘You owe me,’ Coombs said. ‘You know you do.’

  King said, ‘Care to enlighten me?’

  Coombs turned. ‘It was during BUD/S, at the Naval Special Warfare Command Centre on Coronado Island. I walked in on Will and our best-looking female instructor in a supply closet. It was enough to kick them both out of the military. We barely accepted an angry glance during tr
aining. They both would have been out on the street if I did what I was supposed to. But I didn’t. Because I saw potential in your friend here. Turns out my judgment was right. But he relied on me, and now I’m relying on him.’

  King glanced at Slater, and instantly he knew it was true.

  5

  Now it was King’s turn to think.

  In truth, he didn’t need long.

  As much as he hated to admit it, there was a code. He and Slater had shared it the whole time they’d known each other, and they’d never once broken it. Never even considered it. If you worked in their world, you needed reassurances. You had to know you could rely on your brothers-in-arms.

  Loyalty trumped everything else. It cut through every arrangement, every agreement.

  You owe someone in their world, you never turn it down.

  So he knew why Slater was squirming. The man loved Alexis with his whole heart, but this was the brotherhood. Coombs had played his ace, and now there was no going back.

  Don’t make me choose.

  King couldn’t let him.

  He knew how badly Slater needed time away. He knew how effortlessly the strings of sanity could be cut in their world. King knew he himself was in a good place. He could take the verbal barrage from Violetta he knew would come. He could be the fall guy.

  So he said, ‘I’ll do it.’

  Coombs met his gaze. ‘No.’

  Slater stared at him too, but it was a look of profound and silent appreciation.

  King said, ‘You said you needed Will. I’m the same thing. Cut from the same cloth. And I’m available.’

  Coombs shook his head. ‘It’s the principle. I wouldn’t ask that of you. I don’t know you. You owe me nothing.’

  King jerked a thumb at Slater. ‘I owe him everything.’

  Coombs went quiet.

  King said, ‘It’s not just a vacation. For the first time in his life, he’s giving his time to someone he cares deeply about. He’s never done that before. The job has always come first. Don’t rip that away from him.’

  Coombs stayed quiet.

  King said, ‘I’m free. And I’m willing.’

  ‘You’d do that for him?’ Coombs said.

  ‘We’ve done a whole lot more for each other than that.’

  Coombs nodded.

  King said, ‘What’s the job?’

  ‘My biggest client,’ Coombs said. ‘Sam Donati. He needs protection.’

  King registered the name. It was familiar. ‘Donati Group?’

  ‘Yeah. The king of logistics. You know… transportation and shipping. He’s worth a few billion, at least, judging by the size of his empire. I’m on a trial period with him. He’s going to Moscow to negotiate a deal with a rival conglomerate. He’s paranoid that they’ll try to take him out over there. I’ve had a look over the dossier compiled by his security — leads they fished from the dark web — and I’m convinced it’s legit, too. The man’s made his fair share of enemies.’

  ‘Is it justified?’ King said. ‘Is he playing by the rules?’

  ‘As far as I can tell he is. In fact, I think it’d be right up your alley. It seems like he’s the only clean fish in a dirty pond. That’s why he’s being targeted. Because he refuses to follow the trend. You’d think that’d put him out of business, but it hasn’t. He’s lingering, and he’s pissing off his global competitors, and they’re a little more… unsavoury. They’re willing to do something about it.’

  ‘I’m not a bodyguard,’ King said.

  ‘The future of my business rides on this,’ Coombs said. ‘Donati is the ultimate client. That’s why I’m pulling out all the stops. I was going to turn to one of the spec-ops boys you mentioned. But they’d do a subpar job, and you know it. Donati is meticulous. He needs to be impressed. In all likelihood, nothing will happen over there. But I still need to go for broke. I don’t think it was a coincidence that I ran into the pair of you at such a pivotal point of my civilian career.’

  King went quiet.

  Coombs said, ‘You’re right. You’re not a bodyguard. But you’re the best. And I need the best.’

  ‘You don’t know anything about me,’ King said. ‘We haven’t told you anything at all, if you really think about it.’

  ‘You told me the nature of your line of work. You told me you’ve been doing it for nearly fifteen years. And you’re sitting here in front of me, still breathing.’

  Silence.

  Coombs said, ‘You two are the best.’

  King temporarily disregarded the old man. He turned to Slater, made sure he was looking him in the eyes. Slater stared back.

  King said, ‘Do you owe this man?’

  Slater said, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘There’s something else,’ Coombs said.

  King raised an eyebrow.

  The old man hunched over and leant forward like he was about to share nuclear launch codes and said, ‘It’s lucrative. I didn’t share that at first, because I wanted to make sure you were in it for the right reasons.’

  King looked at Slater, and they both smirked.

  Coombs sat back, perturbed.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  King said, ‘How lucrative?’

  ‘Donati’s offered me a hundred grand for the best,’ Coombs said. ‘I’m happy to charge full fee, knowing I’m contracting someone like you. I’m willing to give you seventy-five percent.’

  Again King looked at Slater.

  This time, they laughed.

  Again Coombs said, ‘What?’

  This time with a little more verve.

  Now it was King’s turn to hunch over and lean forward. He beckoned Coombs closer and lowered his voice and said, ‘Keep it.’

  Coombs said, ‘What?’

  Like a broken record, unable to compute.

  King said, ‘We never needed the money. This was about what Slater, and therefore I, owe you.’

  ‘But… you need to be paid.’

  ‘No,’ King said. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘This doesn’t make sense.’

  King turned to Slater. ‘He doesn’t understand.’

  Slater knew what needed to be done. He reached out and grabbed Coombs’ forearm and turned the old man toward him. He said, ‘On average, we were paid seven figures a gig, and between us we completed hundreds of successful gigs. On top of that, two years ago I drained a bank account belonging to a Macau triad. It had a mid-nine-figure balance. Do you understand now?’

  Coombs sat there, refusing to outwardly react.

  Inwardly, stunned.

  Finally, he said, ‘Mid-nine-fig— what the fuck? How much money do you two have?’

  ‘Plenty,’ King said. ‘So keep your hundred grand. When do I get to work?’

  6

  Eighteen hours later, Slater sat on a commercial flight beside the love of his life.

  En route to a destination where his only intention was to relax.

  He should have been over the moon.

  He wasn’t.

  He had history at Alexis’ vacation spot of choice. Sure, he had history all across the globe.

  This was different.

  His gut churned. The resort they’d be staying in was supposed to be a surprise, but by some cruel twist of fate he thought he knew exactly where they were headed.

  Beside him, she was oblivious. He intended to keep it that way.

  ‘Tulum,’ he said. ‘Mexico. I like it.’

  Alexis nestled against his shoulder. When he spoke, she looked up at him and he drank in the warmth of her eyes. Stark green, rimmed by long lashes. She had pale skin, and still wore her straight black hair forward in bangs that stopped just above her eyebrows.

  When she looked at him, nothing else mattered.

  She said, ‘You approve?’

  She knew everything. What he did for a living, what he’d done his whole life. Where he’d come from — the broken childhood, the devastation he’d crawled out of,
the warrior he’d forged himself into. He’d told her about his most dangerous operations, how close he’d come to death over and over and over again. He’d opened up about how that affected him, how it had shaped him, made him acutely aware of his own mortality.

  She knew it all.

  Except for one key area.

  Ruby Nazarian.

  He didn’t want to talk about her. Not with Alexis, not with King, not with anyone. She’d died saving San Francisco, just as he’d finally decided he could commit to someone after a lifetime of womanising. It wasn’t that he really cared about the number of women he slept with — he’d simply been terrified of anything permanent. His career, and his life, were as abnormal as one could imagine. He’d never wanted to place that burden on anyone. He didn’t want to let anyone care about him, because in all likelihood he’d die on the next op.

  It was a shadow that had followed him his whole career, always in the background, ever-present. He’d never believed in superstition, but this had been different. He knew, without a doubt, as soon as he opened up to someone, something terrible would happen to either them, or him. So he’d stuck to his guns.

  Until Ruby.

  She was from his world, a fellow operative, much younger but with a similar level of experience. A protege of the Lynx program, a clandestine government initiative that raised young girls as assassins and unleashed them into the world when they came of age.

  She was like a second piece of him.

  Two sides of the same coin.

  And she’d died. As soon as he’d opened up.

  As he’d predicted.

  It had taken him months to move on. He still hadn’t — not fully. He wasn’t sure if he ever would. But Alexis meant just as much to him, if not more. Because she was as strong and as fierce as Ruby Nazarian and simultaneously a civilian. It didn’t make sense. She had no combat experience, nothing to do with the world of espionage and murder, but she had an iron-like will. Which somehow made it more impressive. Months ago, during a blackout in New York, Slater had met her through a chance encounter, and since then they’d been inseparable.

  But now they were barrelling toward Tulum, toward a small seaside town in Mexico where Slater had reunited with Ruby Nazarian nearly a year ago.