Shattered (Anderson Special Ops #4) - Melody Anne Page 0,74

almost a gentleman’s agreement to it, if there was anything gentlemanly about getting people addicted to drugs and exploiting them for as long as possible.

The bouncer in front of the team might or might not have known of Jorge’s disappearance, but he knew the name and the wrath that would come down from his boss if he was found responsible for that much money walking away from the business.

If there was any type of reaction to the threat from Smoke, the big man didn’t show it. He simply pulled out his phone, smashed the screen with his massive fingers, and connected to his boss.

“Hey, Tre. Smoke’s here with two whities, says they’re his money men. Yeah, I checked ’em. Nah, one’s tiny, like a teenage girl, the other one looks like a little bitch, scared of his own shadow, probably never seen a real black man before. A’ight, I’ll check and send them through.”

The heavy door gave a couple of clicks and buzzes, indicating the mechanisms that bolted it shut had been released from somewhere inside the building.

“Boss told me to look in the suitcases. Said he don’t care how much you say you have, if you don’t got cash in that thing there ain’t gonna be no meetin’,” the bouncer said with an air of superiority.

Showing no emotion at the request, Eyes and Sleep slid the four large briefcases across the counter separating the oversized man from them. They opened the cases by pressing a specific sequence of numbers, then placed their thumbs over the top of small electronic readers. Once the cases confirmed the thumb prints, latches popped, giving access to the contents inside. With a quick twist of the cases, stacks of one hundred-dollar bills proved their existence and were quickly closed again.

The big man gave a head nod toward the door, then turned his attention to his phone. The three men walked past him in single file. Smoke was first, then Eyes, and finally Sleep, taking up the rear. Sleep slowed as he moved by the bouncer and said just loud enough to be heard by the oversized giant: “Anytime you want to test that theory of who’s scared of a shadow, I’d be more than happy to be your boogeyman.” Then Sleep stepped through the door before a response could be given.

“Smmmoookkke, my man . . . get over here!” yelled Tre, one of the main drug bosses ripping away at the fabric of society in the Seattle metro area.

There were three other men in the same position that Tre held. One, Jorge, had already been taken down, and his empire quickly disseminated by federal joint forces that included the DEA, and FBI, as well as a few other select groups. All had been given incredibly accurate information on the hierarchy of the people connected to Jorge, the routes the drugs had come from, bank accounts that money went in and out of, as well as video and photo evidence. All of it seemed to come from sources all over the world. That information had come from an anonymous source with a simple note reading: “Act now, move fast, more’s coming.”

Tre was about to go down, and the best part was he had no clue. There were two others remaining. A Russian with connections to an oligarch in the oil world and a German whose mob ties dated back multiple generations. This mission was focused on Tre.

Giving each other a hug in the middle of the room, Smoke and Tre separated while they mock shadowboxed with one another. Tre was a cold-blooded killer, who’d personally extinguished at least twenty-three people on his way to becoming the boss. That number was probably short by a good twenty more people, but there weren’t a lot of witnesses to his crimes, and even less proof to build cases on from when he’d been the triggerman in his youth.

In the beginning of the investigations Smoke had been questioned about whether he was a cop. Each rung up the ladder had refused to meet with him. Then, somehow, Tre had caught wind of this large, cocky man who was buying up product non-stop and seemed too clean to be legit.

A photo had been handed over to Tre, who’d recognized him, and instantly insisted on meeting Smoke. That was a surprise to Smoke but he’d rolled with it, and when Tre said he remembered Smoke playing in the NFL and recalled the play that broke Smoke’s wrist, things had fallen into