he was able to hack into all of his information and link it to the offshore bank accounts that paid Rick. He also found out that he’d paid a guy named Jonathan Tate a hundred and fifty grand the night Olivia’s parents were killed. Must have been too chicken-shit to commit murder on his own. He just paid the guy another hundred grand yesterday along with a plane ticket to Memphis. Tate isn’t affiliated with any organization, so we won’t have to worry about any blowback from him. According to Crow’s intel, the two met at a shooting range six months ago. Tate’s an alcoholic hermit doomsday prepper,” Gus explained, shaking his head.
“Looks like he won’t be alone tonight.”
“Depending on what they were able to bring on the plane, they might be stopping somewhere to get more guns and ammo before they get here,” Bic added.
“I’ll have Crow keep an eye on it,” Gus told him. “But for now, it’s time for us to roll out.”
We all piled into the SUV and headed towards Olivia’s apartment. Once we got there, Cyrus pulled Rick out of the truck and had him make one final call to Daniel. As soon as he answered, Rick told him, “They’re still home. I’ve been watching the place all night. I think they’re in their rooms, from what I can tell. They turned the living room lights off about thirty minutes ago. Yeah, just like I told you. It’s the apartment above Daisy’s Diner on Front Street. The first one at the top of the stairs.” He paused and then said, “Yeah, they’re all there and it’s just them. Been up there for a while now.” Before he hung up, Rick asked, “Hey, man. When will I get the other half of my money?” Unfortunately for him, the line went dead before he got his answer. Rick grumbled, “Lying bastard. Bet ten to one he doesn’t pay me another dime.”
“Yeah, it’s not looking good for you there, buddy,” Cyrus chuckled as he yanked him back over to the SUV and locked him inside.
Within the hour, we were in Olivia’s apartment. It felt strange being there. The place didn’t look the same without her in it. We got to our posts. With Crow monitoring the surveillance feeds from the cameras they’d installed the day before, we’d have no problem knowing exactly when Daniel entered the building. Lowball and a couple of prospects were holed up outside in the hallway and Gus and Murph were in the kitchen while Cyrus and I waited by the front door with our weapons drawn. Since the club owned the diner and the apartments upstairs, we didn’t have to be concerned about anyone reporting gunfire. We had everything covered, and now all we had to do was wait.
Luckily we didn’t have to wait long before Crow’s voice came through our two-way radio, letting us know that Daniel had just parked his rental car in the back lot. With Tate in the lead, they started up the back steps. Crow continued to inform us of every move they made until they reached Olivia’s front door. The tension in the room crackled around me as I watched the door handle turn. Knowing they were just on the other side, I had to fight the urge to yank the door open and just end them both right then and there. I took a deep breath and held myself together.
Eventually, the door crept open, and my heart began to pound against my chest as Tate slowly slipped inside. He was a big guy, and he reeked of cigarettes and cheap liquor. I was about to come unglued with impatience when seconds later, Daniel followed in behind him. He was tall and lanky, and the idiot thought he was being clever by wearing all black, right down to the gloves and ski mask, like some burglar he’d seen on TV. Just seeing him made me want to punch him in the face.
The door clicked shut, and just as Tate took a step forward, he spotted the reflection of one of the guys in the kitchen.
“Fuck!” he shouted as he aimed his gun at Murph, but before he had a chance to shoot, Gus nailed him right between the eyes. Blood gushed from his wound as his lifeless body dropped to the ground.
Daniel froze. I stepped up behind him and said, “Surprise, surprise, motherfucker. Don’t you know better than to mess with a biker’s ol’ lady?”