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“Here.” Goldie appears, holding up a bunch of them. She hands them out, finishing with Ringo. “Don’t argue with me,” she says, and he doesn’t, starting to strip his upper body with the rest of us.
“Got a spare one of those?” Lennox asks.
“I think it might raise suspicion if you answer the door in a vest.” But the last thing any of us want is to have to go home and explain to a young lad that his only decent parent is dead. So I nod to Goldie, who throws him one. “Make sure it’s covered properly,” I say.
Half an hour passes.
An hour.
Two.
Everyone is restless, James is standing back from the window, checking past the blind constantly. “Game of cards?” Ringo asks. “Poker?”
I laugh under my breath, as Danny smiles to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Lennox asks.
“The last time I played poker, I won my wife.”
“What?” Lennox blurts. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Deadly.” Danny starts pacing.
“Come on,” Ringo whines. “I’m dying of boredom here.”
“I don’t have any money on me,” Danny muses, as everyone looks at the bag of cash.
“Here we go,” James says from the window, his gun coming up. Everyone in the room stands, alert, weapons being pulled from everywhere. “Two cars.”
“Two?” Lennox asks, his eyes batting between us all. “Why the fuck have they sent two cars?”
I go to him, taking his hand and putting my gun in it. “Don’t hesitate,” I say, pulling another from the back of my jeans. “Just make sure the bullet doesn’t land in any of us.” I go to James and Danny by the window.
“There’re two in each car,” James says. “The two men from the first car will come in. The other two will stay outside.” The first car slows to a stop just past the driveway, the second stopping directly across it. “Lennox will answer the door. I’ll be behind it, so you all wait in here.”
I nod, Danny takes a casual seat on the couch, looking comfortable as James faces Lennox. “Where’s the gun?” he asks. Lennox taps the back of his pants. “You open the door onto me, stand back, not letting go of the door, and let them in. Close the door and draw at the same time.” James wanders out to the front door, leaving Lennox looking bewildered. “And don’t drag this out,” he calls back. I think he’s talking to me and Danny. “It’s a nice neighborhood. It’s only a matter of time before someone notices the two X5s on the street.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny says, stoic, his gun resting on the arm in his loose grip. He looks at me. “Don’t drag it out,” he says, passing the baton. Happy days.
“You’re not in the mood for bloodshed?”
“My wife’s provided enough bloodshed recently.” He turns a cold stare onto Lennox.
“Like I said,” Lennox murmurs, looking toward where James just disappeared. “I prefer redheads.”
I feel Danny’s eyes on me, but I don’t entertain him.
“Ready,” Goldie says from the window.
“Armed?” I ask.
“Yep.” Of course they are. And extra vigilant, I expect, after Lennox pulled a James and went all Rambo on Sandy’s messengers. Goldie holds up three fingers. Then two. Then one. Everyone falls silent, and the doorbell chimes.
“Jesus,” Lennox murmurs, leaving the room.
“Be cool,” I order as he goes, listening, hearing the door open. No talking. The sound of boots on the wooden floor. Then the door closes and a flurry of rushed foreign words are spat. Russian curses. We all watch the entrance of the lounge until two wide black-covered backs appear, hands up. “You stupid man,” one drawls. “You’ll be dead within twelve hours.”
“Welcome,” I sing, and they spin around. Their faces when they realize how outnumbered they are is quite amusing. Ringo moves in and pats them down, pulling backup guns from their pants. “Take a seat.” I point my gun to the couch opposite. “Enjoy our hospitality.”
