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“Yeah, well, we also have enemies in high places.”

“Fuck ’em.”

Rapp scanned the parking lot. “You sure you weren’t followed?”

“No.” He looked at his vehicle. “You think you’d have a hard time putting a tail on this thing?”

Rapp looked at the nine-passenger truck. “You get married and have a bunch of kids I don’t know about?”

“No, I’ve got a lot of shit I have to haul around,” the former SEAL replied a bit defensively.

“The environmentalists must love you. What’s that thing get…about two miles to the gallon?”

“The environmentalists can go fuck themselves,” growled Coleman. “There isn’t a bigger group of brainwashed dipshits on the planet.”

“Come on, Scott, tell me how you really feel about them.”

“The same way you do,” snarled Coleman. “Now, I didn’t drive all the way across town to meet you in some high school parking lot so you could give me shit about my truck.”

Rapp held up his hands. Coleman was normally a pretty cool customer. “Calm down. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

“I haven’t killed anyone in a while. What’s wrong with you?”

“God,” Rapp moaned, “you SEALs are a weird bunch.”

“Oh…and you’re the picture of mental health.”

“Good point,” Rapp laughed, “but seriously…what’s up? You just find out you have testicular cancer or something?”

“Worse…the fucking IRS called me this morning. They want to see all my records…personal and business.”

Rapp didn’t like the sound of this. He got noticeably more serious. “Have you ever had any problems with them before?”

“Hell no. I was an officer in the Navy for almost twenty years. We don’t make enough money for them to mess around with.”

“And now that you’re getting all of these government contracts…”

“Shit, I suppose. I mean, Mitch, we’re billing seven-plus figures every month. I’ve had to hire five people just to handle all the paperwork.”

“How are your records?”

“How the fuck would I know…I’m not an accountant.”

Rapp stared at him with his hawklike eyes. “Do you have anything to hide?”

Coleman looked down and kicked a rock. “I don’t know. Like I said, I’m not an accountant.”

“Scott, it’s me…Mitch. If I’m going to help you out here, you have to be straight with me.”

“Can you make this go away?” Coleman asked hopefully.

“As long as you haven’t fucked up too bad…yeah.”

Coleman kicked another rock. “As far as I know all the domestic stuff is in order, but I’ve got an offshore company that I run most of the foreign contracts through.”

“And you keep the money offshore.”

“Yeah.” He looked up at Rapp uncomfortably.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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