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“Or maybe you won’t call!” the African shouted. “Maybe you’re trying to starve us of weapons so Kariem can massacre us!”
He pulled out a massive combat knife and held it to Black’s neck. Rapp didn’t react. It was all for show. NaNomi wasn’t there to kill his boss’s arms dealer. Just to provide him with a little motivation.
“That’s not true!” Black said emphatically. “In fact, those two guys back there are my suppliers. I was just placing an order when you showed up.”
The African released him and started toward Azarov as Black fell to the floor.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Azarov bowed his head respectfully. “I’m Grisha.”
“A Russian.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And is what Kent says true? Are you here to sell him weapons?”
“I am, sir.”
NaNomi turned and strode toward Rapp. “And you? Who are you?”
Rapp just stared back at him.
“I asked you a question!” he said, bringing the knife up.
They didn’t have time for this shit. The details for the Monaco op needed to be finalized and all the logistics needed to be ironed out before bin Musaid ventured out of his brother’s house. None of that was going to be possible with this tool nosing around.
The silence drew out long enough that Black finally filled it. “That’s Mitch. He’s an American. T
hey’re bidding against each other. I’m trying to get Abdo the best price.”
“Is that true?” NaNomi asked.
By way of an answer, Rapp grabbed the man’s wrist, yanking his arm out and snapping it at the elbow. When NaNomi dropped the knife, Rapp caught it, then drove it into the top of his skull hard enough that the point came through his chin.
The room’s reaction was easily predicted. Azarov just stood there, watching calmly. Black ran and dove over an overturned pew. NaNomi’s men froze.
It was unlikely that any one of the young guerrillas had ever made a decision on their own in their lives. Now they were faced with an impossible one. Did they avenge NaNomi even if it meant killing the men who supplied their leader with weapons? Did they just ignore what had happened and go report back? Did they grab the white men and take them?
No, what they desperately wanted was for someone to give them an order to follow. And Rapp was happy to oblige.
“Get out,” he said. “Tell Abdo he’ll have his weapons next week and we’re going to give him forty percent off his normal deal.”
They just stood there for a few seconds. Finally, one on the right started for the door. The movement seemed to break the others from their trance and they began to follow.
“Hold on,” Rapp said, pointing to the corpse at his feet. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Two of the boys scurried over and dragged what was left of NaNomi outside. A few moments later they were speeding back up the road.
“What the fuck?” Black said, dropping the rifle he’d had stashed behind the pew. “Why did you do that?”
When Rapp didn’t answer, Azarov spoke up. “NaNomi wasn’t sent here to threaten, Kent. He was sent to get weapons. He would have stayed and held us until your shipment arrived. We don’t have time for these kinds of distractions.”
“Distractions? That’s easy for you to say—you don’t live here. You don’t work with these psychos. Do you know what Abdo did to the last guy who screwed him on a deal? He smeared meat on the guy’s dick and then turned a hyena loose on it. And not just any hyena. His pet hyena. That’s right. The guy keeps a fucking hyena as a pet.”
Rapp turned and started for the office. “You worry too much, Kent. You need to learn to relax.”
CHAPTER 27
