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“I found his fucking den, Hatch. Every name, job, everything—it’s here.” I glance around the small room. “We have the opportunity to take shit over. Literally everything is here.”
“Cyrus… You and I both know why you can’t do that.” He’s right. Even if I wanted to continue, I can’t. I’m done in this business.
Every time a job is assigned, they’re categorized by a color, which will normally tell you the difficulty of the job. Yellow is low-level. Junkies, deadbeat dads, and people no one will miss. Blue is a step above. Suburban moms, low-level bankers, and other people of the likes that could make a job a bit more difficult. Then there is green. These are high-ranking people. Lawyers, congressmen, or cops. The type of people you have to be really careful taking out.
And each category of job comes with its own payout. Yellow is normally chump change. Anything from five grand up to ten grand. Blue, you can expect a minimum of twenty thousand or more. But green… those are the jackpot. Green jobs start out at seventy-five thousand and move up by the thousands depending on the person.
But the one color that is almost nonexistent—the one we don’t see often—is black, and for good reason. These are the most difficult of tasks because it’s the exact people you work with. No names are ever supposed to be mentioned, but mine was, which made the target on my back even bigger.
Trying to kill a killer is hard but not impossible. Everyone has a price on their head, and how far you’re willing to go determines how much you could make.
When each job is presented to Ghost, an email or text goes out specifying the color, the amount of money someone will pay, and the general location. After he gathers interest, he sends someone out, and once it’s completed, another email or text is sent out marking the job as red. Red means done.
By having Bradley send the message he did, I basically let everyone in Ghost’s underground network know I was dead, and the payment was made. If I show my face again, I’d be a literal dead man. Assassins stop at nothing when money is on the table.
“But you could,” I finally say.
“Take over?” He laughs. “You know everyone would be gunning for me if I did. They’d want it for themselves.”
“Yeah? But you would have something they don’t.”
“Which is?”
“Anonymity and all the information. I can have Bradley give you the basics on how to do the tech side of shit, and you can keep things going the exact way Ghost did.”
“Did? Does this mean he’s gone?”
“Yeah… he’s gone.”
Silence falls again. The only sound filling the air is the keys on Bradley’s keyboard and my own heartbeat in my ears.
Hatcher finally speaks again. “I’ll do it.”
I sigh with relief. With Hatcher in charge, I won’t have to worry as much because I know he’d never send anyone after me. I could take Carmen and get the fuck away from everything.
“Good. Meet me in Bexley” is the only reply I give him before hanging up. Moving back to Bradley’s side, I lay a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to need one more favor.”
I can see the slight tic of his jaw before he tips his head, questioning me without words.
“Can you teach someone the basics of sending to that master list?” I point to the tab where it’s still pulled up on his laptop as he works on the desktop.
“Yeah, it’s fairly simple.”
I nod. “And how much would you want to crack all of those so I can have the info?” I point to the external hard drives.
He shakes his head, then scrubs his hand down his face. “That could take me months.”
“Then you can have a steady income for months, if you’re willing.”
“Look—”
“You won’t be working with me if that’s what you’re about to say.”
He levels his eyes with mine. “Will this shit get me killed?”
“No. No one will know.”
He nods, then lets out a breath. “I can work on it when I’m not at my normal nine-to-five. That’s the best I can do.”
