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“No,” I snapped.
She looked around. “Where’s the cue ball? I had a hankerin’ for a dill pickle.”
“Ohhhhhh momma,” Sid groaned through my earpiece.
Jack ignored him – and her. “Where is it?”
“All work and no play done made you a dull boy, Jack.”
“Sloane – ”
“Jesus, keep your panties on. Pigpen, pop the trunk.”
The trunk opened up and we walked around to the back. There were two large canvas bags inside. Sloane unzipped one, exposing a long green tube with a couple of metal thingamajigs on it.
A rocket launcher.
Jesus.
“It’s a LAWS – Light Anti somethin’ somethin’. Woulda got you an AT4, but this was all my guy had on short notice. Basically point and shoot. Make sure you’re at least a hundred feet away from whatever you’re shooting at, though, or you’ll be toast, too. And keep anybody away from the tail end of the thing, or they’ll get flash-fried when you shoot it. I got you two rounds. That should be damn near enough to blow up anything short of a tank.”
“What’s in the other bag?”
“I figured you might need a refill after last night, so…” She unzipped the other bag. Inside were several pistols, a couple of assault rifles, a dozen clips, and boxes upon boxes of ammunition. “Had my guy turn ‘em into full-automatic for you, so don’t go blowin’ your load right outta the gate.”
“Thanks, Sloane,” Jack said appreciatively. “I’ll have to get the money to you later, though.”
“Don’t worry, sugar. You deliver on our deal, this one’s on the house.”
Kade lugged the bags out of the Challenger’s trunk and stashed them in the pickup cab behind the seats.
Sloane hooked her hands in the back of her jean pockets and gazed at Jack. “Well.”
“Well.”
They looked for all the world like a couple with a lot to say, but a lot of reluctance to say it.
I can’t say I wasn’t jealous, but I bit my tongue.
“Don’t get yourself killed, Jack,” she said softly.
“I’ll try not to.”
“Let me know how it goes.”
“We will.”
“Good luck, guys,” she said to all of us as she got back in the Challenger. “Momma needs a new pair of shoes and a shit-ton of new territory.”
With that, the muscle car tore out of the parking lot and back out onto the street.
“Lord God a’mighty,” Sid said.
“Be careful, old timer,” Jack said as we got into the cab. “She’d eat you alive.”
“It’d be a damn good way to go out. You’re takin’ Fiona over THAT? No offense, kid.”
“Sid,” I said, “if we make it out of this alive, I’m going to kick your ass.”
