Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“I didn’t ask to work for you. I don’t want an appreciation gift. I want money, and lots of it.”
Bannon’s eyes widened. “I’m not givin’ you a fucking penny unless you have something worth paying for.” He clasped his hands.
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I have something worth payin’ for and then some. The tip about Irish is just a bonus. Something to sweeten the deal. Archer deserves me being here, talking to you, because of all that he’s done. I’ve been loyal to him up until this point.” He pointed to himself. “This is a taste of his own medicine. This is what happens when you double-cross me. I’m one of the few guys left that isn’t afraid of that motherfucker. What I have for you, Dr. Bannon, if the price is right, is his current distributor list, his full client list, the cops we’ve got under our umbrella nationwide, the product and Archer’s pricing of each item we transport, our fleet suppliers, and his one of a kind, special routes. Everyone wants their hands on that man’s routes. They’re his claim to fame.”
Mr. Bannon’s face lit up.
“Now, we’re talking. Show me everything you’ve got. I’m listening.” The doctor held up his finger, as if asking for a moment, then picked up his phone. “Hello, Bethany dear? Please tell the nurses they can prep Mrs. Harris in one hour. My meeting is running a bit late…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Archer’s face and neck trickled with sweat. He’d taken a break from over an hour of archery exercise to check out some information on his phone. He’d recently changed his passwords to all of his accounts, but noticed that someone had tried to breach into his personal files on the company server.
Grabbing his towel from a chair, he dabbed at his face, then began to pace back and forth as he remembered other odd things that occurred. Like one of the cameras in the warehouse suddenly went out thirty minutes ago. He dialed his sister.
“What do you want?” Irish snapped. The sounds of ‘Out of Body’ by Gorillaz featuring Kilo Kish, Zebra Katz and Imani Vonshà drifted through the line from the room she was staying in.
“Hey, don’t have an attitude with me because I reminded you about your Gambling Anonymous appointment. I want you dressed and ready to go soon. I’ll drive you myself.”
“No, I’ve already called an Uber. It’s fine…” She huffed, clearly lying through her teeth. “I know if I don’t go, I’ll be in violation of my parole.”
“Yeah, and that’s not what either of us wants. Look, I need you to do me a favor.”
“What could you possibly want this time?”
“This is serious, Irish. Maybe it’s a glitch, I don’t know,” his shoulders slumped, “but I think someone is trying to get into my map routing files. I recently changed the passwords, so I saw two old PIN attempts that I know I didn’t make.” He paused from his pacing, his head throbbing. Only two people have that password, and I’m one of them. He’s doing exactly what I thought he’d try to do.
“So you want me to check it out? Try ’nd trace who did it?”
“Yeah. I need added security on my computer, too. Can you handle that?”
“Of course.”
“I also think that someone unplugged one of the cameras at the warehouse, or maybe they accidentally tripped it or ran over it with a forklift. I want to change out the cameras you installed. All new equipment. New passwords. Automated. So if the power goes out, or the plug gets removed, the interior, not just the exterior, camera still rolls. That means my control center will need to be redone, too, but that’s fine.”
“Well, if you want an entirely new system and motherboard, that’s going to be expensive.”
“I’ll get you whatever you need to get it done, and get it done fast.”
“Whatever I need, huh?” He heard a light laugh emit from her as she turned the music down. “Why don’t you throw a car in there to ensure it’s done not only fast, but right?”
He chuckled at that. Irish finally had him where she wanted him. He needed a favor, and she was going to squeeze him dry, blood be damned.
“I’ll get you a Hyundai Santa Fe, with navigation and—”
“Are you takin’ Fentanyl?! My brother, the big, bad Archer, wants to buy me, his precious one and only sister, a Hyundai?!”
“I don’t know about precious… but anyway, it would be new. Not the used sale lot. Top of the line.”
“You cheap bastard. Your garage houses two Lamborghinis, two classic cars that are worth six figures, a Porsche, a Ferrari, a limited-edition Bugatti, a BMW, two top class Harley Davidsons, a fuckin’ boat is docked with your nickname on it, and let’s not forget about the Aston Martin you’re trying to buy!”