17. An Irish Comes Calling
17
An Irish Comes Calling
Tony
Tony : Someone wanna tell me why I’m getting word that some Irish mad man is looking for me?
Darius : Well, I don’t know. Is there something you need to tell us?
Antoinette : That definitely sounds like a you problem.
Carolina : What the hell did you do now?
Tony : I didn’t do anything.
Carolina : That’s what you always say.
Darius : Have you considered just asking why he’s looking for you?
Tony : Admitting I don’t know what’s going on would be a mistake.
Antoinette : That may still be better than not knowing.
Tony : I hate you.
Antoinette : Liar.
I close out of my texting app and pick up my burner phone, calling my Irish contact. The call connects, and no one says anything, so I say, “What does he want?”
“To meet.”
“Why?”
My question is met with silence, which I suspected would happen, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. I let the silence drag on until I can’t take it anymore, and then I sputter, “Fine. When?”
“He’ll see you in three minutes. Don’t move.”
The line goes dead, and I curse under my breath because I should have known this would happen. These people have no use for boundaries or notice, so it’s no great surprise that they’ve got a tail on me, and the man himself is likely within spitting distance of me. This also proves that I’m slacking because I didn’t even notice that I was being followed.
Realizing I have no other option, I do as I’m told and don’t move from my current seat. Happy I already ordered myself a coffee, I take a sip and enjoy the last few moments of silence I’m probably going to get for a while.
Sure enough, within moments, that Irish motherfucker is pulling out the chair across from me and having a seat like we’re old friends.
I don’t waste time with niceties or any of that fake bullshit. I just ask, “What do you want?”
“Matt sent me.”
Well, this gets my attention. I almost drop my coffee halfway to my mouth, but I catch myself in time and set it on the table hard enough that some of the hot liquid splashes onto the table. “You’ve seen Matt?”
He nods and then says, “I got word that somehow my daughter ended up in the same building he’s in. Apparently, engaged to a truly horrific man under the guise that we’re going to unite the families.”
I frown, shaking my head as I ask, “Your daughter? What the fuck does this have to do with Matt?”
He raises his brows at me, and for a moment, it feels like I’m going to be reprimanded for being a moron, but I raise my brows back and then wait until he finally answers, “Jessica. Is it safe for me to assume she’s in that building because of you?”
Now, I squirm a bit under his intense stare, which isn’t something I do very often, but I’m not going to bother lying to the man. “That would be a group effort, actually. But entirely her choice.”
He lifts his arms and rests his hands on the table, palms down flat, and I get the impression he’s repressing his urge to snatch up the butter knife in front of him and stab it through my neck. I mean, I wouldn’t let him, but it would definitely be a fight for the ages. So, I add, “Jessica being your daughter is news to me. It’s news to all of us. I’m relatively sure Matt didn’t even know that.”
I pull my phone back out, bring up my group text, and ignore the slew of messages I missed as I send a new one.
Tony : Did any of you know that Jessica is linked to the Irish?
Darius : Excuse me?
Antoinette : Well, that would explain her murderous tendencies.
Darius : It’s becoming increasingly obvious that we’re missing more things than we’re catching lately, and that perhaps once we get Matt back, we should fine-tune our processes so we can stop looking like assholes.
Tony : Well, since you’re the boss, you’re the only one that actually looks like an asshole.
Carolina : *skull emoji*
Darius : *middle finger emoji*
I close out of my messages again, setting it on the table as I say, “No, we didn’t know. Kind of annoyed that we didn’t know, but it is what it is at this point.”
“It’s irrelevant,” he says tiredly. “Now we just have to work on getting her out. Matt said he’ll do whatever he can to prevent her from marrying that snake, but it’s highly likely he won’t be able to manage that without significant bloodshed. At some point, it will likely require an extraction, something that I can’t be linked to.”
I narrow my eyes at him, my arms crossing over my chest as I lean back in my chair. “Why can’t it be linked to you?”
“I have far too many people depending on me to end up in a war over one life.”
I smile and reply, “How about the war of all wars?”
He cocks his head at me and asks, “Explain.”
“If we go in there on an extraction mission, it usually ends up being more of an extermination,” I explain. “We’re not going to go in there and just remove the two people we need. We’re going to eliminate every last motherfucking one of them while completing the mission.”
“So, you’re saying if I don’t want to be part of the extermination, I had better leave?”
“That depends on which side you’re on,” I answer honestly. “If you’re with us, you’re safe. If you’re against us, you’re dead.” He gives me a rather arrogant look and chuckles under his breath. He says nothing, and eventually, I ask, “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been threatened so nonchalantly before.”
“What can I say,” I reply affably. “I’m a nonchalant kind of guy.”
“Now, I know that’s a fuckin’ lie.”
I can’t help but smile, and then I change the subject. “So, how does Matt suggest we do this? Everyone knows us, and I can’t say I’d pass for a very pretty woman.”
“I have that handled. I’ll be sending someone over to the warehouse this evening with everything you need to go deep undercover.”
“How deep?”
He stands and looks down at me as he replies, “You won’t even recognize yourself.”
Stuffing my phone into my pocket, I rise from my chair, pick up my cold coffee, and throw it in the bin as I follow him out the door. I stop on the street, and he extends his hand to me as he says, “We don’t necessarily want to be part of a war, but rest assured that the Irish won’t stand in your way.”
I take his hand, giving it a good shake before releasing it, and I nod. “Rest assured that we’ll go in there and get it taken care of.”
He says nothing further, just turns and walks away, quickly disappearing into the crowd. I reach into my pocket to pull out my phone only to come out with a rectangular business card.
I flip it over, and written on it is: Camilla McDonough - Illusionist . There’s no phone number, email address, or anything else, but I know he must have slipped it into my pocket at some point.
I shake my head, annoyed that everyone seems to be quicker than me lately.
Shrugging off my brief moment of inferiority, I head off in the direction of the warehouse, whistling.