XVIII
Dylan sat in his car, the engine off. He sighed and glanced at a broken-down bar from the fifties. No one came or went in the last hour. Dylan grabbed his keys with thoughts of heading back to Zeek's.
A Glock appeared just behind his ear. A young black kid held it. "Huh," he murmured. But only thought, "Where did he come from?" Dylan looked the kid up and down.
"Out of the car, old man." The kid's arm was fully extended and bobbed up and down. He didn't have the muscle to keep the gun straight.
Dylan rolled his eyes. "How old are you, son?"
"I said out of the car."
"You made two mistakes."
"Not from where I'm standing." The kid reached forward, grabbing the latch of the door. Dylan clicked the unlock button, and the door cracked open. He pushed the door. It flew wide open, knocking into the kid and sending him to the ground.
Outside the Mustang, Dylan kicked the Glock away from the kid and grabbed him by his jacket. He lifted the kid and pushed him against his car.
"Mistake number one: the gun was too close. You should have stepped back. Mistake number two: Don't be in the path of my door. Stand closer to the backseat. The door won't clip you if opened. You were also a bit aggressive."
The kid's eyes quivered. He failed to stop tears from forming. He paused before he spoke. "Well, go ahead. Kill me."
Dylan stared at the kid.
"I think you should let the kid go." Samuel Thane sat on the Mustang's hood.
Dylan's grip loosened. The kid dropped back to the street. "Go on home, little gangster. Your mom is going to worry," Samuel said.
The kid nodded and took off down the street. Dylan turned toward Samuel. "Are you Samuel?"
"Yeah, and you're Dylan Price." Samuel got off Dylan's car.
"You know my name?"
"Vasiliev family sent out a video of you. They told every Information Broker to keep an eye out. What are you doing here?"
"Miles said you might have information."
"Who?" Samuel asked. "I don't remember giving information to a man named Miles."
Dylan rolled his eyes. "Of course, he didn't go by his name. I need some intel about the Vasiliev family. I want to know why they attacked a hospital."
Samuel turned away from Dylan for a moment. "You got something to trade?"
"I'll owe you a favor."
"Tempting. Suppose I give you this information. What will you do with it?"
"Go and find out why they wanted to kill Haruna Wu."
"And if they kill you? Who will I turn to for that favor?"
"Miles Jackson."
"Here's where we have a problem. You are bringing up that man again. You say he knows me, but I don't know him. How can I tell if he exists? Let alone what name he'll go by next? Then there is the question of if he will honor your deal."
Dylan shook his head and chuckled. He knew who Miles was. He just wanted something else. "What do you want?"
"Money," Samuel said.
"How much?"
"Ten thousand."
"I can beat a location out of you for that."
"Well, this is where being an Information Broker comes in handy. You want to find Boris Vasiliev. He's the head of the Russian family and not hard to find. All I have to do is take you to a warehouse a few miles from here and call a number. He promised a ten-thousand-dollar reward for you alive. I think he wants to skin you alive or something. Boris Vasiliev is brought to you, and I get ten grand."
"What will you do with the ten grand?"
"Why do you care?"
"Tell me, and you have a deal."
"All right, I put most of it back into the neighborhood."
"How much?" Dylan asked. Samuel raised an eyebrow. "I got to know who I'm getting into business with."
"About a fifth goes to weapons and information. The rest I circulate to whoever needs it. Some families need a little more so their kids don't starve."
Dylan offered his hand to Samuel. "Deal. One other thing: I need ammo for my pistols."
Samuel grabbed Dylan's hand and shook it. "Won't be a problem. But you're driving to my warehouse." Samuel walked around Dylan's car and got into the passenger seat. Dylan entered his vehicle and started the engine.
