Page 53 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“WHAT THE HELL is wrong with you?”

Five ran outside as soon as he heard the gun-in-a-box blasting, echoing up and down the block and off the nearby mesas.

The PK was empty and wheezing. Two shredded cops was about the last thing Five wanted to see.

He quickly scanned the block, looking for witnesses.

He caught no faces, but he did see a few hastily pulled window shades. Good. This was none of their business.

Now he had to deal with these two idiots.

“Are you trying to make this plan go to shit? Do you want the goddamned Federales rolling up here with a tank?”

The guards had been proud of themselves right up to the moment Five came storming outside.

He knew the guards had been itching to use that stupid thing ever since he’d purchased it last summer, and they’d tested it out up in the hills.

They wanted Five to buy another one for his pickup. You know, just in case.

“We’re sorry, Ramiro. They weren’t going away.”

“It’s your job to make them go away!”

“They were the stubborn type. They were going to cause trouble for us.”

“And look at this freaking mess! If someone drives by right now—”

But then Five collected himself and remembered that these weren’t hired guns. These were his brothers; they went way back. They could be knuckleheads, but when the knuckleheads were your loyal friends, you forgave them. Always, without question.

“Okay. Fine. Matteo, go find their car and bring it back here. Ernie, put them in the trunk. Make it all disappear. And get someone to spray the blood off the street. It looks like you were slaughtering cattle out here.”

Ernie couldn’t resist. “No cattle, Ramiro. Pigs. ”

Five didn’t want to smile in front of them, but after he turned his back, he couldn’t resist. Pigs. That was funny.

And ultimately, he knew it didn’t matter. This was no big deal. Cops died all the time in Tijuana.

But he also had his guests to worry about. Surely they’d heard the gunfire. This would fill them with either dread (not a bad thing) or hope (not ideal).

Five moved swiftly down the hall, removed the twin padlocks from the door, made his way down the stairs, and used another set of keys on the triple dead bolts. Inside this room, his guests were still zip-tied to different parts of the bed.

“Were those fireworks?” Cassandra Bart said, playing the part of the naive and terrified last remaining girl in a horror movie.

“Those were not fireworks,” Five said, also playing a part. He acted grim, as if he’d received some dire news.

“The cavalry is here, isn’t it,” Tyler said with a wide grin that looked comical beneath his badly broken nose. “You have no idea who you are messing with.”

Now it was Five’s turn to smile. “No, that wasn’t the cavalry. No one has any idea where you are.”

Oh, the looks on their faces. So much fun to watch the privileged experience true disappointment.

And this was much worse than not scoring a reservation at a trendy Beverly Hills restaurant or being denied membership at an exclusive VIP-only social club because their assistants had missed the deadline to file the paperwork.

“And from what I hear,” Five continued, staring directly at Tyler Schraeder, “the payment for you is not quite working out. I doubt you’ll be seeing the sun again.”

He turned to the door, then paused and gave Cass a wink over his shoulder.

“But you, my lovely… I like your chances.”

As Five bolted the door again, muffling Tyler’s cries of rage, he wondered about his future. This was too much fun. Maybe he should be an actor.