Page 100 of Long Way Down

Pongo snorted. “Swiss?”

“Nah. But I’ve taken the Swiss position in the war between countries.”

“It’s not that neutral to carry out hits.”

Kat’s face was reddening at an alarming rate, lips pressed tight together.

Prince tilted his head. “Neutrality and innocence aren’t the same thing, Pongo.” The way he said Pongo’s name lent the moniker something like dignity. “I never took sides, but it doesn’t mean I won’t use those sides, from time to time.”

“Lemme guess. And now you want to use us?”

“No.” He parted his hands so he could motion to the chair in front of Pongo, inviting him to sit. One of his rings, Pongo saw, bore a heavy seal, like an old-fashioned signet ring, set with a rampant lion. Ostentatious and ridiculous, but he pulled it off. “Please take a seat.”

Pongo had the sense that he was allowed to refuse; thought that, if he turned and walked out, he could do so unmolested. Nothing save the secretly swanky interior of this place had been revealed to him, and they wouldn’t hold him against his will. There were no thick-necked guards present, no gun lying on the desk ready to point at him. That, and curiosity, were the reasons he plopped down in the chair and hooked one ankle up onto his knee.

“Alright.” He spread his hands. “I’m listening.”

Prince nodded, then cast a glance over his shoulder at Kat, who moved off silently. A moment later, Pongo heard the rattle of ice cubes in glasses over at the wet bar. Prince lowered his hands so his forearms rested on the edge of the desk, gaze settling on Pongo once more. “Jack Waverly and his people were the worst-kept secret in the underground for more than a decade. At least, in the major cities, where they operated. The public had no idea what was going on, and a little birdie tells me the Dogs didn’t either, until that whole business in Amarillo kicked things off?” He lifted his brows in silent question, lines stacking up like wood grain on his forehead.

Pongo gave a reluctant head shake. “We keep our heads down. We don’t wanna mess with the natural order, or whatever.”

His brows lifted a fraction higher, still. “Maybe that used to be the case, when the club first got started, but that’s changed the last few years. Ghost Teague is ambitious – hell, I didn’t used to know the man’s name. I didn’t used to know every city where you have a chapter. But things have shifted; the Dogs are on the map in a way they didn’t use to be. You guys used to be small-time, like us.”

Pongo wrinkled his nose.

“Make all the faces you want, but it’s true. Now you’re playing on a much bigger field. Every organization based in this city” – he drew a circle on his blotter with a ringed forefinger – “was content to feed off Waverly’s scraps. Everyone wanted in his good books and no one dared go against him, not the mob, not the bratva, not the yakuza. He offered girls, yeah, but power and influence, too. An avenue into more legitimate means of business. Sakishima’s people own a big share in a movie studio, now. The bratva are running weapons into Canada – everything from brand new AKs to old Soviet shit. Waverly greased palms and opened doors and helped all of that happen.

“And then here came the Lean Dogs, and went and killed him and all his top generals.” His look wasn’t accusing, but it begged Pongo to comprehend the gravity of the situation. “That’s a big fucking deal.”

“Yeah. I know that.” He also knew, and had just had confirmed for him now with that little spiel, that the Dogs held all the cards in this situation. He gripped the arms of his chair and leaned forward, as if to stand. “Now, if you’re done with the civics lecture, Professor–”

A glass thumped down onto a coaster in front of him, a cut-crystal tumbler full of bourbon he recognized by scent; the good shit.

“Sit down,” Kat said, glaring at him as he moved around the desk to set down his boss’s drink.

Pongo resettled and reached for his glass, but said, “What if I don’t want to?”

“You’re already here, idiot. What else do you have to do?”

Pongo opened his mouth to retort, and Prince beat him to it.

“Katsuya. Don’t bait the boy. He’s our guest.”

Kat made a face, but subsided into his previous slot behind the man.

Pongo grinned. “Yeah,Katsuya. Don’t bait me.”

Prince flashed him a sudden, reproachful look that, he was ashamed to admit, chilled him to the bone. Thoseeyes, man. “Don’t you bait him, either. This is a business meeting.”

Pongo slurped the top off his drink and managed to keep his eye roll in check. “Then how about wegetto that business. This is nothing but build-up so far, dude.”

One of those fathomless, wolfish eyes twitched at the corner in response todude. He kept his composure, though. “ThebusinessI’m proposing is one that would be mutually beneficial.”

“You’re not gonna get full Dogs backing. I can tell you that right now.”

“That’s not what I’m proposing. In case you didn’t realize it, the Lean Dogs have kicked an ant hill. War hasn’t popped off yet, but it’s going to. Right now, everyone’s trying to wrap their heads around the loss of Waverly. Coming to grips with the power the Dogs have. Even Waverly’s overseas partners met an ugly end, and that takes reach – a reach the underground of New York didn’t know you possessed. When it happens, it’s going to be a war that touches everyone, neutrality be damned.”

“Choosing sides, finally?”