Page 32 of Run

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DELTA TEAM

TARGET: James Syndicate drug dealer

Big Ben’s Strip Bar

North London

Dressed from head to toe in black, Joe, Dimitri, and Megan wore tactical vests containing everything they needed for their mission. Well, everything David could rustle up from his contact, or they could source at a local store. Unlike the other teams, their mission was to get in and out without attracting too much attention. They wanted the James Family to wonder who’d attacked them—until the other two gangs retaliated for the hits on them. Or until the following night, when Benson Security would go out pretending to be the Albanians and strike at the other gangs. But for Delta Team’s mission, it was all about stealth.

“Ready?” Joe asked his team.

Megan nodded. “I’m beyond disgusted that they’re selling drugs out of a strip club. It’s such a cliché. You see that guy?” She pointed at the image on her phone. “He’s lounging in the corner booth, in his cheap suit, holding court like he’s a Mafia don instead of some two-bob drug dealer.”

“It’s two-bit,” Dimitri corrected.

“This is England. It’s bob.” Megan was still staring at the live feed from the club’s security cameras, which they’d tapped into courtesy of their pet hacker.

They were sitting in their car, up the street from the strip club, waiting for confirmation it was time to go in.

“You ready, Elle?” Joe asked into his phone, which was on speaker.

“One more minute.” He could hear her typing furiously. “Power will only be out for about ten minutes at most before the company finds the problem and fixes it. It’s the best I can do without attracting too much attention.”

“Will the James Family figure out you’re behind the power cut?” It was always a worry when the enemy had a clear understanding of Elle’s skills.

“No. I’ve botched the whole thing. It looks like a monkey did the hack while wearing ski gloves and drinking martinis. There’s no way they’d know this was me. It’s amateur hour.”

While Joe and Dimitri chuckled at the visual image, Megan said, “Monkeys wouldn’t drink martinis. They’re more cocktail hour. Something with paper umbrellas.”

Dimitri shot Joe a grin, and he shook his head. He’d take Julia’s brand of crazy over Megan’s any day of the week.

“Okay, guys,” Elle said. “Lights going out in thirty seconds.”

Joe signaled for them to get out of the car and shut down the call with Elle. Without throat mics, the team was going in with no way of communicating covertly, other than hand gestures, and Megan hadn’t been trained in most of those. All they could do was follow the plan and rely on experience to get them through.

Sticking to the shadows, the three of them strolled up the street toward the strip club. No one gave them a second glance. It wasn’t the kind of area where people went out of their way to notice strangers. They were nearly at the door when the streetlights cut, and the neon signs blinked out.

With black beanies pulled down over their foreheads and guns in hand, they slipped through the side door of the club. As expected, people were using the flashlights on their phones to see what was happening. Beams of light criss-crossed the room, illuminating it more than enough for Joe’s team to see where they were going but also making it easier for them to blend with the crowd.

Their voices raised in confusion, people milled around as though they weren’t sure whether to head for the exits or wait where they were. It was good cover, but Joe wanted chaos.

He nudged Megan, who shouted, “Stop groping me! Get your hands off me! Help!”

“Hands off the talent,” a male voice roared.

Lights swung toward the stage, where strippers ran for the back rooms, and bouncers ran toward the clientele.

Perfect.

Someone threw a punch. Someone else cursed loudly. A woman screamed. And then it turned into a massive free-for-all as drunken men threw themselves into the fight.

Ignoring all of it, Joe and his team made their way to the booth in the back corner of the room, where the dealer and his two backup men were in the process of clearing out. Megan walked straight up to the suit-wearing dealer and pressed her gun to his forehead.

“Give me a reason to pull the trigger,” she said with a cheery smile.

The bodyguards rushed forward, but they were no match for Dimitri and Joe. Two choke holds and a few seconds later, both men were on the floor. Delta Team patted them down, confiscating everything they could find. Meanwhile, the drug dealer stared at Megan with a tough attitude that fooled no one. That man absolutely wanted to pee his pants.