Page 33 of Run

Joe gave Megan a nod, and she dropped her gun. A second later, Dimitri’s right hook connected with the guy’s jaw, sending him back into the booth. With quick hands, Dimitri patted the guy down and relieved him of his phone, money, weapon, and several small bags of white.

Leaning in to whisper in the dealer’s ear, Joe said, “Spread the word. This turf ain’t yours any longer. You’re out of business as of now.” As English accents went, it wasn’t the best, which is why he’d whispered. It was easier to hide his American accent that way.

The guy’s eyes blazed. “You got no fucking idea who you’re dealing with. You’re dead. The three of you. Dead men walking. Tommy James is gonna skin you alive for this.”

“Excuse me.” Megan rose from where she’d crouched, out of the gangster’s line of sight, to tape a cell phone to the underside of the table. She frowned at the dealer while pointing to her chest. “See these? They’re tits. Which means it’s deadpeoplewalking, you sexist pig.”

“Finish it,” Joe ordered, and Dimitri let out a stream of Russian before knocking the guy out.

“Really hoping that guy doesn’t speak Russian,” Dimitri said. “Otherwise, they’ll think the Russians hit them instead of the Albanians.”

Megan scoffed. “I don’t think you need to worry. He could barely speak English.”

As one, Delta Team walked through the room and out the side door. As they headed along the street toward their car, the lights flickered back on.

“You couldn’t stop yourself from pointing out you weren’t a guy, could you?” Dimitri shook his head at his wife.

“What?” Megan held up her hands. “It was offensive. Like only a guy could take him down.” She snorted.

“Get in the car, you two,” Joe said.

As soon as Dimitri was behind the wheel, Joe dialed Elle. “You got the signal?”

“Yep. The cell phone you placed is on speaker, and we’re getting every word. Your guy is pissed and looking for someone to blame.”

“Shouldn’t take him too long to find a target.” Dimitri was talking about the phone he’d “accidentally” dropped under the bench seat for easy discovery. It was broken and couldn’t be hacked for information—not that there was any on it. What it did have, though, was a lock-screen photo of two MC20 gang members.

“Heading to the next target,” Joe said. “Delta Team out.”

“Is this drug dealer in a strip club too?” Megan asked. “Because I find that offensive.”

“If I remember rightly, you made me watch that stripper movie about ten times because you wanted to be Jennifer Lopez,” Dimitri pointed out.

“I wasn’t talking about the stripping. I was talking about these criminals’ sheer lack of imagination. It’s pathetic.”

Joe and Dimitri shared a grin as they drove on to their next target.

14

James Family Home

North London

“Iheard,” Marcus said as he prowled into his father’s study.

It was 4 a.m., and Marcus had pulled on jeans and a T-shirt when the call came through. Tommy, meanwhile, had taken the time to get dressed in one of his many three-piece suits.

“They’ve declared war,” Tommy raged. “Onme. Doesn’t the James name mean anything anymore? Who the hell do they think they are? I’m Tommy Fucking James. I’ve ruled this city since before they were born, and I deserve some fucking respect.” He swiped a hand across the credenza behind his desk, sending photos and memorabilia crashing to the floor. “Little shits ain’t got no respect. It’s time we taught them some.”

Marcus stood on the other side of the desk, his arms folded and his eyes on his father rather than the mess he’d wrought. “What we need is to have a sit-down with them before this situation gets out of hand.”

“It’s already out of hand,” Tommy roared, making his bodyguard poke his head into the room to check on them. “They hit three locations tonight.Three.There once was a time when people would have been too scared to tangle with even one, but no, they hit three. Where’s the respect?” He pointed at his chest. “I earned my place in this business. Worked my way up by doing the hard graft. Not like these little shits, thinking respect is something you get on the internet.”

“Let me set up a meeting, see if we sort this out like gentlemen first.”

“Gentlemen?” Tommy’s rage narrowed in on Marcus as he made his way around the desk. Nothing made Tommy feel better than inflicting pain, and who better to take the brunt than his son.

Marcus knew the drill. Tommy needed an outlet. And it wasn’t going to be him. Reaching behind him, he curled his hand around the grip of the gun tucked into the back of his jeans. He was sure his eyes were just as cold as Tommy’s when he spoke. “Take a deep breath before you make me put a bullet in your head.”