Paradise Burns Read Online Free Page B

up.
    I kept a reasonable distance behind
them, and followed them round the corner to where Jackson’s limousine was
parked. The car was beautiful and very high end. It was a stretch, with a personalized
license plate. I cast an approving, well-trained eye over it as I memorized the
number. It was definitely armored, with bullet-proof, tinted windows and
run-flat tires. This was a serious vehicle, and it immediately became apparent
that taking this guy out isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. I took a
couple of pictures on my phone and sent them to Josh, then hung back as Jackson
and his leather-clad protector approached the car. I was leaning against one of
the small trees that lined the road on both sides, pretending to be on the
phone as I casually glanced over at them.
    Jackson ducked into the car first, then
the woman put one foot in the car and before she ducked down and in herself,
she looked all around the street in every direction, including upwards, which I
noted. She had a level of professionalism you don’t find in your typical
bodyguards. Not many people would think to look up and check for snipers. I was
becoming increasingly concerned with her presence in this equation.
    She looked in my direction. With her
glasses on I couldn’t see her eyes, but I knew she hadn’t made me. I’m
practically invisible when I want to be, and there’s no way I’d be spotted on a
standard surveillance run like this. But even so, her thoroughness was going to
be an issue.
    She finally got in the limo, and it sped
off up the street, turning left and out of sight at the first set of lights it
reached.
    I turned and walked back the way I came,
heading for my hotel. My recon trip hadn’t quite gone how I’d expected. I now
had more questions than answers, and this straightforward job was a lot more
complicated than it had been this morning. And I had a nagging feeling it wasn’t
about to get any easier.
     
    I went back to my hotel room and sat on
the edge of the bed, relishing the air conditioning after a couple of hours
outside.
    It was a standard size, filled with
standard stuff. The window overlooked the parking lot, which was almost empty
save for one silver, four door sedan. There was a flat-screen TV mounted on one
wall. It was above a table that had a lamp on it. It was facing the double bed,
which was unusually comfortable, given the price of the room. The bathroom had
a shower stall, a toilet and a hand basin. It wasn’t fancy, but it’d certainly
do for a couple of days while I conduct my business.
    I’m not cheap or anything. I have more
money than I know what to do with - I’m just not one for all that luxurious,
five-star, A-list crap. I’m more than happy in a generic, anonymous, no-frills motel.
    Like this one.
    I’d fired up my laptop and was reviewing
all the information Josh had sent me on Pellaggio, Jackson and our mystery
woman.
    Josh Winters is a genius. Sure, we
insult each other non-stop whenever we talk, but that’s just to get us both
through the day. When it all comes down to it, the guy is a legend in so many
different ways, I’ve lost count. The things he can do with a computer are astounding.
I don’t understand half of what he says or does. But he gets results, every
time. I need information, Josh can get it. I need a car or a plane or a gun,
Josh can arrange it. I need fake documents, Josh gets them to me.
    My recon trip earlier had set my spider
sense tingling. Whenever there is doubt, there is no doubt - that was the first
thing they taught me. Trust your gut, and never pull the trigger until you’re satisfied.
Some people prefer not to know anything - they just turn up, shoot and disappear
with their money. Me? I’m an information junkie. I have to know everything
about everything. If you ask a shrink, they’ll probably say I have control
issues that need to be addressed or something. But personally, when it comes to
this game, I simply want to be the smartest guy playing. As