Ryan Lock 04.5: Lock & Load Read Online Free

toughest guys Lock had served with in the British Royal Military Police specialist close protection unit hadn't exactly been giants. The difference was that they didn't try to compensate for it with trick shoes.
       "Gone by eighteen hundred hours?" Lock prompted.
       "You got it."
     
    Lock left by one of the doors that fronted onto the highway. Outside, parked right in front of a tow away zone sign was a Nissan Altima with a long-haired white male in his early twenties sitting in the driver's seat, a camera in hand trained up the slope at the garden of the rehab center.
       Lock tapped the glass and thumbed a 'get the hell out of here' at the photographer. He took off with a squeal of rubber, and Lock walked north back up PCH to the Range Rover.
       He climbed in, more anxious about the situation than he had been before. Something in his gut told him that the conversation had gone far too smoothly. There had been something else that had set off alarm bells. Jason may have been chugging down a health shake but there had also been two lines of cocaine laid out on a mirror on the dining room table. If there was one thing more unpredictable than an egomaniac movie star it was a coked up egomaniac movie star who greeted visitors with a 45.
       As he drove back towards West Hollywood, he called Carrie to let her know that he had secured their deluxe beachside accommodation, but not to head over without him. Then he called Ty to give him an updated situation report.
       "You think he's going to be a good boy tomorrow?" Ty asked.
       "He'd better be," said Lock.

Six
    TY STOOD GUARD  outside one of the Chateau's twelve bungalows. Summer was the other side of the door, getting ready for the next day's press event with her publicist. Man, so far, he thought, he was loving this gig. For a start, the young actress had taken a shine to him. He could tell. It wasn't surprising either – her being surrounded by all those metrosexual movie stars all day, half of whom who probably batted for the other team. It was just a shame that she wasn't his type – too young, too skinny. Ty liked himself a woman with some meat on her bones. He only hoped she didn't make too much of a play for him. He'd let her down gently if it came to that. Wasn't anything worth worrying about anyhow, not when he had a real worry.
      It had turned out that there was a 'no firearms' rule on this gig. The LAPD were pretty strict about carry permits, either open or concealed, and Lock didn't want to fall foul of them, so for this job they would have to get by without a gun, which sucked. Ty always felt naked without his SIG Sauer.
       From nowhere, Ty caught the sweet smell of dope smoke on the air. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the aroma. Maybe he should just relax and enjoy the ride, he told himself.
       "Wake the hell up, asshole."
       His eyes snapped open to the sight of Lock glaring at him.
       "Just taking a moment. She's safe inside," said Ty.
       Lock glared at him. "Okay, I'm going to do a quick recon of the room they're using for the press interviews then I'm going to check that he's out of the Malibu house and pick up Carrie. Can I count on you to stay awake while I'm gone?"
       "I was resting my eyes. Anyway, what's this guy gonna do if he shows up?"
       "Well, he pulled a piece on me when I met him."
       Ty chewed this news over slowly. "Told you we needed to be armed."
       "Not gonna happen, Tyrone. But let's not just assume this is going to be a slam dunk. The guy's unpredictable and I don't like him."
       "No shit. You don't like anyone," Ty said.
       "Okay, I particularly don't like him," said Lock.
       Lock was always sweating stuff. "She's heading off to shoot another movie soon, and you said he was too. All we have to do is get her through tomorrow."
       "And tonight," said Lock.
       "Chill, brother. I'm on it." Ty held out his fist and they bumped.
       Two bikini-clad model types weaved