The Executioner: Arizona Ambush Read Online Free Page B

belief in miracles at age six, when his father stepped out for a quick beer and never came home, so Kaufman's absence had to be ascribed to either freakish coincidence or advance warning. Ever the realist, he opted for advance warning. And that meant a traitor.
    Not within Hinshaw's troops, he was reasonably sure of that. His men were loyal. Loyal to the project out of greed and, at another level, loyal to him out of mingled fear and respect.
    Hinshaw admired loyalty in his equals and demanded it from his subordinates. It was one of the qualities that marked the line between amateurs and pros, between a mob and a skilled team of operatives. It was essential to the maintenance of order.
    Order demanded that Hinshaw salvage the situation in Phoenix. Loyalty and skilled professionalism would make that salvation possible.
    Hinshaw began checking off the pluses and minuses of the current situation. Minuses first: Kaufman had slipped through their fingers, the broad — Kaufman's daughter — had managed to get away, too, and three of his men were stretched out in a refrigerated drawer downtown. That was 10 percent of his force out of action in the first skirmish, a skirmish that should not have occurred in the first place.
    On the plus side, their cop downtown seemed convinced that one man alone had pulled the morning hit. Hinshaw was inclined to think his team had overlooked one of Kaufman's housemen, allowing the guy to take them by surprise on the way out. Carelessness kills. Awaiting Hinshaw's next order were the other pluses: Angel Morales and Floyd Worthy, Hinshaw's oldest friends from "Nam, his personal "secret weapons." And backing them up, twenty-five of the meanest, ass-kickingest boys who ever pulled a rod in Tucson, his boys now, courtesy of Nick Bonelli.
    Hinshaw owed a lot to Bonelli, for all the trust and power and money — yeah, that counted, too — that the Tucson capo had supplied over the months. Nick Bonelli's goals and hopes were his goals now, his hopes, and by God, he couldn't bring himself to tell the old man that somebody had screwed up on phase one. He could still pull it out, and he damn well would. He owed that to Mr. Bonelli. And to himself.
    Hinshaw punched buttons on the desk intercom and growled a summons. The office door opened to admit two men. They nodded greetings and moved toward empty chairs. They lacked ramrod spines and the overall military carriage that marked Hinshaw, yet they moved with an identical grace and power, emitting lethal vibrations into the room.
    Pros, yeah. Men.
    Angel Morales. Small and lean, straight black hair framing finely chiseled Latin features, sensual lips curving slightly in a little smile which widened to a grin in the heat of combat. And Floyd Worthy. Tall, grim, black as the ace of spades, his restless hands ever moving, at peace only when holding one of the weapons that he loved.
    Hinshaw felt better already, stronger, more confident. They were a team all right, and together, Hinshaw knew, they could move mountains.
    Worthy opened the dialogue with his deep, drawling voice. "What's the word, my man?"
    "The word is that our boys were iced by one man. I take that to mean that Kaufman has no troops in the field — yet. If we move quick enough, we should be able to cut our losses and salvage the play."
    "Target Baker?" The question came from Morales.
    "Affirmative. We still need a hostage for our hole card. Floyd, I want you to take personal charge of this action, and be sure the boys understand that we need the pigeon alive. Cold meat won't get us the time of day."
    Worthy gave him an unemotional "Roger," the big ebony hands opening and clenching in slow rhythm.
    "Take a half-dozen men with you," Hinshaw continued. "The last team came up short." There was no trace of regret in his voice as he dismissed the deaths, merely a recognition of tactical error.
    "I can handle it," Worthy assured him, risking a narrow smile for the first time.
    "I have every confidence,"