“Got it,” he verifies. “I’ll get a plainclothes officer out there. The two of you can enter together in case anything goes down.”
“Hurry.”
We disconnect, and I shoot a quick text to Rainey, filling her in on where I am and my next moves.
Her reply is equally quick.Be on guard. Natasha has hired muscle since I was there.
I let her know I’m waiting on a plainclothes officer and ask her to let Hana and Blake know. The moment I hit send, the noise of footsteps in the alley snaps me to attention. Falling back, I turn so it appears I’m taking a leak behind a dumpster.
The benefit of it being my first time here is none of the regulars would recognize me. The man approaching now is short and round with dark hair and heavy features. He reminds me of one of the cast members from that old TV showThe Sopranos.
“Ay,” he snaps at me. “This ain’t no toilet.”
“Ah, no. That’s not what’s happening.” I look down, slurring my words and not making eye contact.
If he’s the undercover cop, he’ll threaten to arrest me. If not, I’ve got a gun in the back of my jeans.
“You’re not supposed to be here. This is a private entrance, now beat it!” The guy growls, waving his hand like he’s shooing a dog, and I take a few steps towards the street, making a mental note of his face.
He yells louder, “Quit looking at me like that!”
I hold up both hands like he has a gun on me. “Be cool, man. I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“Wait on the street.”
Nodding, I lower my hands and act like I’m headed to the top of the alley. As soon as he turns his back, however, I’m on him. Jumping on his back, I secure his thick neck in the bend of my elbow. It’s a classic sleeper hold, but he’s a fighter.
“Fuck you,” he grunts, ramming his elbow hard into my solar plexus.
“Oof,” I grunt, but I tighten my grip.
He twists his body as if he’ll throw me off him, but I’ve got probably fifteen years and more cardio on him. I’m not going anywhere.
“Get off…” He growls, turning to slam my back against the brick wall, but his energy is failing.
“Don’t fight,” I snap through gritted teeth as we go down to one knee.
His hands fumble in his jacket, and I turn him fast, pinning his arm to the ground with our bodies. “Oh, no you don’t.”
He’s taking longer than I expect, and I’ve got to keep his hand away from the gun I’m sure is under his arm.
We’re far enough down the alley that we shouldn’t attract attention. Still, the sound of footsteps running up behind me makes my heart beat faster. If it’s muscle from Gibson’s, I’m screwed.
“Dirk Winston?” A sharp male voice calls to me.
“Yeah.” Lucky for me, it’s my backup. “Get his gun.”
I fall back against the wall, still holding the big guy around the neck, and a slim man with light brown hair in a khaki suit reaches in and removes a beretta.
“Got it.”
“That might not be all he’s carrying.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s reaching for anything now.”
The big body collapses, and I release him with a groan, rubbing my shoulder as I stretch out my side. He got a good hit in when I first grabbed him. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”
“I’m Jack Price. Louie said I should meet you here.” He holds out a hand, and I shake it briefly. “I have to say, I thought we were going inside the club. I’m not sure what’s happening right now.”