Without remorse - Tom Clancy [31]
'You must be hungry,' he said, stepping away from her, holding on to her hands.
She nodded. 'Starving.'
'That I can fix.' Kelly led her by the hand back to the bunker. Already he loved her touch. They met Sam and Sarah coming from the other side of the island after a morning's walk and stretch.
'How are our two lovebirds?' Sarah asked with a beaming smile, because she'd already seen the answer, watching from two hundred yards away.
'Hungry!' Pam replied.
'And we're getting a couple of screws today,' Kelly added with a wink.
'What?' Pam asked.
'Propellers,' Kelly explained. 'For Sam's boat.'
'Screws?'
'Sailor talk, trust me.' He grinned at her, and she wasn't sure if she could believe it or not.
'That took long enough,' Tony observed, sipping coffee from a paper cup.
'Where's mine?' Eddie demanded, irritable from lack of sleep.
'You told me to put the fucking heater outside, remember? Get your own.'
'You think I want all that smoke and shit in here? You can die from that monoxide shit,' Eddie Morello said irritably.
Tony was tired as well. Too tired to argue with this loudmouth. 'Okay, man, well, the coffeepot's outside. Cups are there too.'
Eddie grumbled and went outside. Неnrу, the third man, was bagging the product and kept out of the argument. It had actually worked out a little better than he'd planned. They'd even bought his story about Angelo, thus eliminating one potential partner and problem. There was at least three hundred thousand dollars' worth of finished drugs now being weighed and sealed in plastic bags for sale to dealers. Things hadn't gone quite as planned. The expected 'few hours' of work had lingered into an all-night marathon as the three had discovered that what they paid for others to do wasn't quite as easy as it looked. The three bottles of bourbon they'd brought along hadn't helped either. Still and all, over three hundred thousand dollars of profit from sixteen hours of work wasn't all that bad. And this was just the beginning. Tucker was just giving them a taste.
Eddie was still worried about the repercussions of Angelo's demise. But there was no turning back, not after the killing, and he'd been forced into backing Tony's play. He grimaced as he looked out of a vacant porthole towards an island north of what had once been a ship. Sunlight was reflecting off the windows, of what was probably a nice, large power cruiser. Wouldn't it be nice to get one of those? Eddie Morello liked to fish, and maybe he could take his kids out sometime. It would be a good cover activity, wouldn't it?
Or maybe crab, he told himself. After all, he knew what crabs ate. The thought evoked a quiet bark of a laugh, followed by a brief shudder. Was he safe, linked up with these men? They - he - had just killed Angelo Vorano, not twenty-four hours earlier. But Angelo wasn't part of the outfit, and Tony Piaggi was. He was their legitimacy, their pipeline to the street, and that made him safe - for a while. As long as Eddie stayed smart and alert.
'What room do you suppose this was?' Tucker asked Piaggi, just to make conversation.
'What do you mean?'
'When this was a ship, looks like it was a cabin or something,' he said, sealing the last envelope and placing it inside the beer cooler. 'I never thought about that.' Which was actually true.
'Captain's cabin, you think?' Tony wondered. It was something to pass the time, and he was thoroughly sick of what they'd done all night.
'Could be, I suppose. It's close to the bridge.' The man stood, stretching, wondering why it was that he had to do all the hard work. The answer came easily enough. Tony was a 'made' man. Eddie wanted to become one. He would