Chloe snorted on hearing him. ‘Any offspring aren’t going to be better looking than you, Bwana. Let’s not inflict such a crime on the world.’
Bear looked up from the second-generation 45 Colt single-action revolver in the cabinet in front of him. ‘Broker, surely we aren’t taking on 5Clubs with these?’
‘Those aren’t for sale,’ came a voice from a door at the far end of the room. Bunk Talbot — as tall as Broker, slim, wiry, with close-cropped brown hair, dressed in a brown T-shirt tucked into a pair of faded jeans — strode into the room and bumped fists with all of them and then hugged Broker.
He grinned at Broker. ‘Been a long time, bro. Good to see you’re still kicking.’ He cast an appraising eye on the rest of them and turned back to Broker.
‘These them? The black ops legends?’ The black ops world was a rarefied world, and there were rumors about ghosts — Clare’s team — who trod where other special ops agencies feared to go.
Bwana lifted his hands heavenward. ‘Hallelujah. Fame! Can the riches be far behind?’ He turned to Roger. ‘We need a money manager. And an agent.’
Roger studiously turned his back on him as Broker chuckled. ‘Dunno about famous, Bunk, but crazy as loons for sure.’ He introduced all of them to Bunk and then handed over the shopping list Roger had written.
Bunk studied the list and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Starting a war, Broker? Aren’t there enough already?’
‘Insurance, my friend, just insurance.’ Broker’s baritone rumbled through the glass.
‘What’s the story with these?’ Chloe asked Talbot, indicating the vintage and antique weapons.
‘I’ve always been interested in old weapons and had started collecting stuff from when I was in the Seals, from all over the world. The collection just built up, and then when I got into selling arms, it became a very neat cover for my business. I sell vintage weapons also — though these are my private collection — and that’s a perfect reason for all kinds of folks to meet me.’
He laughed sardonically. ‘Hell, even the Latin Kings buy vintage weapons from me. They see those as instruments for investment. Of course that’s not the only arms they buy from me.’
He waved the list and disappeared back into the depths he had come from. He returned an hour later wheeling two large duffel bags, placed them in the center of the room, went to the entrance and shut it, and then opened the bags.
Roger and Bwana crouched over the bags and pulled the weapons out and started ticking them off the list. They had ordered several M41As carbines, MP5A3 submachine guns, Glock 19s, Beretta M9s and the ammunition to go along with them… these now lay silently gleaming, filling the room with the smell of new weapons and gun oil.
Bwana dived into one of the bags and whistled softly as he lifted his favorite weapon, the Barrett M107A1 .50 caliber sniper rifle. ‘Saved my ass many a time,’ he murmured and sighted the Leupold Mark 4 scopes. Roger laid out stun grenades, body armor, combat knives, medical kits, and encrypted wireless comms equipment along with the base receivers.
‘Used by the Secret Service,’ commented Talbot as he watched the two work swiftly and surely. Bear and Chloe joined the two crouching and began putting the equipment back into the bags.
Talbot looked at them for a few more moments and then nodded at Broker. ‘Privileged.’
Broker nodded back. He knew what Talbot meant. His guys were not just another elite force. They commanded the respect of even battle-hardened Special Forces operatives.
‘What do you know of 5Clubs?’ he asked Talbot as the others zipped the bags up and stood up.
‘Nasty, ruthless, professional, and my biggest customers,’ came the prompt reply.
‘Are they active here? In Newburgh?’
‘Nah. This town is for lesser gangs. 5Clubs runs New York City, large parts of New Jersey, and I heard they were looking to control the Mexican border.’
Something in Broker’s posture made him narrow his eyes. He remembered fragments of conversation between some of the 5Clubs gangbangers, and the tumblers in his mind clicked. He looked at Broker with a question in his eyes and got a smile in return.
‘You aim to wipe them out?’
‘Nope. We want a piece of information from them. A name.’ Broker grinned. ‘All this is in case they refuse to play ball.’
‘Do they know you guys yet? Have you commenced the game?’
Broker grinned wider. ‘They don’t know of us as this black ops team or such shit, but these guys have upset them a bit.’ He nodded in Roger and Bwana’s direction. ‘You caught the news about girls, women, rescued in Arizona?’
Talbot looked in their direction in silence and then snapped his fingers. ‘Fucking hell. You wiped out how many? Six? Seven?’
‘Eight,’ Chloe replied when Roger and Bwana remained silent.
Talbot shook his head in reluctant admiration and then sobered swiftly. ‘This name you want — it’s that important?’
‘Yup.’
‘Then get some more guys. I know enough operatives, good guys, who’d love to join you. The five of you ain’t nowhere near enough for a gang of that size and that kind.’
‘Nah, we’ll manage.’
Talbot fell silent, opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Then he blurted, ‘Broker, I hope that’s not ego speaking. This is not a run-of-the-mill gang of nasties. These guys are as professional as they come, with combat experience. Five of you against three hundred? Not enough.’
Chloe wiped her hands on a piece of linen she had in her rear pocket. ‘We’ve enough ego to know our strength, but you’re looking at this problem the same way everyone else will, and hopefully even the gang.’
She leaned against the long running counter. ‘We’re going to engage in guerrilla warfare, and our size is our strength. Secondly, just because they’ve seen action doesn’t mean jack. They have been out of combat for a long while, and you should know what the lack of training does to an elite soldier’s skills. Why, Bunk, you’ve seen combat. Do you think your skills today are still as good as they were back then? We train with the Seals, Delta, the Marines, Rangers, the Special Ops guys, all manners of black ops folks, and the Mossad’s baddest guys when we’re in between assignments. We know exactly how good we are and how bad they are.’
She didn’t wait for him to reply. ‘You said they’re professionals. If they’re as professional as everyone makes them out to be, they’ll come to the table. And talk. Once they’ve worked out their cost-benefit-risk-loss analysis.’
Talbot looked at her in the growing silence, and a small smile tugged his lips. ‘Why aren’t you running a fancy corporation instead of whiling away with these bums?’
She chuckled. ‘I run these bums — more interesting.’
Broker protested. ‘Hey, I thought I was boss-man!’
She winked at Talbot. ‘See what I mean? Such delusional people need someone like me.’
‘Damned right,’ Bear muttered and lifted his hands in apology when Broker mock-glared at him. Broker turned back to Talbot.
‘You could do us a favor. Spread the word that we’re after their hides.’
‘Hooah. I know how you guys play that game now,’ replied Talbot.
Roger and Bwana shouldered the large gun bags with effortless ease and headed to the door. Bwana looked at Chloe as he was passing her. ‘I get to do the heavy lifting like always?’
‘You’re the only one we can rely on, Bwana,’ Chloe replied sweetly.
Bwana straightened, squared his shoulders, puffed his chest out, and marched out, their laughter following him.
They walked back to Broker’s Range Rover, the hoods in the street bunched together loosely, following them with their hard stares and contemptuous looks. Bwana looked back at the hoods through the window. ‘Their mammas taught them one thing at least.’