Lair of Killers Read Online Free PDF

live for to find out, but that might be enough. It’s spinning around in that brain of yours.
    “I might put you down like a dog, but you want to live to know how I found you. To know why I called off the other assassin teams. That’s right, son. That’s finished. You survived the first salvo, and now you got a chance to work for me again. I haven’t made up my mind if I let you live much longer. Depends on what you say now.”
    He hefted the crossbow again. “But I know this. You ever cross me again, I won’t hesitate in ending your ass, faster than you can blink. I’ll never give you another chance like this again. You and me go way back, there’s a bond we share. Call me old-fashioned, but that means something to me.”
    Jerrod smirked. “Papa Zandor, huh? Always lookin’ out for the little kiddies.”
    “Yeah, that’s right, you little shit. Jerry, I can still use you. You and your boys are the best at what you do. We can take this town, man! I need you and your toughs. Sure, I played around with them a bit, that’s life, but now we gotta move forward, Jerrod. You in?”
    Jerrod answered him.
     
    * * * * *
     
    Spending time in Melvin Crocker’s office was not one of Becket’s favorite things to do. At the moment it was necessary. His direct subordinate was hard at work writing at his desk. His gray hair, still with bits of its former black, was frizzled and stuck out at odd angles as if he had been struck by lightning.
    It looked like the old man slept here, like Muldor did in his office. The old guard, like that one that worked for the thieves. They survived on when younger men faded away. It was uncanny. They holed away in the wealthy quarter like fire drakes, piling away their gold. Becket cleared his throat. “Master Crocker. I need your signature.”
    “Eh? What’s this now?”
    “Here.” Becket plopped a clipboard with a stack of papers attached on top of Crocker’s cluttered desk. “This is a work order increasing the number of hired security here at the Western Docks. I need you to sign off on it.”
    “Hmmm? What’s this?” He glanced over it. “Why do we need extra security, Master Becket?”
    Becket heaved a mental sigh. Stubborn old bastard. “Come off it. You know why. The thieves are going wild everywhere, not just at the marketplace. The merchants have demanded we step up our security measures, and they have every reason to do so. We have pulled a lot of men off the docks here to cover the market, and now we need replacements here. Should I draw you a picture so you understand better?”
    Crocker cracked a sly smiled on his wrinkled face. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Master Becket. Explain to me, in simple terms , who will pay for these replacements? Hmm? Are you pulling out your money bag and footing the bill?”
    “Fine, Crocker. I’ll sign it for you and get Guild approval anyway.”
    As he walked out of the man’s office, the old codger shifted at his desk. “Excuse me? No, you will not, sir! I will issue a counter order to stop you if you sign off without my permission!”
    Becket rolled his eyes. There wasn’t anyone to complain to. The Guild Master wouldn’t even take the time to read it, and if by some chance he did, he would have crumbled it up and tossed it away.
    Outside, dozens of workers and security men celebrated on the boardwalk, a remnant of them watching the fleet sail out earlier from the shipping yards to the north. The seven ships must have been quite a sight for the men, with the tall masts poking above the long, wooden docks, rows of canon bristling from the side, proud and ready for the upcoming battle.
    Becket had missed it. There was too much work to do.
    He weeded through the throng of people. They were all talking, some were drinking. Others smoked, and he felt like pulling rank and ordering them out of his way.
    “Master Becket!”
    Becket stopped and saw Pierre Johnson striding his way, the burly pier supervisor holding a