Free Soft Target by Stephen Leather

around here anyway.'
    The two men looked at each other, then back at Rose,
    whose smile widened. 'I'm not trying to pull a fast one on you,' he added. 'I just want us to know where we all stand.
    Let's see what you've got.'
    The boxer slid his right hand out of his pocket. An automatic,
    probably a Colt. The other pulled back his coat: a Kalashnikov assault rifle with a folding stock hung from a nylon sling.
    'Nice,' said Rose. The file had mentioned the gang's links to former paramilitaries so the Kalashnikov wasn't a surprise.
    'So, if the shit does hit the proverbial, it's going to get very noisy and very messy. I'm just here to sell the gear and get back over the water. It's good stuff, and it's pure as the driven, so you're getting a hell of a good deal.'
    'Youse could be the cops,' said the boxer.
    'I could be, but my accent alone should let you know that I'm not working for the Garda. And the fact that I'm cradling a MAC 10 in my hot little hands sort of puts paid to any undercover police operation, doesn't it?'
    The boxer nodded slowly. 'So now what do we do?'
    'I show you the gear. You show me the money. When we're both happy, we exchange and go our separate ways.'
    'Where is it?'
    'The boot. Where's the money?'
    'Back seat.'
    'Okay. Why don't you get into the seat here next to me while your mate with the heavy artillery checks the gear?'
    'Youse wouldn't have an itchy trigger finger, would you?'
    'I know what I'm doing,' said Rose.
    The boxer sighed, opened the passenger door and climbed in. He had his gun in his lap, the barrel pointing at the dashboard.
    Rose popped open the boot and watched in his rearview mirror as the guy with the Kalashnikov went to the back of the car.
    'Youse came alone?' mused the boxer.
    'I just want to sell the merchandise,' said Rose. 'I don't want to start a gang war. I thought if I turned up mob handed you'd get jumpy and that's the last thing we need.'
    'Where did youse get it from?'
    Rose tapped the side of his nose with a forefinger. 'Need to know,' he said.
    The guy with the Kalashnikov bent down and disappeared from Rose's view. Rose was relaxed, but he kept his finger on the trigger.
    'Youse look like a cop.'
    'Yeah, everyone says that.'
    'Except you're as nervous as a cat in a kennel right now,
    which you wouldn't be if youse had backup.'
    'I've no back-up. Trust me on that. But I do have a gun that can fire eleven hundred bullets a second so tell your mate to get a move on, will you?'
    The boxer gave him a curt nod and shouted something in Gaelic to his colleague.
    'English,' said Rose. 'If you don't mind.'
    'How does it look, Kieran?' shouted the boxer.
    Rose took his eyes off the rear-view mirror and checked out the Mercedes. The driver had his hands on the steering wheel. The front passenger was sitting stony-faced, chewing gum.
    'Looks good,' said Kieran. He walked to the passenger side of Rose's car. 'Ten kilos. Good stuff. The man walks the walk.'
    'So far so good,' said the boxer. 'Now, how do youse want to play it?'
    'You and I walk over to your car and check the money.
    Kieran stays in front of us and keeps his hands away from the Kalashnikov.'
    The boxer climbed slowly out of the car. Rose did the same, sliding the MAC 10 under his jacket as he closed the door. Kieran walked to the Mercedes, his long coat flapping behind him. Rose accompanied the boxer, his finger still on the MAC 10 trigger. He scanned the windows of the flats overlooking the car park but no one was watching. Two plump teenage girls pushed prams away from the block entrance, smoking and swearing.
    They reached the Mercedes and Kieran pulled open the rear doors. There were two black Adidas gym bags on the back seat. He pulled them out and swung them on to the boot.
    'Watch the paintwork, will youse?' snarled the boxer.
    Kieran unzipped one of the bags and stepped to the side.
    He kept his hands free, a faint smile on his face. Rose peered 62 li inside the bag. It was full of bundles of fifty-euro