Free Dark Forces by Stephen Leather Page B

no body, proof of death is always appreciated.’
    Marty blew a thick cloud of smoke at the night sky. ‘He was a bastard – he had it coming.’
    ‘No question,’ said Tommy. He flicked ash onto the ground. ‘Howard said you were keen to do more work for us.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘We don’t do that sort of thing often. Once in a blue moon.’
    Shepherd shrugged. ‘That’s OK. But I meant it in a wider context. You could get me more involved in the business.’
    ‘Why would you want that, though?’ asked Tommy, quietly. ‘You’re good at what you do. You’re a freelance so you can work as and when you want. Why tie yourself down to one crew?’
    ‘It’s the fact that I’m a freelance that worries me,’ said Shepherd. ‘A lot of the time I’m dealing with people I don’t know. Okay, jobs come in by word of mouth and a new client always has to be vouched for, but one day maybe I’ll get approached by a wrong ’un, someone trying to stitch me up.’
    ‘An undercover cop?’
    ‘It happens. So far I’ve been lucky, I’m below the radar, but then some smart arse began calling me the Hammer, and once you’ve got a nickname the cops start taking an interest.’ He took a short pull on his cigar and blew smoke. ‘Look, here’s the thing. You run a slick operation. No one fucks with you. The cops don’t bother because they know you’re untouchable, right?’
    Marty grinned. ‘Pretty much, yeah.’
    ‘I’m guessing that part of the reason is you have a few top cops in your pocket. The odd judge, maybe.’
    Marty’s grin widened. ‘We couldn’t possibly comment,’ he said.
    ‘And it’s none of my business, obviously,’ said Shepherd. ‘But my point is, I’d rather be inside the tent than outside. I’d prefer to be part of a team, that’s all. And you’re the best team around.’
    ‘No need to go blowing smoke up our arses, Terry,’ laughed Tommy, but there was an edge to the laughter that made it a casual threat.
    ‘You know what I mean, though,’ said Shepherd. ‘My money’s good, no question of that. But it’s erratic. And the more jobs I do, the more I’m putting myself at risk. If I’m part of a crew, especially a successful one like yours …’
    ‘I hear you, Terry,’ said Tommy. He looked at his brother. ‘What do you think, Marty?’
    ‘Give him a go. What have we got to lose?’
    Tommy turned back to Shepherd. He paused for a few seconds, staring at him with unblinking eyes. ‘We’ve got a bit of a problem on the Rock. Do you fancy flying over and sorting it out for us?’
    ‘Sure. What’s the story?’
    Another short pause, then just a hint of a nod. ‘I’ll have Howard run it by you. Let him know if you need any more people. He’ll sort it.’ He drew on his cigar as he studied Shepherd’s face. ‘You been to Gibraltar before?’
    Shepherd shook his head. ‘Spain. But never Gibraltar.’ That was a lie, but a necessary one. Shepherd had visited Gibraltar several times, but always in transit with the SAS on a Hercules, usually en route to Belize.
    Tommy nodded. ‘If you feel like a curry while you’re there, pop into Raj’s Curry House. That’s what it’s called, no shit. Ragged Staff Wharf. Best curries I’ve ever had. Place looks a bit run-down but you can’t beat the food.’
    Marty nodded in agreement.
    ‘Mind you, if you want to try some decent food, come out to Dubai.’
    ‘I might take you up on that,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘Gordon Ramsay’s new place is shit hot,’ said Tommy.
    ‘So you’re there for the food, not the lack of an extradition treaty?’ said Marty.
    Tommy punched his brother softly on the arm and laughed. ‘Bit of both, truth be told.’
    A roar went up inside and Tommy gestured at the hotel entrance. ‘Let’s get back inside,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t want to miss the fights.’
    Omar Hassan was sitting with his family in the large dining room. His mother insisted that the family ate together as often as