Free Black Rust by Bobby Adair Page B

I’d need to take them both out.  As for the Bully Boys?  I could harvest them last.  They wouldn’t understand quickly enough what was happening to take any action.  Besides, they were trained for taking orders.  They weren’t any good at deciding on their own.  At least that was the rumor.
    At this range, where my targets were standing, pale faces against a dark background, all stationary, I wouldn’t miss.
    But three dead Regulators in front of my house, with the high likelihood a drone of some sort was up above getting the whole thing on video, it wouldn’t be a work camp for me if I got caught, it would be a death sentence.
    And that made me miss Mexico a little bit.  It was nice not having a government around with its overbearing rules about when I could and couldn’t kill somebody.
    The Regulators were looking at one another, and their lips were moving.  They were conferring in hushed voices.
    Run out the back?
    No.  I was a gambler.  I already had chips on the table, and I knew what some of the cards were. 
    Without a doubt, Lutz had told them I lived in the apartment over the garage, at the far end of the mansion.  The guy with my black case in his hand, no doubt was thinking he had something valuable.  He wouldn’t risk coming into the house after me.  He had his payday already.  The Bully Boys?  They were wild cards.
    Two of the Regulators started toward the house with their Bully Boys on their heels.

Chapter 17
    Alone now with one Regulator, Lutz figured it was time to push back.  “Let me see the warrant.”
    The Regulator looked at the black case, hefting it, jostling the contents.  “What’s in it?”
    “None of your business,” Lutz snapped, knowing from the weight of the case it had to be filled with every dollar Christian had ever earned.  “Let me see the warrant.”
    Holding his gun on Lutz, the Regulator bent at the knees and laid the case on the curb in front of Lutz.  He straightened up and took a step back.  “Open the case.”
    Lutz looked down at the worn black box.  “It’s locked.”
    “You have a key for the lock,” the guy insisted.
    “No.  I don’t.”
    The guy looked up and scanned the sky.  “No drones.”  He looked back down at Lutz with a mean smile and said, “None on the way.  Don’t need drone evidence to haul in criminals.”
    Lutz understood the threat.  No drone overhead meant no proof.  The guy could tell the police anything.  Or, he could dump Lutz’s body in the river and not spend another worry on it.  Lutz nudged the case with his foot, and he looked at the lock.  It wouldn’t be hard to open.  But it wasn’t the lock that worried him, it was Christian’s wrath.  Lutz looked up and scanned the sky.  “You can’t always hear them, you know.  They don’t always have those little lights on them.”
    The Regulator glanced up.
    Lutz decided he’d rather take the chance with the Regulator than with Christian.  He kicked the case off the curb.  It landed in the road at the Regulator’s feet.  “I’m not opening it.  If you open it, then you’re a thief.  If you take it, same thing.”
    The Regulator knelt down again and lifted the handle, checking the case’s weight.  “Why’d you come here for this?”
    “Where’s your warrant?”
    The guy ran his hand across the case.  “Doesn’t look very sturdy.”  He rapped on the side with his knuckle.  “It’s made of wood, I think.”  He stood back up.  “Where’s Black?”
    “I told you I haven’t seen him in days.”
    “You tell me where he is, and I’ll cut you in.”  The Regulator tried to make it sound sincere.
    “There are already three of you.  What do I get, a quarter share?  No thanks.”
    “All you have to do is tell me where he is.  We do all the work.  A quarter share is fair.”
    Lutz thought it over.  It was tempting, but when he looked at the other Regulators, he saw men just like himself, and he knew a man like him would