Free Black 01 - Black Rain by Vincent Alexandria Page A

out the Smith and Wesson .44 magnum pistol that Dread keeps in a secret compartment behind the backseat armrest and grabs two bullet clips. Checking the clip in the gun to make sure it is full, she slaps it into the handle and then pulls the slide back, loading a bullet into the chamber.
    Chase reaches up and turns off the dome light, then pushes the car door ajar, just in case something goes down. She tunes back in on the conversation between Dread and O’Brian, but remains on high alert, survey-ing the landscape for any intruders.
    Dread is smiling while grabbing the back of his neck.
    Always a bad sign. He only does this when stressed.
    “So, O’Brian, I haven’t taken good care of you for handling my Iowa accounts?”
    “Yes, Dread, you have. Very well. I have your money right here.”
    O’Brian opens his uniform shirt, which reveals his bulletproof vest. He pulls three stacks of cash from underneath it and hands it to Dread. Dread looks at Adam, another Nebraska police officer, who handles the books for his organization. Adam, a white guy with blond hair and a medium muscular build who looks a little like Ben Affleck, takes the money, fingers through it quickly and shakes his head. Then he steps back with the other three men, Clark, Christopher and Damon, who have all traveled together in the silver SUV that is parked off to the side.

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    Black Rain
    Dread claps his hands and laughs. “It is getting cold out here, is it not?”
    “It’s been colder,” O’Brian answers as he buttons his shirt. His hands are shaking.
    “Yes, colder. Cold can be an anomaly. Like when life is escaping your body, they say you feel cold all over.”
    Dread looks O’Brian in the eyes. “Have you heard that?”
    “No, I’m not much interested in dying or what happens to dead people,” O’Brian replies as he looks around at Dread’s men, who have formed a wide circle encompassing him. O’Brian’s eyes dart between the men as if he’s looking for an escape route. His eyes bulge with fear.
    “No? Well, it seems you would be after thinking that you could steal from me, you fucking maggot.”
    Dread snaps.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve always paid you on time,” O’Brian responds, taking a step backward.
    Dread takes a step forward.
    “No, my friend. To our calculations, you are about…how much, Adam?” Dread looks over at his accountant.
    “Fifty thousand to this point!” Adam answers.
    “Fifty-thousand behind,” Dread echoes as he turns back to the Sioux City, Iowa, policeman.
    O’Brian points up at the moon. “Well, I guess all good things come to an end, and it looks like a good night for dying,” he says with a smirk.
    This time Chase knows she hears something moving through the tall grass. She ducks down in the seat as several men pass the vehicle and surround Dread and his Vincent Alexandria
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    men with their rifles and shotguns drawn before Dread’s guys reach for their weapons.
    Chase weighs her options. Drive off and leave Dread and his men at the fate of the redneck countrymen? But, if Dread were to make it out of the situation alive… She also thinks of the good old boys shooting out her tires, and can only imagine what they would do to her before killing her. She plays the odds and decides to stick around and help out Dread and his men.
    “Well, isn’t this cozy?” O’Brian says. “You think I’m some kind of fool? Why should I let some fucking Cuban make all the money? I see it like this: I run this territory and get twenty percent off the top, or I get it all. There’s no negotiation, so you can just jump your Cuban ass back in your SUV and get your punk asses out of my town. I’ll mail you your money from here on out. You got a problem with that, Cubie?” O’Brian asks with his gun pointed at Dread’s scrotum.
    Dread smirks as out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chase sneaking up on one of O’Brian’s men, gun aimed at his head. “Actually, yes. I do have