The mark came in. Malcolm Montgomery Watt took the message as he sat at his table, casually drinking his beer. Across the table, John Walker kept his head down as he pretended to work on the daily crossword puzzle. They often did this, the pair of gunslingers sitting in a darkened tavern as they waited for some mark to inform them of some major happening. As they did this, Marianne patrolled the joint, listening for anything of interest. A few of the patrons knew to look for them, as did a few who worked the tavern. Call it payment for protecting the Oakes and Cap.
“We got it,” Monty whispered as he pushed a slip of paper underneath his palm toward Walker. The old gunhand set his pen down next to Monty’s hand and took the slip of paper.
“Got any idea what a seven letter word fer ‘Slipped’ would be?” he asked casually as the Aussie smirked.
“Bananas,” Marianne suggested as she approached the table. Her voice lowered to a whisper as she took a seat. “What have we got?”
John Walker had taken the paper and laid it out on the crossword, making it so it still looked like he was working on the puzzle. “Recovery,” he simply said. “Needa pick somethin’ up from a shipment comin’ in. Guess there’s some gentleman needs somethin’ picked up an’ moved without the Don’s crew findin’ out ’bout it.”
“What’s the pay?” Monty said with interest. A retrieval operation would mean things might move smoothly. As good as they were, the idea of having to work some gun play wasn’t looked upon fondly. If need be, they’d do it, but jobs like this one were always looked upon as a better opportunity. So much better the chance of not being shot at.
“Good chuck o’ change,” Walker replied with a low whistle. “Sayin’ 250 upfront once we meet ‘im, an’ 250 ‘pon completion.”
“I take it that’s in the thousands,” Monty said with wide eyed enthusiasm. Walker just smiled and nodded. “Well, then. What’re we waitin’ for? Who is this guy we gotta meet with?”
“Some fella name o’ Darkenson,” Walker said as he looked to the slip of paper covering the crossword puzzle. “Guess this thing is pretty important to ‘im, ’cause he says he needs it d’livered ta some warehouse in Saint Mika.”
“Bloody…” Monty said in a low voice. “Saint Mika. Mafia don’t even head out there unless they plan on cuttin’ from the Don an’ go rogue.”
“Add to that,” Marianne spoke up. “There are reports of agents from both the Illuminati and the Sisterhood that populate the island. Even if it is in the shadows.” She took a deep breath as she thought back to her time patrolling under the Web.
“No one ever said this were gonna be easy,” Walker replied. He folded up his newspaper, slip of paper inside, and rose to his feet. “We best get ourselves ready ta meet this man. Get the full details from him.” Marianne and Monty nodded in unison as they rose as well, gathering their gear and leaving money for the drinks they had.
The trio was known in the island very well. They had become saviours to many of the common people, and a bane to those looking to make a name for themselves. Many of the businesses such as the tavern they vacated had made it known their presence was welcome. Even going so far as adding a set of hitching posts in front of the tavern for their three horses.
John Walker waited on his horse as his comrades mounted their’s. He nodded to each as they looked to him, and they steered the horses toward Port William to meet with this strange man.
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