Bad Way Out
Sam Mackenzie Thrillers
In a case of corporate espionage, a Key West businessman hires Sam Mackenzie to retrieve technical information stolen from his company. He's told that confidence man Jack Craft recommended him. Sam has been burned by Jack before but this looks like easy money.
The job turns out to be anything but easy, as a caper flush with government agents, assassins, and conspiracy ensues. Not to mention a beautiful CIA agent with questionable motives has her eye on Sam, and mob thugs are after him for fallout from a previous job.
As the fireworks fly, Sam turns to his partner and a computer expert for help. The deeper they probe, the more they risk becoming collateral damage in a secret operation worth millions.
There's no good way out of this one.
The injured man coughed again and stirred as he eased through the room, the puddle of blood no larger than before. He left him there and stepped out of the house. The cat seemed to smile as he went past. The job had gone okay, except for the man on the floor. He hadn’t planned on that, and it could spell trouble. But he had gotten out of there with what he’d come for, and he appreciated that.
He eased out of the yard, took off the mask, and headed up the street to his rental car. Twenty minutes later, he turned into the parking lot of the marina where he’d moored his forty-foot cruiser Slipstream. Key West hotels had been packed out with visitors drawn to the annual Fantasy Fest celebration. According to a couple of places he had checked, thousands had descended on the town for parades, street parties, and costume contests. Though not interested in the partying, Sam did need to stay several days to case Ciano’s place and study the blueprints.
The boat gave him more flexibility in case things went badly. He could leave the dock and be out of site in minutes, rather than stuck on the Overseas Highway, the only road leading out.
A sedan followed him into the marina lot, and he wondered if it had been behind him from the time he’d left Ciano’s place. He got out with the bag of money. Spotting a figure hurrying over to him from the sedan, he pulled the gun from his pocket.
The stranger stopped about ten feet away. “Are you Mackenzie?”
“Maybe. Who’re you?” The dim light didn’t provide a clear view.
“You don’t need the piece. My employer wants to see you, right away.”
“Who do you work for?”
“We’ll take you to him, and he’ll tell you all about it.”
“I’m not going anywhere. If your boss wants to see me, he can come here.”
“That won’t be possible. Please get in the car.”
The boss might be Ray Ciano, Sam thought, the thug who owned the mansion with the hidden safe. He pointed the gun at the man and thumbed the hammer. “Go tell Ciano he can forget about the cash. It belongs to somebody else now.”
He heard the scratch of shoes on the pavement behind him, too late, and the muzzle of a handgun jammed into his back.
“Do what we say, and you won’t get hurt,” the man behind him said.
The first man stepped closer and grabbed the bag of money, took Sam’s 9mm, and patted him down. He hurried away and came back in the sedan, a big Lexus.
“Get in,” the man with the gun said.