“So, we are agreed? Twenty-eight hundred per kilo and any load over five hundred kilos will carry a ten thousand bonus.”
Piers nodded; it was not the best deal he’d ever made, but there was not a lot of choice. DeVere was pushing for his money, and much as Piers hated bailing his brother out he knew what DeVere would do to Mark if his debts were not covered. They were going to be having a conversation and more to the point, Mark would be doing his part on this deal.
They shook on it and then he was out in the cold air, suddenly filled with apprehension; Santos had negotiated the price down, but not as much as he had expected. He reasoned that all he had to do was make sure the crew were ready for the potential double cross and then get on with the job in hand.
He lit up a cigarette, nodded to the guy watching the door and then headed across the street to where he’d left his car. As he stepped into the darkened alley, just out of sight from Santos’ place, he saw a cigarette lighter flash into life;
“Hello Piers.”