“Nobody knows I’m working for you … at the moment, anyway.”
“Let’s keep it that way. You know how important it is to keep Mr. Chastaine’s good name out of all of this.”
“As far as anyone is concerned, I’m merely on a routine manhunt.” Frost had been waiting to drop his little bomb. He decided now was as good a time as any. “You on the other hand, have some work to do. A little damage control.”
“Oh?” McCallister scowled. “How bad is it?”
“Depends on your idea of bad.” Frost shrugged. “It appears there was some video shot last night at the location where our little package was sprung. Some of it is already showing up on the ultranet.”
“I’ll have our cyber-solutions department deal with that. See if we can’t make most of it disappear and discredit the rest. Really shouldn’t be a big problem. It won’t be the first incident we’ve had to address.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear y’all can keep shit under wraps.”
“The nature of our business, I guess.”
“You sound like me.”
McCallister paused, hesitant now. He dreaded the next issue. “I spoke with Mr. Chastaine just minutes ago.”
“And?” Frost sensed the apprehension.
“He wishes to assist you in your efforts.”
“Oh?” Frost was not sure he liked the sound of that. “In what way?”
“I’m sending two operatives to help you. I’m hoping you find good use for their … talents.”
“That’s a negative!” Frost felt his face began to burn, as his blood pressure suddenly spiked. “You know I put together my own teams. I don’t cotton to outside meddling!”
“You don’t have a choice this time, Frost. Mr. Chastaine is making this call personally.”
“Goddamnit! You don’t mess with my team!” Frost roared into the speaker. “Especially in the middle of an operation. You don’t understand this work. It’s about chemistry. Trust … teamwork … knowing what the other guy is going to do before he even does it ‘cause he thinks just like you do.”
“It’s not a subject open for discussion. They’re already on their way.”
“Then void my contract. Get someone else.” Frost shrugged, calm returning to his tone of voice. “I’m not gonna risk good men’s lives, or my reputation just so Daddy Warbucks can have a favorite nephew in on the action. You guys didn’t learn your lesson with that fat fuck I burnt this morning?”
“No, we’re not voiding contracts. It’s too late for that. If you quit on us now, I can promise you this … you won’t be able to find work locating a lost kitten.”
“Owww!” he grimaced savagely, as if he’d just taken a punch to the jaw. “You know how I feel about being threatened, you Yankee fuck. I’ve a good mind to fly up to that cesspool you call the Big Apple and choke you with your own tiny little dick!”
“Now, Forrest, don’t go slaying the messenger,” McCallister continued, trying his best to maintain an even voice. He knew what Frost was capable of doing. There was a reason they paid him twice the scale. The man was more than just a journeyman in his profession. He was the master artisan. To compare him to other ARA’s would be the same as comparing Van Gogh to a house painter. He didn’t just do a job. He did it with style. To be hunted down and captured by him was almost an honor. It was like that old florist commercial. It meant that they thought enough to send the very best after your ass! And if he ever decided you had to die, well … you better have your affairs in order.
Still, as highly regarded as he was, he was still a contractor. A hired gun. McCallister was still the boss. It was important that he make sure that the lines were not blurred, especially now. They were both Type-A Alpha males. Men like Frost didn’t like being bossed. Unfortunately, everyone answered to someone. That was just the way the world worked. Some gave orders, some took orders. Chiefs and braves. A chain of command. Sometimes people like Frost had to be reminded that, in the big scheme of things, for all his skill and talent, he was still just a brave. A very deadly and efficient one, but a warrior nonetheless.
“Look,” McCallister continued. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t have anything to do with this decision.”
“Yeah, right.”
“But the fact of the matter is, it’s done. You’re upset, I understand … But, there’s not a thing either one of us can do about it. It’s what Chastaine wants. We just have to work through it.”
“Fuck you and Chastaine both with a silver spoon!” It almost seemed Frost was trying to will his rage into the PDC and transmit it.
“Well, that was crude,” McCallister sighed. “There’s really no need to get personal. It’s just business.”
“It’s always just business with you corporate fucks. You’re not the ones out here getting your hands bloody. We’re just numbers on a bank account or tools to use like a scalpel or Bunsen burner.”
“Don’t be so proletariat, Frost. You make a very nice living off of us soulless, money-grubbing bastards.” He now moved to a more conciliatory tone. “Look, let’s drop all this animosity. I understand how you feel. Maybe we can work this out to our mutual satisfaction.”
“I’m listening.”
“You allow these two new … ‘additions’ to join your team and …”
Frost groaned. He knew there would be a catch.
“And … give them a fair shot …” This elicited another groan, but McCallister ignored it, as he continued, “A chance to prove their worth … and in return, I’ll make sure there’s something extra in your closeout check at the end of the job.”
“No,” Frost replied shortly. “You’ll make sure there something extra in everyone’s closeout check. Say … mmmm … twenty percent extra.
