Bounty Hunter

Chapter 12

Roderick Sloan sat in a plush chair in the heavily decorated office of the local MRC administrator, across from the man behind the desk, Meho Micovech. As with the other towns Roderick had visited, Roderick's bodyguards stood with their blasters held at Meho's head, while in the corner, Meho's lieutenant lay dead on the floor—a wholly unintentional death, in Roderick's defense.

Roderick held a blaster on his lap so that the man could see it. "So, do we have a deal?"

Meho gulped. "I take orders from you, and I reassign my soldiers to you. In return, you let me and my family live."

"More than let you live, you'll thrive," Roderick said. "It's a win-win for everyone involved. We pay all soldiers time and a half for work done on our behalf, and we'll send you monthly payments for your cooperation. Your soldiers are happy as long as someone is feeding them orders, and MRC Central is none the wiser as long as you continue to make your regular updates to them as though no circumstances have changed."

"You mean, I continue to tell them that my soldiers are still based here in Thorne," Meho said.

"Yes. And if you give them even the slightest suspicion, then I will pay a visit to you and your family. I'll start with your pretty daughter. She just turned sweet sixteen, right?"

Meho shivered. He glanced at the blasters leveled at his head and then shakily held out his hand.

Roderick grinned and then shook Meho's hand. "Excellent. It's been great doing business with you."

Roderick stood and strolled from Meho's office with a lightness in his step. He'd just added another eight murcs to his growing army—his farm boys—making his number now over one hundred. Even more than his brother had. With those numbers, he'd certainly become the wealthiest man in the Midlands, and no one would be able to stand against them.