Bounty Hunter

Chapter 23

Joe did not want to go to Harry Haft's—quite the contrary—but he had to speak to Reuben before Roderick Sloan talked. When he entered the bar, he knew he was too late. Everyone went silent and turned to look at him. Well, everyone except for the drunk passed out at the bar.

Tumbler and Bolt walked toward him, both with their rifles in their grips.

"Reuben doesn't want to talk to you," Bolt said.

"Too bad. I need to talk to him," Joe said.

"A hunter who turns on the client. You're screwed, Havoc. No one will work with you again, not that you'll live long enough to go broke. You should be running while you still have the chance," Tumbler growled.

"Nah," Joe said. "You would've shot me the moment I walked through that door if you were getting paid for it."

Tumbler glared. "I'm looking forward to putting you down when it does."

"Don't try to bite off more than you can chew." Joe cocked his head. "Then again, you do have a pretty big mouth."

Tumbler rushed him. Joe grabbed the other man's arm, spun around, and used his body to flip the guy over him. Tumbler landed on his back. When he moved to get up, Joe put a foot on the man's chest and aimed his rifle at him.

"I'd stay down if I were you," Joe cautioned.

"Let him be, Havoc," Bolt said, his rifle pointed at the square of Joe's back.

Joe held Tumbler down for another long second, then stepped back.

"Havoc."

Joe turned to see Reuben standing in the doorway. The man glowered, motioned for him to come, and turned around and walked back into his office. Joe followed, and the door closed behind him, the room hushed.

"That Tumbler sure doesn't have much of anything under his helmet except hair," Joe said.

"That's why he has a partner. If it wasn't for Bolt, I'd guarantee Tumbler would have multiple tickets out on him by now. Speaking of, what the hell were you thinking in Clearwater? Based on your recent lack of judgment, I think I should've assigned you a partner a long time ago."

Reuben sat behind his desk, closed his eyes, and rubbed his face. When he looked up, Joe could read the exhaustion in the young man's features.

"I take it that Roderick Sloan already spoke with you," Joe said.

"Surprisingly, no. Gabriel Sloan left here about an hour ago." Reuben's gaze hardened. "Sloan's pulling Haft Agency's guild approval if I don't turn you over to him by sunset today."

"He can't do that."

"As the MRC administrator, he can do any damn thing he wants."

"His brother's running a slave farm up there in Clearwater," Joe protested.

"That's not our problem."

Joe's lips thinned. "He also has a couple hundred murcs, all armed and up to something. That is our problem."

Reuben eyed him for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it's not. We're bounty hunters, and unless we have a ticket, it's not our business. Whatever the murcs do is murc business."

Joe gritted his teeth. "If we don't do anything to stop them, then who will?"

"My guess is that sheriff, who you had a knockout ticket, on was doing her bit." Reuben sighed. "Damn it, Havoc. Why couldn't you have just done your job?"

"It got complicated."

"There's nothing complicated about being a bounty hunter. You get a ticket, you carry out the ticket, and then you collect. Simple as that. After they take you, I'm going to be down one more hunter, and I'm already running too thin." He motioned to the wall.

Joe looked at the names of hunters killed in duty or missing, presumed dead. The newest name made Joe do a double-take: T-REX.

He frowned. "Why's Rex's name on the wall?"

"Because he hasn't been answering his comms since he went out to Copper Gulch to send a message to the Iron Guild."

Joe was genuinely shocked. Even though many people he'd known had died throughout his life, Rex was one of those larger-than-life characters. While Joe wouldn't call Rex a friend, he still felt the loss of a brother. He frowned. "I told you that was a bad idea."

Reuben glared. "I don't need to hear that. What I need to hear is a solution that doesn't involve having my agency becoming nothing more than a bunch of back-alley bounty hunters. And sunset is less than an hour away."

Joe swallowed as ideas flashed through his mind. Everything he could think of involved him running like hell out of Cavil and leaving Reuben in the lurch. He knew that no apology would satiate the Sloan brothers—Joe had tried to kill one of them, after all. The only way to stop the Sloan brothers was to kill them, and Joe couldn't do that without an army of his own—along with a lot more time than one hour.

He sighed after a length. "The only way to save the agency is to turn me over to them."

Reuben grimaced. "I wish there was another way."

"Believe me, I do too."

An alarm beeped on Reuben's display, followed by the sounds of blaster shots and yells in the bar behind them.

Reuben's eyes widened with fear. "They're early."

Joe shook his head and unholstered both blasters. "They're not here just for me."

He'd been through enough wars to know the sounds of a battle when he heard them.