The plane came to a stop twenty feet from the barn. The prop slowed and sputtered until it, too, came to an abrupt stop. The pilot remained behind the yoke while Boss, Maggie Armstrong, her partner, and two other armed men climbed out of the single-engine aircraft.
“Hate those fucking puddle jumpers,” Boss said.
Armstrong moved slowly toward the barn with her gun drawn.
Boss casually followed her. “Don’t know what you’re so on edge about. I know these fucking slopers. They’re dumb as rocks.”
“It’s not your slopers I’m worried about,” Armstrong said.
Boss chuckled. “What? You sweating the woman cop? She’s green as they come.”
“She was smart enough to put all this together.”
“Smart or not, a bullet will put her down just like anyone else.”
Corporal Armstrong bit her lip. She honestly didn’t want it to come to that.
“No one touches that fat fuck Kenny. That waste of skin and bones is mine to deal with. He’s been a thorn up my ass for too long.”