“I thought the CCR shot you. I mean, I know they did. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“They shot me, all right.” Franklin rubbed his side. “But no one cared enough to check and see if they’d done the job right. It took a while but I finally recovered and here I am.”
The smile faded from Cody’s face. He looked around the warehouse. It was a small weapons arsenal. Every kind of rifle, machine gun, bomb, grenade and missile launcher imaginable was stored there.
“What exactly are you doing, Franklin?” Cody asked suspiciously. “What are you doing working with these guys? They’re killers, hired mercenaries …”
Franklin’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Cody. Sometimes things aren’t exactly what they seem.”
A dog barked and a muscular young man fumbled with the already open locks before bursting in the door.
“Boss, the kid is gone just like you said he would be. I don’t know how, but—” The dog, a stocky red and gray Australian heeler, snarled, and the young man noticed Cody standing slightly behind the door still holding the knife. He immediately aimed his submachine gun at the boy’s head. “You want me to take him out?”
Franklin folded his arms. “Cody Pierce, meet Rico Hernandez.”
Rico ran his left hand through his thick black hair, confused but still pointing the gun.
“Rico, Cody will be staying with us awhile. I want you to show him around the place. When you’re done, bring him to my office. Cody and I are old friends and we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yes, sir. Uh, sir?” Rico scratched his dimpled chin. “You want me to show him everything?”
Franklin nodded and walked toward the doors. “Cody is to be treated like one of us. I’d trust him with my life.”