“I always made it clear that once I broke one of you, I would have to go out and buy a new one.  Now I have to blast out a help wanted.  Shooter with nothing to lose.  Now hiring.”

Bill paused for a moment to down a gulp of beer.

“On the plus side, we get to split up his share of the contract.”

Liquid Sky sat around Bill’s living room, listening to him chide them.  Rick turned and looked out of the corner of his eye.  Ramon sat with his arms crossed.  Deckard held a half-empty bottle of beer resting on his lap.  He looked drunk, but it had nothing to do with the beer.  He had just gotten released from the hospital in St. Louis.  The doctors said he had a slight concussion.  He’d be fine once the swelling of his brain went down in a day or two.

Bill’s widescreen TV was on but muted.  Deckard was familiar with the story that BBC was reporting on though.  Some eccentric billionaire was building an artificial island off the coast of India in international waters.  It was called sea steading, and the platforms were being joined together to form the floating island, but it would be a few more years until the project was complete.  With the amount of enemies he had made around the world, maybe he would have to retire there.

“That mission was a total goat fuck,” Rick said.

“Yeah, I picked up on that,” Bill replied.  “I’m going to get to the bottom of how we were compromised.  After Henderson ate it in Pakistan, we knew we were being shadowed.  Maybe this was them showing their hand a second time.  First Henderson, then-”

“Then they got Zach,” Rick finished.