Cache Money

Chapter 6

We moved through the corridors to the back room where the biggest guy you'd ever seen was. He was at least 7' tall and ripped, with a shaved head and a thick beard, wearing a sleeveless leather vest.

"You the guys from Cache Protection?" the man said in a deep voice. I was actually surprised that this guy was white, I won't lie.

"Yes, Sir." I said. "These are my men: Hawk, Tex, Viper, and Joker. Just tell us what we need to do, and you'll see it done."

"Good. We have a warehouse in the industrial area, and we don't have enough men to do it. We figured some people who do this kinda shit for a living might be better at it then we are."

"You got it. Just show my men where to go, and you and me can discuss terms. Sound good?"

"Sure thing." He said, pointing at one of his men, who wore a 'do rag and had a goatee, who leaded my men out of the room. He ordered all his other men to leave us alone and offered me a seat. He started fixing himself a drink. "Do you drink?"

"Sometimes. Any chance of a rum and coke?"

"Depends, you wand the powder or the drink?" He burst out laughing, and I couldn't help chuckling myself. He quickly made my drink and sat down next to me.

"Alright, well let's get down to business." I took a swig of my drink. "First things first: what's the pay?"

"You guys get a quarter mil each. So about 1 mil and $250,000 in total. Sound fair?"

"Of course. Sounds a little unfair for you guys, though, but I won't complain. Is payment in cash or virtual?"

"Which do you prefer?" He sat back and the chair creaked with his movement.

"Either works. Virtual is easier to move, but cash feels nicer. We'll take virtual."

"Sounds good. Do you have any questions?"

"Just outta curiosity... what exactly are we guarding?"

"My goods." His face crinkled.

"I need to know what we're guarding so we know which crates take priority in an attack."

"The ones in the back." His brow furrowed and he stood up. "Now, Mister Cache, I think you outta leave."

"If you insist, Mr. Jones." I stood from my chair and left my drink on the table. "Or do you prefer Mike?"

"Jones, to you. Now get to work, alright?"

"Got it, hoss." I walked out the door and met with my men. "Something's wrong here, guys."

"Whaddya mean, Scooter?" Hawk said, checking his gun.

"I asked what it was that we were guarding and he kicked me out. But the money's too good, so we stay on schedule. Just keep your eyes open."

We hopped in the black SUV that we'd brought here with us. Well, SUV is a bit of an understatement. We had enough money to afford military-grade APV's - Armored Personnel Vehicles - and we only brought the one.

But this one was unique in that it not only had space enough for up to 8 guys, but it also had a .50 cal machine gun turret mounted on the top, with a few thousand rounds. This thing could bring down a chopper in no time, and the recoil from the gun is absorbed into the chassis, and dispersed through the tires. So the driver has a harder time when the gun is fired, but it makes it easier for the gunner to hit his target.

"Alright, Viper, you drive. Hawk, you mount the gun. Tex, you ride shotgun, and Joker, you're with me in the back. Check your guns; we have no idea what to expect here."