12
I woke up at six-thirty, took a shower and walked to the ranch. The three other men turned up at eight in the car we'd picked out for the job. It was a Chrysler 300, used but with only ten thousand on the clock. It was fast enough, reliable and inconspicuous, with plenty of room for four big guys to get in and out easy.
I'd made Tony, the guy with the slick hair, get it serviced.
"You switch the plates?" I asked, stepping off the porch and circling the car.
"Uh-huh," Tony said.
"Got the gear?" I asked.
Blake, the blonde guy, opened the boot. I checked the contents. We had the rifles, the clothing, the masks, gloves and the holdalls. All as requested.
"Good," I said, checking one of the rifles. "Go in the house and get some breakfast. I'll get things ready."
As the others piled i
