criminal Steve Forbes is back in Sydney and still up to his evil ways, with
his partners in crime Craig Johnson, disgraced Ex-New South Wales Cop, Oktay
Saglam, Turkish Spook and Solly Dundas, the newly appointed President of the
Animals Outlaw Motorbike Gang. All are active and full of Alpha Male
bravado. Scheming with and without one another to make a dirty earn, which
is what each of them knows best.
The feared foursome are about to
launch a new illegal rort that could see them all extremely rich or very
dead, depending on the games Forbes is playing with another villain, Benny
Kobeissi, AKA Benny the Leb.
Forbes and Benny were once
associates, though they fell out with one another over the love interest
each sought in the same woman, Assi, a vivacious Mediterranean beauty with a
face and body to die for.
But someone is always the winner;
the loser will never make a comeback when you gamble with your life in the
crime game, sooner or later there are No More Bets.
The story moves at a breakneck speed
with many twists and turns; you’re never quite sure
who’s a friend or who’s a foe. Life’s cheap to these bad
boys, all Hell bent to exact revenge on anybody that stands in the way of
them getting to the top of Sydney’s Underworld.
In Store Price:
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Number of pages: 205
By the same author
Good as Gold
Some Days Are Diamonds
Lure of the Dirty Dollar
Talk Dirty To Me
Shot at the Title
Cover: Clive Dalkins
About the Author
Ken MacKenzie has been in the security industry for over
thirty years, working on doors in pubs and clubs on Sydney’s northern beaches in
the mid-eighties through to the nineties.
The last twenty-seven years he has been employed driving
armoured cars around both metropolitan and regional areas of New South Wales.
He presently resides on a farm at Mount Seaview on the
mid-north coast, exploring the bush and writing.
Keeping my head low, I half ran, half crawled bent over,
trying to hide myself among the shipping containers and pallets as the bullets
sprayed above and all around me again, ricocheting off the containers and other
metalwork of the huge warehouses structure. My left leg was throbbing and
burning where a bullet had entered it through the front of the thigh, before
exiting out the back, I could feel the blood pissing out of the wound. Then the
firing stopped again as quickly as it began and Benny’s voice rang out once
more. “Listen cunt, it’s better if you come out and cop a bullet, ’cause if you
don’t and Yassa has to come and find you, you’ll die by the knife and trust me
Forbsey, you won’t fucken’ enjoy that one little bit, you fucken’ low dog cunt
of a thing!” I wanted to shout back at Benny the Leb and tell him to go and fuck
himself and his half-baked bodyguard Yassa, the knife-wielding assassin, but I
didn’t want to give my hand away. So I held my tongue and continued to carefully
crawl about trying to find my way around the labyrinth of containers and other
shit that was stored in the massive warehouse. Both of my back-ups were dead as
dog shit, they’d never even seen the bullets coming that had sent them both to
hell in a hand cart, the poor simple cunts.
Stopping behind one of the dozens of rows of triple-stacked
shipping containers I slipped my pistol down the front of my jeans and sat with
my back against the double metal doors of the container. Ripping off my dark
hoody, I tightly wrapped it around the wound in my leg. The makeshift bandage
seemed to ease the pain a little, but it still hurt. I reached into my back
pocket of my jeans trying not to scream in pain from the exertion and pulled out
the small plastic vial that contained about a gram of cocaine. Pulling the
lid off the tube I tipped a little out into my hand and bent my head down and
rough snorted some of the coke, while I waited to see how the game played out,
wondering if I’d fucked things up.