As one of Wyatt’s most loyal and trusted men, Mason was offered the chance to oversee the move into New York, one which he accepted with relish. Approaching his fiftieth birthday, Mason saw it as a semi-retirement. The chance to open a bar and begin the slow burn progression into the thriving drug culture in New York. Wyatt’s code meant that they wouldn’t launch an all-out assault on the other drug lords in the state. The plan was to establish a base, hopefully recruit a few loyal followers, and then slowly begin to turn the business towards the Riders. Provide assurances, along with clear repercussions, if people didn’t fall in line. It was a two-year operation, and Mason enjoyed the slightly quieter life as he diligently worked to the plan. Donnie and Jay relocated with him and they’d found that while the appetite for drugs in the Bronx was vast, the potential for new recruits not so much.

The regulars could pump all the cash into his tills until the cows came home, but Mason hadn’t met one who showed even the modicum of Rider potential.

It meant the expansion would need to wait.

Which suited him fine.

That afternoon, he was sitting at his desk, reviewing the takings for the previous week, while Donnie sat on the sofa opposite, clicking away on his phone. Less aggressive than Jay, Donnie was a smart man who Mason knew was being groomed as his successor. Either that, or another location. As both men went about their business, heavy metal music pumped out of the radio on the windowsill, bathed in the light that slashed through the plastic blind.

The tranquil afternoon was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mason raised his head, but before he could invite his guest in, the door opened, and an anxious Kelly slipped in. Donnie, a decade younger than Mason and with a sexual appetite of a college freshman, gave her a flirtatious grin.

It wasn’t reciprocated and the worry on Kelly’s face caused Mason to stand up, his meaty frame looming large over her.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Err, I think so,’ Kelly said, shooting a glance back towards the door. ‘There’s a guy in the bar…’

‘He giving you shit?’ Donnie said, standing and puffing his broad chest. Mason rolled his eyes and motioned for him to sit back down.

‘Look, Kelly. I’ve told you…Jay will handle any guys who step out of line.’

‘Oh, he didn’t do anything like that.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s actually quite charming.’

‘So, what’s the problem?’ Mason rested his hands on his hips in irritation. ‘I’m pretty busy.’

‘Jay sent me. I have no idea who he is, but he is asking for Alex.’

Mason’s face contorted with confusion, and he stepped around the desk.

‘He a cop?’