THERE HAD BEEN A time when Jack Dunn had been considered an important man.

A made man.

Getter Dunn. That’s what they used to call him because he could get stuff done. Back then he was one of Abner Lemonzeo’s most trusted men. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done for the Boss, and there wasn’t much he hadn’t done. He was a known man back then. Trusted by the man who employed him, and feared by everyone else.

All of that had changed the day that Mr. Lemonzeo had gone to jail.

After that, Jack had fallen, and fallen hard.

Rolf Klein had stepped in to fill the void that Mr. Lemonzeo had left behind. Once that had happened Jack might as well have not existed. Klein and Lemonzeo were bitter enemies. There was no way that one of the Boss’s most trusted would find a place in Klein’s family.

Yet, Klein had offered Jack a job. Jack, of course, had refused. He’d rather live under a bridge, penniless and alone, then work for Rolf Klein. The man was an animal. He had no loyalty. No honor.

It was two years before anyone would hire him, and even then it was for small jobs like collections or shakedowns.. He wasn’t happy about it, but he took what he could get. Besides, it sure beat flipping burgers.

His current job involved Jack sitting behind the wheel of a sedan, engine running, as the three men who’d hired him knocked over a bank on the south side of Leavenworth. They had met up in an old barn just outside of town. From the barn it had taken them eight minutes to get to the bank, it was going to take another six minutes inside the bank, then eight minutes again back to the barn. From there they would split the loot and then separate, each driving away in a different direction.


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