Chapter Sixteen
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A ngel’s phone chirped while he was in the middle of stirring a pot of pasta sauce on the stove. His work phone, the one only a handful of people had the number for.
He glanced over his shoulder, aware of the sudden tension in his body. Liana was stretched out on the sofa in the living room with her laptop open, busy doing more research into the latest data on experimental treatment protocols and clinical trials.
He turned the burner down as low as it would go, covered the sauce to leave it simmer, and stepped outside into the backyard, shutting the door behind him. Angling his body so that he could keep an eye on Liana, he dialed the saved number.
“Got your message,” he said quietly when his contact answered. He didn’t want his neighbors to overhear if they came outside.
“One of our little birdies didn’t turn up for his post-meeting debrief. He hasn’t made contact, and his phone’s been turned off. That means he’s in the wind,” Hawk said. The nickname of a falcon Angel rarely had contact with.
“Which birdie?”
“Mark.”
Angel called a picture of him to mind. Mid-thirties, worked a custodial job at the Crimson Point Hospital where he acted as a courier for the organization, smuggling product into and out of the place for distribution. The organization liked to “launder” its product that way, using certain healthcare professionals to help circulate it, in exchange for a healthy monetary compensation.
But Angel made a lot more than that for his particular trade.
“Any leads on his current location?” he asked.
“Yeah, but there’s more. Two other birdies were arrested after being involved in a car chase and subsequent rollover near Crimson Point. One’s still in custody, but the other was released. Not sure where he is at the moment, but Mark’s headed up to Washington State. He made contact twenty minutes ago.”
“So what do you want?” Time was ticking. If he was being tapped for this job, he wanted to handle it immediately so he could get back home to Liana as soon as possible.
“Information. I’m sending you the last location where Mark’s phone pinged from. He hasn’t moved in the past three hours, so it looks like he’s bunking at the house. Find out what he knows and deal with him.”
Deal with him.
He shot another glance at Liana, still keenly invested in whatever she was reading, a little frown of concentration creasing her forehead. They were so close to securing her the chance she needed to save her life. “What’s the commission?”
“Fifty.”
It was less than what he’d made from each of his last two targets, but every bit helped. And his body count was already too high for his morals to balk at adding another. All bad people the world was better off without anyway. Or so he told himself. “Are you still tracking him?”
“Yes.”
“Send me the details, then at oh-two-hundred hours reverify his position. I’ll handle it from there.” He ended the call, ignored the prick of his conscience. This latest target was yet another lowlife the world wouldn’t miss. He could almost convince himself he was making the world a better place with this work.
Even if he wasn’t, it brought him one step closer to hopefully saving Liana. That made all the risks worth it.
When he stepped back inside, she looked over at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Just a work thing. They’re short-staffed again. You hungry?”
She hesitated a fraction of a second. “Yes.”
She’d barely eaten anything over the past two days, too tired or too nauseated to be interested in food. But even feeling like shit, she would force some dinner down to make him happy. “Liar,” he said softly.
Her lips twitched. “You’ve been working on that sauce for almost two hours. I don’t want all your effort to go to waste. It smells amazing, by the way.”
“Double liar.”
A soft laugh escaped her, and he smiled. Thin, exhausted, and ill as she was, he could still see the gorgeous woman he’d married in her eyes and smile. “Your cooking skills have improved exponentially since you took the reins.”
“That’s not saying much.” He’d been shit at cooking until she got sick. Must needs, and all that. “It’ll be ready in ten.”
“Can’t wait.”
They ate together in the kitchen. He helped her to the table and served them both. She was more animated than she had been in days. They chatted about what she’d found online that afternoon, and about the plans she had for the back garden next spring.
She finished another tiny mouthful of pasta, washed it down with a small sip of water, and sat back. He prayed it stayed down. She’d lost too much weight as it was. “When we go to Zurich, let’s take a week just for us to travel around first.”
The comment surprised him so much he stilled with his fork inches from his mouth. “Really?”
“Yes. Who knows, maybe some clean mountain air will revitalize me.” She reached across the table to grasp his free hand, a gentle smile curving her mouth. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends for so long, taking care of me and the house in addition to traveling for work and taking on extra night shifts. Carrying the weight of having to make enough to pay all the bills until I can work again. Mountain air would do you some good too.”
Guilt slithered through his stomach. He smothered it. Whatever lies he’d told her to hide the truth, he had made the right decision and would do it all again. And again. “I’d love that.”
“Good.” She squeezed his hand, sat back, and forked up more pasta. “Now polish off everything on your plate. Need to keep your strength up if you’re going to be carting me all over the Swiss countryside, up and down mountains like Peter in Heidi .”
“Sounds like fun.”
Her eyes sparkled, and seeing that will to live in her galvanized him. He would keep killing targets until he had the money they needed, even if it damned his soul to hell.
After dinner, they watched a movie in the living room, stretched out on the sofa together with her lying between his legs, her back propped against his chest and her head resting against his shoulder. Her hair smelled like the vanilla shampoo she loved.
She made it almost until the end before falling asleep. Angel stayed like that, holding her until after the credits rolled, tracking the slow, even rise and fall of her chest. Until after the screen went black and the sky outside the picture window went dark.
He carried her to bed. Tucked her in securely and left a note on the bedside table in case she woke after he was gone, though he doubted she would. The level of exhaustion she suffered would keep her asleep until morning.
Once the house was secure, he climbed into his car, checked for Hawk’s latest message, and then set off north for the Washington State border.
At two in the morning, he got the confirmed location. Twenty minutes later, he parked several blocks away and went to reconnoiter the target on foot. The run-down rancher was dark. Both front windows were boarded up. One car sat in the driveway.
Out of view of anyone who might be looking out a window, he tugged on gloves and a black balaclava that covered most of his face. A dog barked somewhere in the distance as he hopped the chain link fence into the backyard.
He picked the lock on the back door in seconds and slipped inside. The house was dark and still, a musty smell mixing with the acrid stench of weed.
Silenced weapon in hand, he crept through the cramped space and found a door closed at the far end. He eased it open, saw a shadow jolt upward in bed and moved fast, pinning the man to the bed and slamming a hand over his mouth before he could make a sound.
“Heard you had an accident this afternoon,” he said in a low, menacing voice.
Mark struggled, guttural sounds of rage and fear escaping his throat.
Angel silenced him with an elbow to the side of the head and quickly bound him, dragging him into a chair and tying him to it. Mark moaned softly, blood dripping down his temple.
Angel slapped the side of his face smartly. “Hey. Focus.”
In the thin light coming between the slats of the blinds on the window, he saw Mark’s head come up, eyes squinting at him. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Where was the meeting?”
“What?”
A backhand to the other side of his face snapped his head sideways. “Where?”
“Hospital in Crimson Point. Fuck, man! Lemme go.”
“Who else was there?”
It took some more physical encouragement to get him talking. But soon enough he had solid intel to feed up the chain. The two other guys involved with him checked out. The apparent dealer he’d met with was TJ Barros. And a female bystander had definitely seen them all.
“Who is she?” Angel demanded.
Mark coughed, spat out a mouthful of blood and glared up at him with utter loathing. “Just a chick I know from the hospital. She took off with TJ. I think he knows her too, because he was protecting her.”
“What’s her name?” he asked again.
“Bristol. Can’t remember her last name. Look, man—”
“What else?”
“There’s nothing else, man. Now fucking let me go!”
Not happening. And Mark knew it as well as he did.
Angel had what he needed. Now he needed to finish this job and get home before Liana woke up.
The silencer muffled the shot. He left the body tied to the chair in the bedroom and crept out the same way he’d come in, locking the door behind him with his tool. Back at his car he sent the image he’d taken to his contact using a burner, along with a message.
I need access to the security video outside the southeast corner of the hospital in Crimson Point. He specified the time window.
On it , came the reply. Commission transferred.
He checked his bank account, now fifty Gs fatter, then made his way back to the highway and headed south. He had just crossed the state line when his phone alerted him with a sharp ping. Pulling into a rest stop, he watched the video footage some hacker must have found.
The video showed the southeast staff and service entrance of the hospital and that corner of the parking lot. Angel’s latest victim and the others had been smart enough to at least have their meeting beyond the scope of the camera.
Suddenly a woman appeared at the right edge of the field of view, the flashlight on her phone aimed off screen. She stopped, startled. Her expression shifted from shock to anger. She said something. Appeared to be arguing with whoever was off screen. Then a man ran at her.
Tall. Big, athletic build. Dark hair, full goatee, wearing worn jeans and a plaid flannel shirt.
Had to be Barros.
He grabbed the woman’s arm, and they raced across the parking lot. Angel zoomed in to try to get a look at the license plate of the car they jumped into. It tore away out of view. Seconds later, a pickup raced after them.
Angel texted the plate number, make, model and color of the car to Hawk. He waited, thinking. The cartel didn’t have any intel on this Barros guy. Who was he? Angel couldn’t be sure, but it was possible that either he or Mark was the leak. Or maybe they were both involved.
He was just nodding off when a response came back.
Car registered to Bristol Moreau. It listed her address in Crimson Point.
He looked up the address, studied a map of the town as he considered his new orders that had just come in.
Find Barros.
They were desperate. That’s the only reason why they would ask him to take this on right now. And it would cost them.
Tracking isn’t part of my job description , he answered. That was Hawk’s and the other falcon’s territory.
It is now.
Yep. Completely desperate. Interesting. They must think Barros was at least somehow related to the leak.
How much more do I get? He didn’t care if it was ballsy. As long as he got the job done, he was valuable to the organization. He was safe. And so was Liana. He could afford to push a bit.
Triple if you handle it in the next twelve hours.
“Yeah, that works,” he murmured to himself, his heart beating faster.
This was it. The last big chunk of money he needed to get Liana her spot.
Angel started the car, pulled onto the highway and took the first exit west, driving toward the coast. He was going to Crimson Point to find Bristol Moreau. And through her, hopefully Barros.