Chapter 10 #2
She panned the area, searching for more tangos, but the yard appeared clear. “Mission’s a go. Stay low in case someone looks out the office windows.”
A hushed chuckle, then he eased out from behind one of the stacks, blending in with the shadows as he darted across the short expanse of open space before pushing his side against the truck.
He reached for the handle, glancing her way when it popped open without him having to break the glass or attempt to pick the lock.
The hinges creaked, the low groan blending in with the grind of the crane as it swung around and dropped another crushed SUV on the flatbed. Coulter slipped inside, gently closing the door behind him, his entire silhouette vanishing inside the vehicle.
Neve started a running clock inside her head. Counting out the seconds as she scanned the lot, keeping the truck in her peripheral vision. A flicker of movement appeared from behind the crane, one of Ramsey’s men stepping into the circle of light a moment later.
A dog barked off in the distance, the scent of melted plastic and burnt oil wafting on the breeze as she placed the guy’s head in her crosshairs. She clicked her comms twice, trailing the soldier as he walked up to the next SUV, taking a look inside.
Neve held her breath, finger caressing the trigger, every sense locked on the asshole’s progression as he eased back, then shuffled over to the next vehicle. Another glance inside with one hand pressed against the window, blocking the light’s glare. If he looked inside the truck…
She clicked her comms. “Tango, passenger side, moving your way.”
Her voice barely carried, her unspoken intentions more than clear. If the bastard got too close…
The crusher continued in the background, picking up the next SUV as the soldier stepped back, glanced at the truck. He frowned, started toward it, when something crashed down one of the rows, the sound a mix of glass splintering and metal grinding on metal.
The guy stopped, angled toward the noise, waiting a moment before heading off — his large form disappearing behind a stack of cars. Neve maintained her vigilance, praying Scout hadn’t taken too much of a risk because Neve doubted pieces of one of the wrecks had simply fallen at a crucial moment.
A click sounded in her comms, followed by Scout’s hushed voice whispering, “Clear.”
Neve owed her for that. Saving Coulter — saving the mission. Though, with the truck next in line to be destroyed… She clicked on her comms, again. “Coulter. Your truck’s next. You’ve got maybe a minute.”
A click.
Not that knowing he’d heard her eased the tension in her shoulders. Or prevented her from jumping to a few worst-case scenarios.
She hunkered down, panned over to the crane, scanning the machine for anything she could capitalize on to disable it, short of shooting the operator. Not that she wouldn’t if it came to that. But even a non-lethal shot would alert someone — have the RCMP onsite inside of five minutes.
Yellow metal gleamed in the overhead light, scuffs and scratches marring the crane’s smooth surface, looking indestructible until she found a junction box with wires snaking out the bottom.
She adjusted her scope, had that box dialed in when the crusher shifted, that long claw arm swinging toward the truck.
The change in position hid the box behind the massive lever, ruining any chance at winging it as it grabbed the front end just as the side door opened, Coulter’s boot hanging beneath the door frame.
The arm pivoted upwards, the momentum closing the door with a dull thump as the entire engine block tilted, lifting the tires off the gravel lot at a thirty-degree angle.
She shifted to the cab, prepared to put a round in the guy’s shoulder if needed, when the arm pivoted, exposed the junction box again as it dragged the truck a couple feet forward.
No second guessing if the muffled thud would draw any of Ramsey’s men.
She simply lined up her target, fired. The rifle slammed against her shoulder, the round hitting the target a second later with a metallic smack.
Smoke poured up from inside, a few sparks arcing off the exterior before the motor died, the engine grinding to a halt.
The overhead light flickered, dimming to half strength without fully quitting, some of the power obviously still getting through. The guy inside the cab jumped, tried the key a few times before slamming his palms on the levers.
Neve panned back to the truck, willing Coulter out of the damn thing when the office door opened in her peripheral vision, a couple men slipping out. They ambled toward the truck, heads bent in conversation before they stopped next to the vehicle, the guy on the right grabbing the handle.
He paused with his fingers brushing the side, head turned away from her as he shouted for the operator to turn the damn crane back on.
Neve froze.
The voice.
The silhouette.
The way he tilted his head to the side as he waited for a reply.
She recognized the bastard before he turned, gazed back in her direction, face still half-hidden in shadows, that same, indifferent smile. The kind that screamed psychopath.
Daniel Fraser.
And for the first time since that night, she had him in the crosshairs.