11. Michael
“Solar powered?” Jack catches Dana’s attention from the back seat, and she turns, nodding her head in my peripheral vision.
Panels line the roof of what I would call a shed. It’s so small.
“The generator was noisy. It kind of ruined the whole nature vibe. I had the panels installed a few months ago. I don’t use a lot of power on my own.”
Grey pulls in behind us. His headlights illuminate the interior of our car, revealing the look on Dana’s face before he turns them off.
The corners of her lips droop down; the fire in her eyes from earlier is gone. Her attention is on the place she’s called home for months.
“It’s—um—not a big place,” Dana mumbles as she opens her door. She’s quiet enough that Jack doesn’t hear her, but I do.
“Jekyll, join me on the perimeter?” Jack circles the car, handing the duffel bag to me before walking to the other vehicle.
I extend my arm, urging Dana to get inside the shack.
She drops her head, and her shoulders slouch as she heads toward the front door. Grey follows on my six.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a key. I watch her hands as they work to unlock—a padlock.
She lives here, in an old shack, secured by nothing more than a padlock I could snap with a bolt cutter. Hell, I could probably open the door by putting my shoulder to it.
Guilt eats at the lining of my stomach as I picture all the luxuries I lived with over the last year while she simply survived, by herself, in the middle of nowhere. My gums ache as I clench my teeth, and my attention fixates on the rusty lock that’s supposed to keep Dana safe at night.
“It’s not so bad.” Her subdued tone catches me off guard, and I shift my attention to meet her eyes. “Um, the place. It’s pretty up here during the day.” She shrugs. Her restrained smile doesn’t meet her eyes.
Opening the door, she flips a switch, and a light flickers a few times before staying on. She enters, leaving me standing outside.
Grey catches my attention as he follows Dana inside.
“Your resting bitch face…” Whispering, he lifts his hand to his face, pointing around his mouth and softening his features in an attempt to tell me to school my expression.
I must be wearing my thoughts in a scowl, which is not making this situation any better. But hiding the tension I’m carrying is harder than it sounds, and I head straight for the first empty space I see, dropping the duffel on a table and turning my back to the room to collect my thoughts.
As a distraction, I go over Grey’s update in my head. Link was able to identify our first shooter: Blake Turner. There’s nothing special about him; he is considered an amateur in the world of contract killers. Using that information, Link’s team—minus Jessa, of course—was able to access his email and the information we needed on Dana’s contract.
We already knew there were a total of four takers. Whether or not the final three are here or still looking for her, we don’t know, but if someone as low-level as Blake found her, we need to operate under the assumption that everyone knows where she is.
It turns out the hit is coming from the Sparr family.
As far as the details, the contract has two payment levels and an incentive.
The first is a basic hit. The payout is low. On its own, the contract isn’t worth taking. The real money is in retrieving the files with Dana. The contract is vague; no doubt whoever is searching for it doesn’t want to advertise that a copy of Zane might still be out there. It references collecting all digital files in her possession or on her properties and offers examples of phones, laptops, and storage devices. The payout jumps to five times the original amount if the correct information is recovered.
This would require a level of surveillance.
The payout on those files is through the roof.
Then there’s the incentive; the last part of the contract is very interesting. The buyer wishes to witness Dana’s execution, if possible, and it carries an added bonus which effectively doubles the entire payout. This means Matteo is close enough that he can get here quickly if notified. Being the snake he is, he won’t stick his head out unless it’s a sure thing.
It turns out Blake accepted the first option. He was looking for a quick payday.
The events from earlier this evening sink into the pit of my stomach. We were lucky one of the contractors was this Blake guy. If we’d had four experienced hitters, she might not be standing here. If things hadn’t gone sideways like they did, we wouldn’t have been there.
When we showed up, Blake must have panicked and decided to cut his losses, take the shot, and get out of Dodge.
A more seasoned shooter would have waited. They don’t get out of bed for the pennies the first level of the hit paid out.
From over my shoulder, I listen as Dana gives Grey a tour of the place while he lights the logs in the fireplace. Neither of them are walking anywhere. This cabin is so small, you can get to every corner in less than ten steps.
Taking a deep breath, I clear my mind before turning around. As I rejoin Dana and Grey, the door creaks open, and Jack enters. Logan remains behind him, holding the door open a crack.
“Perimeter is clear, and the alarms are set. Grey, you’re heading back with Jekyll tonight. Get some rest. Eagle will bring you back in the morning. Grizz, I’m with you.” I nod, unsure of what to say, and my awkwardness catches Dana’s attention.
“Sure thing.” Grey rocks back on his heels then turns to Dana to say goodnight. He nods in my direction before following Logan out.
The walls are thin, and I easily hear their footsteps as they make their way to the car. Two doors thud closed, and the engine comes to life. The little room lights up then dims as they pull away and onto the dirt road.
Noticing the bag, Jack walks toward the table, hovering his hand over our supplies before glancing at Dana. Clenching his fist once, he opens the zipper and removes a rifle, two pistols, and their silencers, followed by a walkie-talkie and a radio.
Dana’s eyes widen.
After Dana told us all to fuck off, we had a discussion about what she needed to know. We can’t keep her safe if she doesn’t listen to us, and she won’t listen to us if we don’t tell her how much danger she’s really in. And the only way we can do that is to power up her need-to-know level.
“Don’t touch! Dana—I’m looking at you. Do you understand me?” Jack points at the weapons displayed on the table. He is as stern as I’ve ever seen him, and she picks her jaw up off the floor and nods frantically. “Now, get comfortable. We’re going to have a talk.” He points his finger at the ugly couch in front of the fireplace.
“Can I heat up some water for tea? I haven’t had anything except those drinks since lunch. I feel a bit ill.” There is no sass in her voice.
The poor thing looks like she’s barely treading water, and she’s probably feeling much worse due to the sugar crash from the sweet “cocktails” she was downing.
“Of course,” I answer, stepping in front of Jack. I don’t want to be the bad guy here, so I strain a smile, waiting for her to accept my pathetic olive branch.
The smile she returns is just as forced as my own. She takes the five steps toward the cupboards as Jack picks the radio up off the table.
“There’s no radio up here,” she answers flatly. She pulls out a small cooking range and attaches a mini propane tank before opening a bottle of water and pouring the contents into an old pot.
“That’s not what I’m looking for.” Jack twists the knob before turning the dial as he walks around the room.
“Is that a camping stove?”
I wince. I could have asked my question more artfully.
She glances over her shoulder without turning to face me. “The element on my real stove doesn’t work well. This heats up faster.” She opens the cupboard to pull out the tea, and it isn’t lost on me how little she has to eat up here. Only two of the five shelves have something on them.
As the water heats up, she turns, holding a small plate filled with cookies, and I catch myself before telling her that those are animal crackers. We all know what they are; she doesn’t need me to make her feel bad about them. And so I smile.
“The tea is steeping. I apologize for my lack of appetizers. Had I known I’d be entertaining tonight, I would have picked something up at the bakery. I’ll get some scones tomorrow.” Her sarcasm is evident.
“You won’t be going back to the coffee shop.” Jack’s answer is final, and she freezes mid-step as he continues to move around the room, holding the radio out to check for bugs.
“What? I thought I could go back tomorrow. That’s why I left with you—and got shot at.” Her voice raises with each sentence as she looks between us incredulously.
“We’re clear.” Jack’s announcement is for me; there are no bugs in the cabin. Setting the radio on the table, he turns his attention to Dana. “Things have changed. Your shop has been compromised.” He observes her reaction while he speaks. We both know her trust has a limit.
Her shoulders rise and fall with deep breaths. Her eyes jump between us before she snaps out of her thoughts, hiding her emotions with a tight smile and placing the plate on the small crate she uses as a coffee table.
“Let’s sit, and we’ll tell you what we know. I think you’ll agree: we need to pack up and get you out of here as soon as possible.” Jack grabs a wooden chair sitting off by itself beside the fireplace, and I step back, allowing Dana to choose her seat on the couch before taking the other side.
Everyone shuffles, getting comfortable, and I lean forward to take a cracker off the plate. Dana follows my lead, and we take a bite at the same time. They’ve turned stale, and, judging by the way she is chewing her food, she knows it, but I won’t let her feel bad. I keep my eyes on her, popping the butt half of the animal cracker into my mouth and finishing the dry cookie as Jack starts talking.
“We’ve learned details about the hit on you. Grizz tells me you know the contract had four takers?” Dana nods her head, swallowing down the last of her mouthful. “Matteo Sparr is the buyer. The contract is broken up into parts. There is a hit on your life, but mainly the buyer wants the files you destroyed.” Jack stops short of mentioning the incentive. Knowing Matteo is within striking distance will set Dana off, and neither of us are sure which direction she would go in.
“So what would happen if he found out the files were gone?” Her brows knit together.
“Well, we don’t know for sure,” I answer, and her eyes meet mine. “The payout on the hit alone is low, and you aren’t exactly a prime candidate for a contract killing. A woman who is no threat to anyone, on the run, for a minimal amount, wouldn’t sit right with many of these guys.” She weighs my every word as she stares me down after I finish speaking.
In reality, it is the exact opposite. She can say she doesn’t have the files all she wants, but the next killer most likely won’t believe her, and they’d torture her to open the higher payout on the contract.
“It sounds like it’s a good thing the files are gone then, right? What were they anyway?” Her eyes jump from Jack to me, and I look to him to silently ask if this is information we are cleared to share.
Shrugging, he shakes his head. She crosses her arms, staring Jack down. I’ve been around her long enough to know this look. She knows we’re keeping things from her, and any trust we’ve built up is trickling away.
I break the staring contest these two are holding when I shift in my seat, twisting my knees to face Dana.
“Grizz.” Jack’s tone is cold, a warning. I already know what he thinks I’m going to say, but I wouldn’t put his woman at risk. Holding up my hand, I ask for his trust and wait for his answer.
One silent nod. He’s giving me a very short rope, and it’s probably just enough to hang myself with.
I look back to Dana and take a long breath of my own.
“You had a copy of Zane on your phone.”