Kill Shot

by Liliana Hart

  “Pull up Kyle’s file.”

  Ethan worked more magic, and Derrick Kyle’s bio popped up on the big screen with a full-color photo.

  “Now that’s a face I do know,” Gabe said. “He’s changed the shape of his face and hairline, but the eye shape is the same. Frank Bennett told me there was another plant in Tussad’s organization. I didn’t know who he was, but I suspected it was a man named Umar Salleh, also known as Derrick Kyle. He’d been undercover a couple of years already before I joined the op, but he gave himself away with little things. I wasn’t there six months before I had him pegged for an agent.”

  “Tussad. That’s the guy you asked me about earlier. I did some research while you and Grace were gone. He’s one badass motherfucker.” Ethan’s brain caught up with the words that were coming out of his mouth, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you worked undercover for Kamir Tussad? And now you’re actively searching for him? You’re going to get us all killed.”

  “Focus, Ethan,” Jack said, smacking him on the back of the head again. “One cluster fuck at a time.”

  Ethan scowled and rubbed the back of his head. “Someday, Jack, you’re going to be sorry you ever messed with me.”

  “I’m shaking, kid. It looks like you weren’t the only one who figured Kyle out, Gabe. He was shipped back to the U.S. in teeny-tiny pieces. Tussad practically gift wrapped the box before mailing it to Langley.”

  “He was killed just before—” Gabe shook his head, clearing the thoughts that bombarded him. Ethan stared at him with curiosity, and Jack put his hand on Gabe’s shoulder, either in warning or comfort.

  “Someone sold Kyle out,” Gabe finally said. “The way this all connects is making my skin crawl. I’m right in the middle of this whole mess. I’d like to have a talk with Shawn Kimball.”

  “Who did Kyle’s body get shipped to at Langley?” Jack asked.

  Ethan scrolled down a little further in the file. “Man, the news just keeps getting better. Frank Bennett. Bennett was Kyle’s immediate boss at the time he was sent undercover.”

  Gabe heard the elevator and knew Grace was about to join them. “Take the file of Derrick Kyle down. Put it away. Now.”

  * * *

  Grace knew something was up the minute she stepped off the elevator. None of the three men in the room even glanced at her, but she could feel the tension in the air surrounding Ethan. He wasn’t as good at masking his feelings as Jack and Gabe were. She wanted to laugh as she saw Jack look at Ethan and shake his head.

  She caught Gabe’s eye, but he didn’t glance away. He’d tell her whatever news he’d discovered when he was ready and not a minute before.

  “Looks like I missed the party.”

  She heard footsteps in the hallway, and her hand went to the weapon at her hip as she stepped to the side of the door. Logan came in and gave her an arched look when he saw where her hand was, but he stayed silent. Grace’s curiosity piqued every time she saw him. There was something about him that was different. She wanted to know how he got the scars that puckered across the back of his neck and seemed to go down even further, but she wouldn’t ask Gabe, and she knew he wouldn’t volunteer the information about another of his agents.

  He wore a long-sleeved gray T-shirt and worn jeans. Grace noticed he always wore long sleeves, leading her to believe that the scars were all over his body. His hair was pulled back in a leather thong and his face had two days’ worth of stubble.

  “So how was Mexico?” Gabe asked.

  “Interesting.” Logan sat back in one of the comfortable leather chairs and stretched out his legs. “The entire tribe was dead by the time I left.” Logan’s accent was thick with exhaustion and anger.

  “But not by the time you got there?” Gabe persisted.

  “No. Whatever the hell is in that formula is a sodding terrible way to die. It liquifies every organ. Slowly. I was there for eight fucking hours, and all I could hear was the screams of the dying, begging to be put out of their misery. The WHO doctors who were trying to keep the site contained couldn’t even go into the tents without casting up their stomachs.”

  “Were any of them able to tell you anything?”

  “Jesus, Gabe, they were all dying,” Ethan said angrily. “How could you even have him question them? ‘Rest in peace’ should mean something.”

  Gabe ignored Ethan and kept his gaze steady on Logan. He could read the grief in Logan’s eyes. The job had been a hard one, but it had been necessary.

  “The man our initial witness had seen turned out to be a missionary, so it was a dead end there. But everyone I questioned, at least those who were able to talk, said they all heard the same thing. A loud hissing sound and then the vibrations from the aftershock as the missile hit its target. They didn’t recall anything else unusual about the day until they all started getting sick.”

  “Did you find the shell casing for the missile?”

  A slight twitch at the corner of Logan’s mouth was the only way to tell he was smiling. “I brought it back with me. From what I could tell, and the location where I found the casing, it looks like it was released from the south. That’s guerilla territory. Any of those pilots could’ve been bought and done the deed. Most of them are used to running drugs and guns, so they wouldn’t have blinked at firing a missile over a peaceful village. The formula was released as an aerosol, and obviously found the DNA it was searching for. I found the casing buried in the sand almost a thousand yards away.”

  “Good work, Logan.” Gabe went to stand in front of the wall screens where Ethan had information set up.

  “You guys are a piece of work,” Ethan said, pushing back from his console. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, his face colored with anger and frustration. “It’s like you’re all robots. Don’t you have any feelings? Sympathy? I should not be the fucking voice of reason in this room.”

  Gabe turned to face him and sighed tiredly. “We are who we are, Ethan. There is not one person in this room, one tribe, or even one goddamned country more important than the whole. None of us have any illusions as to what we do. We’re fighting a war that 99.9 percent of the population doesn’t even know exists. They’re happy and clueless in their homes and with their jobs. We will all do what it takes for the big picture. If that means the torture of a captive or questioning an innocent who is dying a terrible death, then that’s what we’ll do. It’s time to grow up or get out.”

  Ethan’s breath grew ragged, and Gabe could tell the boy wanted nothing more than to plant his fist right in Gabe’s face. “Fuck,” Ethan said, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. “You should at least be sorry.”

  “We’re all sorry, but it doesn’t change the fact that the job has to be done.”

  “So what now?” Jack asked, pulling the attention away from Ethan and onto himself.

  “The mass killing should be halted for a while now that Allen Standridge is dead,” Gabe said. “It’s going to take some time for whoever is behind this to line up a new scientist and get a viable test product. We’ve got two goals to achieve. The first is to get the rest of the formula that’s still out there in Hitler’s paintings and destroy them. The second is to flush out this man.”

  Gabe turned and faced the picture and dossier of Shawn Kimball that popped up on the screen. “Kimball’s working for whoever is behind The Passover Project. He’s former military, and he’s got CIA connections. I also have a feeling that this is the man who killed Frank Bennett. If he did, then he had the opportunity to search the personal files Frank kept at home. He might know more about some of us than I’m comfortable with.”

  Grace narrowed her eyes at Gabe as if trying to read between the lines. There was something deeper here than Kimball knowing about their private lives.

  “How are we going to flush him out?” Ethan asked. “He obviously knows where we are since he’s sending thugs after Jack.”

  “We won’t have to. He’ll come to us. He’s got us under surveillance. We’re going to have to
get rid of most of his team before we can leave for Tehran and destroy the painting, but we’ll leave one of them alive to deliver a message.”

  “We’ll be ready for him,” Jack said. “I’ve got a little something of my own to deliver to Mr. Kimball.” He rubbed at his sore ribs.

  Ethan’s anger hadn’t dissipated, but he’d gotten control over it for the most part. Gabe knew he was asking a lot of the kid, but they’d all been young when they’d started, and they’d each had to make certain adjustments to be comfortable with the kind of people they’d become. The job wasn’t for everyone, and he still wasn’t sure Ethan would be able to cut it.

  “So, great. We’re going to save the world and kill or torture everyone who deserves it. Just one question. How the hell are we all supposed to get into Iran? There’s no way we’re going to get in unnoticed with all the security checkpoints they have.”

  Gabe decided to let Jack handle this one since he was already laughing at the kid’s naivety.

  “Well, son, since you’ll be staying here, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it overmuch,” Jack said. “Leave the hard part to the big boys.”

  “The hell I’m not going,” he said, launching himself at Jack and getting a quick punch in before Jack could block him.

  Jack’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Ethan back on the couch with barely any effort, dabbing at his split lip. “Don’t touch me again, kid,” Jack growled. “It’s the only warning you’ll get. If you want to be an adult, it’s time to start acting like one. We’re a team. And you can’t get past your own pride and immaturity to see that there are four other people whose lives count on the trust of each other, and they’re all waiting on you to grow up.”

  Ethan deflated a little and said, “You need my eyes inside the museum. What if something goes wrong?”

  “Ethan,” he said. “It’s safer for all of us with you here. Getting electronic equipment into the country is always tricky. You can do everything you need to do from the comfort of this room.” He kept going before Ethan had a chance to argue. “The rest of us have covers already built and the paperwork we need to get into the country without a hassle. It’s time you started trusting the rest of us to do our jobs because we are all trusting you to be our eyes and ears once we’re in. What do you say, Ethan? How about being one of the team?”

  Ethan stared at him a long time, and Gabe wasn’t sure what answer the kid would give. He had a complicated brain and a whole lot of baggage.

  “Do I get to have a gun?” Ethan asked.

  “Why don’t we work up to that?” Gabe said. “I’m sure Jack would love to give you some lessons.”

  Jack grimaced, and the others laughed as the tension was finally broken.

  “Let’s get to work,” Gabe said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Stop looking at me like that,” Grace said. “This isn’t a date. We’re hunting.”

  “I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.” Gabe grabbed her hand and twined his fingers with hers. “Have I ever told you I like feeling the callous on your trigger finger? It’s a hell of a turn on.”

  “I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with that.”

  “We both know exactly what we are Grace. There’s never been any room for remorse in our line of work. Sympathy and compassion, yes. But not remorse. Someone’s got to do the dirty work. And only the best survive. We’re the best. I’d think it’s perfectly normal for people like us to find a certain skill set to be attractive to the opposite sex.”

  “Your psychology minor is showing.”

  “Wait till I get you on my couch.”

  She laughed before she could help it. The sound was rusty, and a part of her wanted to feel guilty. She shouldn’t feel joy. Should she?

  They strolled casually through the streets of Westminster—a couple holding hands, both armed to the teeth. It was midafternoon, and the sun was shining bright overhead, burning off the perpetual gloominess of gray clouds that kept threatening to fill the sky. There’d be more rain once the sun went down. They had one goal only for their outing—to flush out Kimball’s men and give them a message to give to their leader.

  “What do you think?” Gabe asked.

  “I spotted one on the roof of the building across the street. He’s probably working as part of a two- or three-man team on a rotation schedule. They could’ve rented the top floor of the entire building. It’s what I would do.”

  “Did you get that, Ethan?” Gabe asked.

  “Loud and clear. I’m already checking.”

  They were testing out the equipment they’d use once they were in Iran. Ethan had developed a wireless listening device that used satellite technology so the listener could hear conversations thousands of miles away. The device fit entirely inside the ear, so it was completely out of sight. They could turn the device on and off with a touch of a button on the watches they all wore. Gabe was still amazed at how clear the sound quality was. It was like Ethan was in the same room with them.

  “She’s right. Top floor was rented out two weeks ago by the Darwin Corporation. The day after the package from Frank Bennett arrived here.”

  “Jack, my guess is that Kimball’s other team is down at the end of the round-a-bout, since we’re on a dead-end street. He’d be able to follow our tracks for longer from that end.”

  “I’m already down here and have spotted them. It’s a two-man team.”

  “Let one of them live. Give him the message that I want to meet with Kimball.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Grace touched the tiny switch on her watch and turned off her mic. She grabbed Gabe’s hand and did the same to his.

  “You might as well tell me what you’re hiding about Kimball, Gabe. You’re trying to protect me from something.”

  They walked through an alley and came out on the street behind their headquarters. Gabe tugged on her hand and pulled her close.

  “What makes you think I’m hiding anything about Kimball?”

  “I can read you like a book. I know every expression on your face. I might not know exactly what the circumstances are, but I know when something is wrong. I’ve always known,” she said, referring to their past. “You don’t have to protect me. I can take whatever it is.”

  He drew her closer until their bodies bumped together, and he took her face gently between his hands. Grace’s breath caught at the look in his eyes—a mixture of longing and want and need. And love.

  “You still love me,” he said softly.

  She didn’t have the power to deny him. His gaze captivated her, and her eyes fluttered closed as he brought his mouth to hers and whispered the softest kiss across her lips. He pulled back, a look of regret that he couldn’t finish what he started in his eyes, and he ran his hand affectionately down the length of her braid before releasing her completely.

  “I’ll tell you about Kimball when we get back to our room. I promise.”

  “Our room?” Grace asked with a raised brow.

  “You don’t think you’re sleeping alone tonight, do you?”

  “No, I suppose not.” Grace took her Sig from her shoulder holster and checked the clip. “You take point, and I’ll be clean up.”

  “I never argue with a lady.”

  They both turned their ear pieces back on and checked in with Ethan before seeing to their task. The building was modern, a gray-bricked structure of five stories that was used for various businesses but was for the most part unoccupied. Gabe made quick work of the back door lock, and they slipped inside quietly. They took the stairs instead of the elevator to the top floor, their footsteps silent on the concrete steps.

  They spoke to each other with their eyes and hand signals only as they reached the door for the top floor. They knew there was a man on the roof, but they weren’t a hundred percent sure how many others they’d find. From what Jack had said about the men who attacked him, they were professional thugs, not professional killers. There was a world of differen
ce between the two.

  They went in hard and fast, Grace taking the low stance while Gabe took the high. There was no one in the long, narrow hallway. The walls were painted a stark white that was so bright it hurt the eyes, and the carpet was industrial-strength burgundy. The overhead lights were fluorescent, and the one at the far end flickered on and off.

  They hurried down the hallway, guns pointed at the floor, and flanked the lone door that divided the long walkway. Gabe knocked, and they listened as feet shuffled across the room and came to a stop in front of the door. The very distinct sound of someone chambering a round in a shotgun echoed from inside the room.

  Gabe didn’t wait. He fired twice through the door and once into the deadbolt and kicked it open. Grace moved in fast, stepping over the body, and a man by the window reached for his gun on the table just as she took her shot. They hurried through the room, pocketing the men’s cell phones and searching for anything else that might lead them to Kimball. There was a laptop on the couch they’d send Ethan over to collect later.

  “Everybody okay over there?” Ethan asked.

  “We’re good. Heading to the roof,” Gabe said.

  The rest of the floor was clear, so they headed back into the hallway and to the stairwell that led to the roof. Grace opened the heavy gray door and went through quickly and quietly. She knew where the man had his equipment set up, and the door faced away from his line of sight.

  He was right where she thought he’d be, looking through the scope on his camera, looking for them. There wasn’t a weapon in sight. They’d decided shots fired on a roof in the middle of London wasn’t a great idea, so Grace motioned to Gabe, and he snuck up behind the man like a bandit, snapping his neck cleanly with a twist of his hands.

  “Clear,” he called out to Jack through the mic.

  Gabe picked up all the surveillance equipment and left Grace with her hands free for her weapon in case they met anyone else on the way down.

  They reached street level when they heard Jack through their earpieces. “Clear on my end,” he said. “My new friend is already on his way to give Kimball our message.”