Within two years she had given up on theft and moved into the far more lucrative world of contract killing.
Hector's story was a bit more nuanced. Unlike his partner, he grew up far from poverty. Far from everything in fact.
His family owned an olive plantation in Almeria, Spain. The tract of land had been in the Santos family since the time of the Crusades, each generation tending the land exactly as the one before it.
Summers spent in the fields. Winters spent taking the crop as far off as Seville with his father to sell.
When he came of age, he joined the Spanish Armed Forces. Quickly ascended to the rank of Comandante. Drew the eye of every top official in the country.
Fast tracked to become a Generale.
Those were their plans though, not his.
The day he turned twenty-five, he quit. Walked into his commanding officer's office and dropped his resignation on the desk. Turned on a heel and disappeared into the night.
Had not been seen or heard from in his home country in the decade since.
Over the years, conspiracy theories had popped up in droves to describe his actions.
Some claimed he was in debt with the wrong people. Forced to leave to settle old scores.
Some believed he had shamed his family through his success as a combatant. He had left to allow them to save face.
Why he had actually done it was a secret he had not shared with a single living soul.
A second room stood adjacent to the master bedroom, identical in size and shape. In it were a small conference table, a desk, and two overstuffed armchairs.
Collectively, the items made up the suite portion of the room.
On the table was a small cardboard box, roughly twenty inches square and four inches deep. Five files were fanned out around it in a semi-circle.
All basic green folders. All with a single name affixed to the cover.
All unopened.
Hector settled himself into one of the swivel chairs positioned around the table. He had changed into a pair of black pants and matching pullover.
The ensemble made his brown skin appear even darker.
His eyes were round and deep chestnut, perched above sharp cheekbones. Thick dark hair was shorn a uniform quarter-inch long around his head.
He watched in silence as Raquel positioned an oversized laptop on the opposite end of the table. Turned it so the screen and the camera were facing them. Pulled up the video conferencing program.
Silently she lowered herself into the chair adjacent to Hector.
The only thing she had changed from the flight were the knee-high black boots. Now she wore tactical boots laced tight beneath her black denim pants and fleece.
Her newly-dyed auburn hair was pulled back into a bun behind her head.
Hungarian roots permeated her features. Heavy, dark eyebrows. Eyes that were almost black. Thick lips. A hard jawline.
Attractive, in a borderline masculine sort of way.
Hector checked his watch. Kept his eyes aimed at the screen.
"What time are they supposed to call?"
"Six o'clock."
Hector grunted. "Late night in London."
Raquel nodded. "They wouldn't have called us if something wasn't keeping them awake at night."
Hector grunted again. Said nothing.
The two sat in silence for a full three minutes before the screen finally sprang to life before them. When it did, both stared stonily back at it.
No friendly hellos. Not even a smile.
They were the best in the world at what they did. Part of that necessitated maintaining a certain appearance.
That appearance did not include small talk or chummy behavior.
They had each other. They didn't need friends.
On the screen, three people looked back at Hector and Raquel. This was the fifth time the two sides had done business together, but still they appeared nervous.
"Good evening," Leigh Montgomery said. "Thank you for making arrangements so quickly."
Neither Hector nor Raquel said anything.
Montgomery took the cue and motioned to one side. "With me are Henrietta McMillan, our Chief Economist, and Bernard Shaw, President of Bargain Mart International."
A moment of silence passed.
"Raquel Penz." Short. Curt.
"Hector Santos." Gruff. Brusque.
Montgomery nodded once and pushed forward. "I can see on the table there that you received the information packets we sent you."
Neither one looked away from the camera.
"This job is very much like the one we hired you for in Glasgow last summer. Inside those files are the five targets we have identified."
Still, neither one looked down at the files.
Silence filled the air for a moment.
"We will need twenty-four hours to assess the situation," Raquel said. Not a command. Definitely not a question.
"Of course," Montgomery said.
"If we accept, we will then forward payment information to you. Half up front, half upon completion."
"Yes, just the same as last time," Montgomery said.
"Not quite," Raquel said. "Our fee has gone up ten percent since then."
Montgomery didn't even flinch. "Not a problem."
Raquel grunted softly. Nodded her assent.
"Any special requests?" Hector asked. Same deep voice. The words came out more like a growl.
Montgomery's eyes narrowed momentarily. Opened again with understanding. "Accidental. It is absolutely imperative that they all look like unrelated accidents."
Hector remained silent.
Raquel paused another moment. "We'll be in touch."
Chapter Fifteen
The scent arrived long before he did.
It rose from the box cradled carefully between his hands. Drifted through the antiseptic hallways of St. Michael's Hospital.
Drew more than a few stares from employees and visitors alike.
Drake pretended he didn't notice any of them. Instead kept his eyes locked forward. Followed the same familiar path he had for the better part of two years.
Straight from the parking lot into the side entrance. Left at the reception desk. First right into the cafeteria.
The place was largely deserted as he entered, the Wednesday night crowd typically thin. A few families were clustered around tables eating in various locations. Sullen expressions, eyes cast down as they ate.
A handful of doctors and orderlies passed through as well. Coffee in hand, bags under their eyes.
A few turned a head towards the scent radiating from him. Most walked by without it even registering.
Drake stopped at the edge of the dining area and scanned the room. Found the large smile in the far corner he was looking for. Made a direct path for it.
Seated in their customary spot was Sage. In front of her was two large fountain drinks. Diet Coke for her, iced tea for him.
"Is that smile for me or the pizza?" Drake said as way of a greeting. Slid the box onto the table between them.
Sage wasted no time in tearing into it. Had her first slice halfway to her mouth before replying.
"Yes."
Drake smirked. "Right. I don't think I've ever been able to evoke the same response out of you that a large pie from Firetower does."
Sage made a faux sympathetic face. "Don't take it personally. Nobody does."
"Gee, thanks," Drake said. Grabbed up his own piece from the box.
A moment of silence passed as they both inhaled a slice.
"So how you feeling?" Drake asked.
Another smile creased Sage's face. She pushed back the sleeve of the thermal shirt that belied her standard scrubs top.
A cluster of brown blotches stared up at them.
"Check these bad boys out."
Drake let out a low whistle. "Look at Suzy Badass over here. Should I put in a call to the Griz?"
Sage pulled the sleeve back down. "Well, I do have eligibility
left."
"That you do," Drake agreed. Finished off his second slice.
"And you?" Sage asked.
Drake rolled his right shoulder once. "I caught some kid's helmet on that last go through. I didn't notice it at the time, but it's a little sore now."
Sage chuckled. "I'm not surprised. You and Kade were both so keyed up you could have ran through a burning building and not known it."
The same chuckle rolled from Drake. "Yeah, we were pretty excited. Been a long time since we got to hit anybody. If I remember correctly though, the rest of you took to it pretty well too."
Sage tried to cover the bottom half of her face with her hand. The corners of a smile peeked out anyway. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Right."
They both worked a little more at the food in front of them. No sign of slowing down from either.
The Wednesday dinners were something that had started when Sage began at St. Michael's. The second shift was considered the least desirable by most employees, though she chose to stay on it.
The obvious reason for that being so she could continue running with the Zoo Crew in the mornings.
Not that she would ever come out and admit it.
In exchange for her sacrificing her evenings, and most of her social life, Drake began meeting her for dinner every Wednesday night.
Sometimes the others joined. Sometimes they didn't. Either way, good times were had by all.
"So how's the hand?" Sage asked.
Drake held it up, flexed it twice. "It's getting there. I didn't notice it at all this morning. Hasn't tightened up any since."
"Good," Sage said. Took a long pull on her Diet Coke.
As she did, her eyes drifted from Drake to over his right shoulder. Focused in as the straw slowly lowered from her mouth.
"Hey there."
Drake turned to see Sandra shuffling towards them. She was wearing a janitor's vest. A pair of canvas work gloves extended from the front pocket.
"Hey there," Sandra said. "I'm very sorry to bother you two."
"Not at all," Sage replied.
Drake motioned to the open box. "Would you like some pizza?"
Sandra pressed her lips tight together. Shook her head from side to side. "No, thank you. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."
"Anything," Sage said. No pause at all.
Sandra made a pained expression. Looked dolefully at Sage. Slid her gaze to Drake.
"Actually, I need to ask it of him."
Chapter Sixteen
Thursday.
Another day. Another damned meeting.
Thomas Jenks slammed the door of his car so hard it shook the entire frame. Stuffed his hands down into his pockets. Stomped his way across the deserted parking lot to the back door.
Heavy rings underscored both eyes. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept well in months. Hadn't slept at all the last week or so.
More than that, he was tired. Tired of being afraid of what corporate might say. Tired of being made to feel like a third-rate citizen.
Tired of seeing the interior of the same building every day of his life.
Truth be told, he wasn't sure what he was even doing in Missoula any more. He had never skied a day in his life. Never once caught a fish.
Hated the cold.
Jenks let himself in the back door. Flipped the overhead lights on. Stopped in the break room and brought the coffee maker to life before going to his office.
It was going to be another in a string of those days. He could tell already.
Jenks left the machine to do its thing and shuffled into his office. Swung his coat over the back of his chair. Dropped down into it.
Maybe this was the universe giving him the proverbial kick in the pants he needed.
Bargain Mart was the only employer he'd ever known. Started when he was in high school to pay for gas and car insurance. Stayed because it was the path of least resistance.
Once upon a time he'd wanted to be a landscape architect. Travel the country designing parks, communities, golf courses.
Jenks looked past the images still up on his computer monitor from the night before. Focused in on his own reflection staring back.
Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he would tell Bargain Mart to stick it. Pack up everything he had and drive south. Find someplace warm.
California. Arizona, perhaps.
Get on with a landscape crew during the day. Go back to school at night.
He was still in his thirties for crying out loud. There was time. It could happen.
Two sounds simultaneously jolted Jenks from his thoughts.
The first was the coffee maker letting him know it had run its course. A series of low pulses emitted in an even pulse.
It pulled him to his feet and out the door in a response that would have made Pavlov proud.
The second was the back door to the store opening.
At half past seven in the morning, Jenks knew who it was. The only other person who would possibly be arriving so early.
Jenks grabbed up the oversized mug from the corner of his desk. Went into the break room and held it under the coffee spigot.
Filled the cup halfway, drank it in three long gulps, then filled it up again.
"Already drinking it straight from the tap, huh?" Lisa Wells asked from the doorway.
Jenks turned at the sound of her voice. Smiled sheepishly.
"You have no idea. Want some?"
Wells held up the same cardboard cup she'd had a few days before. "Green tea. Easier on the kidneys."
Jenks snorted. "It's not my kidneys I'm worried about these days."
A small smile played across Wells' face. "I might be able to help with that." She tossed the top of her head towards his office. "Come on, I have something to show you."
Jenks paused long enough to dump a steady stream of sugar and creamer into his cup. Grabbed a plastic stirrer. Twirled it idly in the light brown liquid as he followed her into his office.
"Is Allen joining us?" Wells asked. Removed her coat to reveal an open red sweater over a white turtleneck. Long black skirt.
"No," Jenks said. Lowered himself back into his chair. Kept his hands clasped around the warmth of the cup. "This isn't an official budget meeting, so I didn't invite him. Seemed foolish to spend the money."
"Not like he contributes much anyway."
"Or anything at all," Jenks added.
Wells smiled at the comment. Said nothing. Reached into her bag and pulled out two printouts.
Extended one to Jenks. Kept the other for herself.
Jenks accepted it from her and dropped it onto the desktop. Leaned forward over his coffee, staring down at the numbers.
"What am I looking at?"
The smile grew from small to Cheshire cat on Wells face. "I could wait here and let you figure it out, but I'll just cut to the chase. Check out the very bottom line on the page. Highlighted in yellow."
Jenks' scanned to the bottom of the page. Instantly he found what Wells was referring to.
His eyes bulged at what they saw.
"Is that...that can't be true, can it?"
"I...it must be," Wells said. "Came in sometime overnight."
Jenks felt his mouth go dry. He stared hard at the number, praying it wasn't a mistake, fearing it might be.
"Any idea from where?"
"Not yet," Wells said. "I can only access our ledger during non-business hours. Once the banks open I'll get a full list of transactions."
"Hmm," Jenks said, still staring in disbelief.
"I think we have a fairly good idea of where it came from though."
"Well, yeah," Jenks agreed. "I mean, I know they said they would take care of us. I just wasn't expecting a quarter of a million dollars to show up the very next day."
Wells leaned back in her chair. Made no attempt to hide the pleasure on her face. "We should have called those guys long ago."
"Does that even make a dent in what we n
eed right now?"
The question did nothing to dampen her optimism. "No, but they're aware of our situation here. If they can get that to us within a day, they'll have the rest here before long."
Jenks looked from Wells back to the form in front of him. Did his best to try and dismiss the sinking feeling in his stomach.
"You don't look pleased," Wells said.
Jenks eyes shot up. His face relayed embarrassment.
"No, it's not that. Lord knows we need the cash.
"I just can't help but wonder what strings come attached to it."
Chapter Seventeen
Raquel kept her hand firmly affixed to the inside of Hector's arm. The faux smile in place on her face.
Every few minutes she reclined her head and laughed. Sent a plume of white away from her face. Pulled herself tight and rested her head on Hector's shoulder.
For his part, Hector smiled repeatedly. Shook his head in good-natured amusement. Reached across his body and patted her arm ever-so-softly.
Not once did either of them stop surveying their surroundings.
To the world, they were just another lovesick pair out for a stroll. Wandering aimlessly through the even grid of streets in the university district, they could have been a young couple looking to buy.
A visiting adjunct professor and their partner seeing what the area had to offer.
Maybe even a pair of graduate students just out for a break from the library.
Nobody gave them a second glance as they strolled by. A few folks even waved. One nice lady went as far as to introduce herself and her cocker spaniel to them.
What those people didn't notice was the way their eyes never stopped moving. Scanned every fence, every dog, every ADT sign positioned in yards.
Watched how many people were out on foot. How much automobile traffic wandered by.
The way sound carried in the cold autumn air.
"What do you think?" Raquel asked. Smiled. Looked longingly up at Hector.
Hector pursed his lips. Tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating some major question. "You know how I am. If something appears too easy, I immediately smell a trap."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning this looks like the easiest damn job we've ever considered."
Raquel laughed on cue. Pulled away a few inches and used the space to push back into him. "I was thinking the same thing. I keep feeling like we've missed something, but we don't miss things.
Dead Peasants (Zoo Crew series Book 2) Page 6
