"Where's the other guy?" one of them asked and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"He should be right out. He’s running some final checks as we had a slight fuel problem," he responded and glanced at the aircraft while he kept the man in his peripheral vision and waited.
A quarter of a second later, the truck driver looked at the helicopter, his suspicion apparent, and moved his gaze away from Jack, which provided the window of opportunity he needed.
He drew the pistol in an instant and the crack when it fired was a little louder than he would have liked. Even shooting from the hip, he couldn't have missed the headshot from three yards away. The man's head snapped back and the rear exploded outward as it had no helmet to keep the bullet in.
The red spray was too easy for his partner to see, even if he didn't hear the gunshot, and he jumped back instinctively. His gaze shifted to the vehicle he was supposed to be driving and possibly where he had left a weapon he could return fire with. He wasn’t trained in any kind of combat, and he turned quickly to sprint toward the truck.
Jack took a deep breath, grasped the weapon with both hands, and raised it to where he could look down the sights. He held his hands steady and squeezed the trigger.
A single shot was followed by another in quick succession. The driver's legs suddenly gave beneath him and blood spattered across the concrete. The operative took a few steps closer but kept the man in his sights. He was still alive, but barely. One final shot ensured that he would not get up again.
Despite an instinct to gloat over the fact that he still had it, he didn't stay. He remained a decent field operative and the thought brought renewed confidence as he turned and moved to the helicopter. It took him a few seconds to find the two crates that had been marked for him, and after a few seconds of prying, they opened.
A man and a woman were inside the crates, unconscious and curled to fit. He had no idea how they had gotten inside and who had sealed them in or if that had happened automatically, but their vital signs still looked good. He withdrew two syringes from his flight suit and injected them both in quick succession.
It took only a few seconds for the chemicals to take effect, and they sat immediately, coughed, and threw up over the edges of their crates.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Jack said wryly.
"That sucked," the woman stated, rubbed her eyes, and tried to stretch her aching limbs.
"I remember the going-under cocktail, and let's say I'm glad to not have used it more than once. Come on, we need to load everything including the bodies on the trucks and get going. There’s no time to waste."
Despite the fact that the unsavory effects of the drug cocktail they had taken were still wearing off, they hurried into action. The agents knew full well that their lives depended on them moving out, and quickly.
They were in the home stretch and in Jack's experience, it was the time in an operation when the most people were killed. They could see the light at the end of the tunnel, lowered their guard, and made mistakes. He was there to make sure nothing like that happened to his new team.
Chapter Seventeen
“The fight is a thing of the past,” Paulie said and waved expansively with his cigar, which remained unlit. His Hawaiian shirt boasted an eclectic and somewhat garish combination of bright colors that only he could have carried effectively. “It would appear that there are many in our ranks who are not impressed with our young and ambitious don.”
“Are we to assume you are not among them?” Lucio asked mildly, his tone at odds with the scowl he directed at his cards.
Marcel studied him for a moment and registered the challenge in the words which their plump companion seemed to have missed, given his grin.
He decided to push a little. It would at least provide a distraction from the appalling hand he held. “I thought you said you would support the famiglia,” he said with a suitably neutral expression.
“Well, yes. Of course, but—”
“So you didn’t bet on Marino’s men? What about the backlash you were so concerned about?” He allowed a trace of derision to color his tone, but the man seemed impervious.
Paulie merely chuckled and took a moment to finally light his cigar. “Never let it be said that I am not loyal,” he said, his expression smug and even triumphant. “I put a sizeable amount on the losers—sizeable enough to enable me to be suitably dismayed when I lost but not sufficient to affect my earnings from the underdog in any significant way.”
Lucio erupted with real amusement. “You played both sides? And Marino thinks you lost?” The old man shook his head. “I didn’t think you had it in you, amico.”
The plump man snorted and regarded them both with a devilish smile. “Ah, old friend, you wound me. How do you think Philly has flourished under my leadership for all these years?” He gestured to his shirt and grinned unashamedly. “I didn’t think you’d be so easily fooled by the outward trappings. All this serves its purpose, however. As far as that young upstart is concerned, I am an overweight fool who dresses badly. He is quite happy to believe my loyalty has been proven by my loss.”
He took a drag of his cigar and Marcel instinctively waved the cloud of smoke away from his face.
“So you used intermediaries,” he stated and grinned at the notion that Marino had no clue about the deception. “Very sly, Paulie.”
“No more so than either of you,” the man retorted and Lucio laughed again.
“True. You have us there, amico. Both Marcel and I made sure to cover our bases with the don while we smile happily all the way to the launderers with our winnings.”
“I wonder how many others did too,” Marcel commented and raised his glass in a mock toast.
“Who cares?” The older man shrugged and focused on his cards. “Marino, by all accounts, was not so careful and backed his men—or so I believe, but one never knows. If others were too stupid to hedge their bets effectively…well, if nothing else, it means more people who have resentment toward the young upstart.”
“Very true,” Paulie agreed. “Life is a strange sequence of events. You never know when something might come back to bite you. For now, the family supports him. Tomorrow? Things could change for better or worse. I, however, shall watch what transpires from a very comfortable position and enjoy the fact that Marino inadvertently provided me with the additional means to do so.”
“Yes.” Marcel raised his glass again and Lucio chuckled. “He might not be liked, but he certainly is useful.”
Taylor had known they’d be back at the plane and the airstrip. It was inevitable, he reminded himself as he tried to adjust to what, for once, felt like an intrusive reality. While it had certainly not felt like a short time since Niki had stepped off the same plane, he still felt like the time had ended too soon.
"What do you think?" Bobby asked.
He frowned at the question and turned his attention to his companion. "Think about?"
"The footage I sent you yesterday. From the training? You know, the one we had without you because you were ‘recovering?’"
The air quotes showed there was no chance the man meant anything other than the fact that he was well aware Taylor had spent most of the past couple of days at Niki's hotel.
Still, they were both adults, and his friend knew full well that he spent all that time recovering as well as engaging in other activities that were known to help in physical rehabilitation.
"Well, we won't talk about my recovery—which is still ongoing, mind you," he replied and folded his arms firmly in front of his chest. "But from what I was able to see on the footage you took for me, they still have issues with their mechanics and techniques. But it’s better than tripping over their own feet like they did before, and that's considerably better than you or I were at when we first headed out into the Zoo, so…you know, progress."
Bobby smirked. "Yeah, well, we ended up being the beneficiaries of a Darwinian system. Too many people died while you and I survived long
enough to learn from our mistakes."
"Sure," he muttered. "It's not like I think about that every second I'm alive and they aren't. My point is, I think we could spend months training them but the only way they'll get it right is if they are in the thick of it and have to do it. We taught them the mechanics and they have to put them into action themselves."
"Are you talking about my boys?" Niki asked as she stepped up behind them. "I think they've progressed since we started. They might need a few more pointers, but that's true of almost anyone, right?"
"Are we simply forgetting that you were a part of that training too?" Taylor asked.
"And the fact that you…uh, skipped the last two days of training?" the mechanic added.
She rolled her eyes. "I was helping Taylor with his…ahem, recovery."
"Sure you were."
"Grow the fuck up, Bungees," she snapped. "But yeah, I may have missed out on the last two days of training and I'll have to make up for it another time. Besides, I already had some training with the suits, so my problem was never with the mechanics but with my stamina. I think Taylor and I worked on that even while he was recovering."
Taylor coughed. "Yeah, Bobby's the one who needs to grow up."
She grinned. "What? Are you not the kind of guy who kisses and tells?"
"I'm fairly sure that's not the point."
Her smile faded as her gaze turned to the forklifts that carried the suits onto the plane. He didn't need any special insight to know that he looked at a woman who felt a little nervous even though she delivered enough bluster to get people to stop giving her shit.
While he wouldn’t comment on it, he also couldn’t pretend it wasn't there either.
Maxwell jogged to where they stood and still looked a little the worse for wear. Taylor knew Bobby hadn't taken it easy on them in his absence, and the man was a little stiff in the legs, although he was still able to almost commit to a run.
"We're ready to go," he announced and looked around like he hoped he hadn’t interrupted something important.
Taylor did note that the bodyguard refused to look him directly in the eye like he had before. Alpha male types like Maxwell tended to visually challenge anyone of a similar size. It wasn't because he was an asshole and was more out of instinct, but it was gone now.
"Do we have work waiting for us?" Niki asked.
"Tons of it. The other team has worked in our absence, but they delegated to the FBI team when they took on more than they could deal with."
"Smart.” She nodded. “I guess I should give it to the team. They do know what they're doing."
Taylor smirked. "Should I feel jealous? Are you seeing teams other than mine?"
"You knew I wasn’t a one-team gal when you got involved with me." She patted him on the shoulder and stood on her tiptoes to place a light kiss on his lips. "Feel better, okay? And try not to get into any fistfights with the mob while I'm gone."
"I'll try. You be safe out there."
"Of course." She smiled and gave him a slow wink before she turned to where Jansen and Maxwell waited for her. "Let’s get this show on the road! We've been lollygagging long enough."
They scrambled aboard and moments later, the plane taxied away and took off. Taylor couldn't tear his gaze from it until it was little more than a speck on the horizon before it vanished easily into the clear Nevada skyline.
"You two are cute together, I won’t lie."
He looked at Bobby, who still had an annoying grin playing across his face as he watched him closely.
"Yeah, we are very cute," he admitted. "It's not a perfect situation, I guess, but it's about as good as either of us are allowed to expect. Which is damn good, now that I think about it."
"Is that how she feels?"
"I think so. I won't speak for her on the matter, but she's the kind of gal who would tell me if something made her unhappy. I wouldn't say she would simply settle for good enough either."
His friend nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. And again, you two seem good together. Looking out for each other like that is fucking adorable."
"Yeah, well, let's get into the ring—you and me for a little more sparring, and I'll remind you how adorable I am."
"Hard pass."
Taylor grinned as they moved to where Liz was parked. "Are you sure? We could simply practice our grappling and ground game. It would be like cuddling, but there's a winner."
"Hard. Pass." Despite his words, Bobby tried to hold back a laugh as he climbed into the shotgun seat. "Besides, Elisa, Tanya, and Vickie need work on handling their suits. They're better at getting them prepped and cleaned than the others, but there's still work to be done there."
He nodded. "Agreed. Do you think we should get to it?"
"I think everyone needs a little time to recover. Besides, we have real work that needs attention at the shop."
The man was right, and he was more than happy to spend the next couple of days working on the suits they already had waiting for them. "Okay, it sounds like a plan. I've missed having nothing better to do than work on suits. You know, the reason we opened the shop in the first place."
Niki settled into the seat as the plane ascended. The pilot had filed a flight plan to take them to Jacksonville, but he had already been warned that they could expect possible changes depending on the intel that came in to them.
"So, we're looking at two potential situations," Jansen explained and displayed both as files on the TV screen for the three of them to look at. "We have a cluster of sightings in Yellowstone that have caused the Park Rangers to close it to visitors until it's been verified and resolved. The official story is that there is a spill of some kind, but they are investigating the possibility of cryptids involved with the death of a group of hikers. The bodies were found, and as you can see…it's not pretty."
Niki grimaced when the pictures of the bodies flicked across the screen. They were all crime scene photos, taken professionally, and her stomach churned a little with every picture. It looked like the kind she used to send to Taylor when she still worked with the FBI.
Oddly enough, she didn't miss those days. She preferred examining financial statements, scientific documents, and other paperwork in an effort to intercept these situations before they happened.
"Send those to our FBI contacts," she suggested and leaned back in her seat. "They should deal with situations when something out there is already a little out of control and might not even be cryptids. Tell them that if they need extra resources, I'll contact Taylor's team to step in and help them."
"Will do." Jansen had already moved on to the next file selection. "We have another couple of sightings but no bodies out on the Texas Panhandle. A couple of authorized labs are in the area, which is known for their less-stringent safety requirements. The local legislators call their practices 'business-friendly,’ and have refused to raise their regulations to the federal standards. These guys have the right kind of fingers in the right kind of pies in Washington, which is how they got their contracts. It’s a prime situation for us to step into."
Niki nodded. "Okay, let's get to work. Subpoena their records. It shouldn't be a problem since they've left themselves open to federal investigation by taking those contracts. Compare what we get from them to whatever paperwork they submitted when they claimed those projects."
He nodded. "I’m already working on it. Oh, there…there was something else."
She raised an eyebrow. "Our kind of thing?"
"Without a doubt, but at the same time, not really. An old friend from my days in the Navy messaged me to say he has an inkling of another situation developing."
"You mean to say you had friends before you and I started working together?" Maxwell delivered the sarcasm quite well, but she could detect a hint of genuine feeling behind it.
Jansen smirked. "Way back when. He was a helo in those days and he went into military intelligence. He's working at the DIA now and he told me about a cryptid situation he's looked into over
the past couple of months. It seems to have come to a head over the last two days."
"Do we have the details on it?"
"It appears that someone's been repurposing an old military base into a lab facility, and they've brought numerous scientists, resources, and all that bad shit. Over the last few days, it became clear that they were importing biological items that originate from the Zoo."
Niki narrowed her eyes. "That sounds exactly like our kind of thing. Why aren't we already on it?"
"Because the military base in question is on an island about a hundred and twenty kilometers off the coast of Algeria."
"I—wait, did you say the coast of Algeria?"
"Yep."
"Okay, just making sure that you did, in fact, say the word 'coast' followed by the word 'Algeria.'"
"You've got it on the nose, boss."
Niki scowled. "I don't want to be that kind of government operative, but that is way out of our jurisdiction. And when I say way, I mean all the fucking way out. The last time I tried to run an operation outside the confines of the US, I was fucking dropped out of the FBI for breaking about fifteen different international laws."
"Sure," Maxwell replied. "But being dropped out of the FBI ended up with you falling into our little operation, so I guess you could say you fell upward?"
Niki shrugged. "Anyway, I'll need to talk to Speare about us getting involved with that, so if your friend is looking for immediate help, I'd suggest you sound apologetic but not overly so."
Jansen nodded. "Understood. I'll keep an eye on the situation as it develops too, just in case. This has the possibility of going very badly, very quickly. Many people have theorized the kind of damage the Zoo's goop can do if it's exposed to our planet's ocean in concentrated amounts. There's something about an island that's asking for something to go badly in a colossal way."
"Agreed." She rubbed her chin gently and scowled as she considered the frightening possibilities. "Keep me informed of any updates on the situation."
Monster In Me (Cryptid Assassin Book 8) Page 14
