Unstable Target: Six Assassins Book 3

by Heskett, Jim

  He clearly wasn’t who he claimed to be. He had skills Ember had only seen in some of the most highly trained assassins in the DAC. But he wasn’t in the Club, or she would know. Unless he was one of Parker’s dark members, but that didn't seem likely.

  Who the hell was this guy?

  Right now, it didn’t matter. Solving the mystery of Layne Parrish could wait for another day. Ember moseyed down to her condo and entered, dropping her purse and keys and guns on the table next to the front door. She glanced at the Sharpie she had set a little over the edge of the end table. It still pointed north, just as she had left it earlier, one of the simplest and most effective ways to spot an intruder.

  Tired legs carried her to the fridge, where she considered a glass of wine but decided on a Harp Lager instead. Her wrists and shoulders ached as she retrieved the cold bottle.

  On the couch, she sipped her beer and tried to get the image of the dead body of Gamma out of her mind. It wouldn't leave. Ember kept thinking the woman might still be alive if it weren't for her. She would still be Quinn's hostage, potentially, but alive. Or, maybe not. Quinn had been so unpredictable, and there was no way to anticipate his movements or strategy.

  Had he kidnapped those women solely as tools for this week, to use as leverage against Ember? Or, had he been taking women for years before this?

  Ember would likely never know, and she needed to find a way to be okay with that. She could alleviate some of the burden by thinking about the immutable fact that he would never do it again. He had died on the sidewalk, his skull cracked open by the blunt force trauma of meeting a giant delivery truck head-on.

  She slipped her phone out of her pocket and called Zach. It rang four times and then went to voicemail. She opted not to leave a message because she'd called him a few times already.

  If he wanted to talk, he knew where to find her. There was clearly something going on with him, but Ember didn’t want to push. If this distant-boyfriend treatment went on for too much longer, she would have to bring it up, though. But, for now, she would give Zach his space.

  Instead, she texted:

  Thinking about you. I miss you.

  Next, she called Gabe, and he picked up right away.

  “Thank God,” he said. “I was worried about you.”

  “I’m still here. Why do you sound different?”

  “I lost my phone, so I had to route my number to my laptop. Long story. I’ll have a new phone later today.”

  “What happened to you last night?”

  Gabe stammered for a second. “I was… I got held up. It’s not important. I’m just so sorry I couldn’t be there in time. I did show up, but that sicko tased me and left me there. I can’t believe I’m alive.”

  "I can. He didn't like boys. He had no reason to take a trophy or even to kill you. But it doesn't matter now. He's gone, and his last prize has been set free."

  Gabe was silent for a few seconds, and Ember thought over his strange hesitation to answer her question about why he’d been late last night. Why were all the men in her life acting so weird?

  "Anyway," she said, "I'm going to conk out and sleep for about twelve hours, if I can. Tomorrow, this all starts again."

  “I’m here for whatever you need.”

  “What I need, young Gabe, is for you to get a good night’s sleep, too. We have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for whatever comes next.”

  “Understood. I’ll do my best. Call me tomorrow.”

  Ember tossed her phone on the floor and drained her beer. Her eyes landed on the paperback copy of American Gods loaned to her by Zach, sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She thought about leaning forward to rest the empty bottle next to it, but she drifted into sleep before she could.

  Notes for “A History of the Denver Assassins Club”

  Part 3 of 6

  By Kunjal Anand

  There is an urban legend around the DAC that the term "Post Office" came from the supposition that the early headquarters for assassins were established so they could receive mail. There is no proof of this. The first Post Office—named so for some reason lost to history—was established by the man known as Unger in 1962. Many view this as the official founding date of the Denver Assassins Club, soon to be known to many simply as "The Club," or the DAC.

  Unger had floundered in Denver for a few years with false starts to accomplish his dream of forming an assassins’ union or guild. But, in 1961, he succeeded in recruiting a dozen local assassins. Unlike before, where the groups fell apart rapidly due to in-fighting and opportunism, Unger and his twelve followers seemed to coalesce into a strong unit. Strong enough that this time, they were able to recruit others. They treated it almost like a multi-level marketing organization, but without the profit motive to bring in others.

  By 1962, these original thirteen had brought in forty more. Assassins from other parts of the country and other parts of the world began to move to Denver, or at least purchase housing there to be close.

  It finally seemed to work.

  There is a long passage in Unger's notes theorizing on why it had worked this time when there had been so many failures and collapses before. Specifically, he attributed it to the US government's crackdown on organized crime in the United States over the late 1950s and early 1960s. He acknowledged that this seemed counterintuitive; that American mafiosos coming together had corralled them to make it easier for the US law enforcement agencies to knock them down like dominos. But, Unger's theory stated that until that time, most people—including assassins—hadn't known much about the mafia's existence. They hadn't seen demonstrated the power of organization. Unger believed by using the mafia's structure as both a blueprint and a cautionary tale, they could make something much stronger.

  Loyalty, secrecy, cooperation. Assassins bringing in others with the promise that the larger the group grew, the more they could establish a web. Size equalled power and stability.

  By 1963, Unger had recruited a hundred assassins to his cause. They began to split into smaller groups, known as “Branches” of the DAC’s tree. These groups would be autonomous in matters affecting their individual Branch, but they would agree to abide by all established laws of the DAC. As such, Unger drafted those laws before the groups could form their own, which he thought would lead to conflict.

  He and a crew of five of his original assassin devotees crafted a lengthy set of bylaws, with a focus on self-policing, unity, and accountability. When they were finished, anyone who wanted to remain in the Club consented, including taking a membership test and attending regular meetings to review the laws.

  The 1960s saw the DAC explode in clandestine popularity. It thrived under Unger’s careful eye. Everything seemed to be going well.

  But golden ages do not last forever.

  * * *

  THREE DOWN, THREE MORE TO GO.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN PART FOUR…

  Get the next book, CAPTIVE TARGET to continue the hunt today!

  A NOTE TO READERS

  Want to know to get books by Jim Heskett for free and learn more about Ember’s neighbor Layne Parrish?

  Take a gander at the Layne Parrish thriller novella Museum Attack.

  It’s Die Hard in a Denver Art Museum.

  Museum Attack is not for sale anywhere, but you can get it FOR FREE at

  www.jimheskett.com/readergroup.

  READY TO KEEP GOING?

  An assassin with a lethal grudge and a homemade prison. Can Ember escape this high-tech dungeon before it’s too late?

  Halfway through her six-week trial-by-combat punishment, contract killer Ember Clarke has had enough. Unfortunately for her, the newest assassin on her trail this week refuses to stop. And when Ember wakes up handcuffed in a magnetized holding cell, she knows she’s trapped.

  Desperate to earn her freedom, Ember tries everything she can think of to escape. But the walls are impregnable, and her captor has promised to kill her by the end of the week.

  Can Ember fin
d a way to flee this dangerous basement while there’s yet time?

  Captive Target is the fourth book in the adrenaline-fueled Six Assassins crime thriller series. If you like heroes in need of redemption, sinister twists and turns, and cliffhangers guaranteed to make you stay up reading past your bedtime, you’ll love Jim Heskett and Nick Thacker’s epic six-part tale. Book 4 of 6.

  Buy Captive Target to escape the dungeon today!

  Jim

  For youse guys.

  Nick

  For Jim.

  All material copyright 2020 by Jim Heskett and Nick Thacker. No part of this work may be reproduced without permission.

  Published by Bad Tooth Books, an imprint of Turtleshell Press

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  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  JIM HESKETT

  Jim Heskett writes stories about outsiders who fight crime.

  The author was born in the wilds of Oklahoma, raised by a pack of wolves with a station wagon and a membership card to the local public swimming pool. Just like the man in the John Denver song, he moved to Colorado in the summer of his 27th year. He's never looked back. Aside from a wild year traveling the world, he hasn't let the Flatirons mountains out of his sight.

  Jim fell in love with writing at the age of fourteen inside a copy of Stephen King's Carrie. Poetry provided his first outlet for teen angst, then later a smattering of mediocre screenplays, and eventually crime thriller fiction a la Elmore Leonard. In between, he worked a few careers that never quite tickled his creative toes.

  He hasn't ever forgotten about Stephen King.

  You can find him currently huddled over a laptop in an undisclosed location in Colorado, dreaming up ways to kill beloved characters.

  Finally, and perhaps most importantly, he believes the huckle is the king of berries and he refuses to entertain any arguments to the contrary.

  He writes award-winning crime thrillers seasoned with a dash of snark. Sometimes he writes these books with co-authors like Nick Thacker.

  Details and FREE, exclusive books at www.jimheskett.com

  NICK THACKER

  Nick Thacker is a thriller author from Texas who lives in Colorado and Hawaii, because Colorado has mountains, microbreweries, and fantastic weather, and Hawaii also has mountains, microbreweries, and fantastic weather. In his free time, he enjoys reading in a hammock on the beach, skiing, drinking whiskey, and hanging out with his beautiful wife, tortoise, two dogs, and two daughters.

  In addition to his fiction work, Nick is the founder and lead of Sonata & Scribe, the only music studio focused on producing “soundtracks” for books and series. Find out more at SonataAndScribe.com.

  For more information and a list of Nick’s other work, visit Nick online:

  www.nickthacker.com