Final Target: Six Assassins Book 6

by Heskett, Jim

  Once they were in the alley and largely out of view, she said, “I wanted to say thank you again for helping me out last week. It meant a lot that you were able to hold off the Euro-brute while I removed my friend from harm.”

  Kevin had no reply, only stood statue-like and scowling. He seemed to be bristling with energy. His biceps were flexed, keeping his arms at a strange angle. Neck tense, jaw set, he looked equally ready to start sprinting or close a fist and knock out a few of Ember’s teeth.

  “What can I do for you?” Ember asked.

  “You killed Fagan.”

  “Yes, and I understand you’re not happy about it. Look, I’m not happy about it. But it was either her or me, and I couldn’t let it be me. This whole black spot was illegitimate and outlawed by the Club long ago. Fagan knew that, but she still insisted on playing it out because of some stupid sense of duty. I didn’t want to kill her, Kevin. It’s the truth.”

  They’d already had this conversation once already, last night, before Ember had taken a walk of shame out of the Boulder Post Office. Kevin apparently didn’t feel like he’d received closure from it.

  His eyes darted back and forth over her face for a moment. Ember could feel it coming. Something was about to happen. Rather than clench her fists or widen her stance, she tried to remain still and calm and not reveal that she knew.

  Instead of a reply, he lunged forward. His right hand shot out, catching Ember by surprise, despite her anticipation of an attack. The jab smacked her on her chin. Ember stumbled back, amazed at the big guy’s speed. Her head thrummed with the aftereffects of the solid punch.

  “Stop,” she said as she raised her hands. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “You don’t know shit about me and what I want,” he said as he lunged again.

  This time Ember was ready for it. When Kevin spun and tried to build momentum for a backhand, Ember ducked down and shot a left at his kidneys. With one knuckle extended, she swung into his rock-hard torso, throwing everything she could into it. The punch connected, but Ember had forgotten all about the bullet wound on her lower neck, so the pain of exertion nearly made her black out. A couple of those stitches might have popped loose, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

  She pulled back, jumping a step out of his reach, and she pulled her left hand to her body so she wouldn’t be tempted to use it again and do more damage to her tender neck.

  Kevin paused, wincing. The punch had finally registered. But he didn’t seem deterred from striking again, so he heaved a breath and then leaped at her. Eyes wide, teeth bared, nostrils flaring. He seemed like he had no intention of quitting this battle any time soon.

  Ember pulled one leg back and put her arms out as Kevin lowered his head and rushed to close the slim space between them. Ember used his momentum against him. She grabbed onto his shoulders and scooted out of the way of his trajectory, then she added a push to make him flip. As his motion continued, he spun in the air and landed flat on his back. Martial arts had taught her to always use inertia and momentum as your allies. The biggest giants could be brought to their knees with only a flick of the wrist, if timed properly.

  He smacked the ground, eyes jumping open as the air rushed out of his lungs. Perfect. She’d bought herself a couple seconds to work with.

  Ember whipped one of her Enforcers out and then landed on Kevin. She used her knees to pin down his arms. She didn’t have the strength to keep him down for long. In another second, he would regain his breath and then toss her aside.

  She placed the gun under his chin. That earned his attention real quick and halted any plans he’d had.

  “Enough,” she said, panting. “I didn’t want to kill Fagan and I have no desire to kill you, either. Please don’t make me do this. I like you, Kevin. I’ve already killed one person I like this week, and I don’t want to have to do it again.”

  For the first time in several seconds, Kevin appeared capable of rational thought. He breathed, chest rising and falling underneath Ember. “This is your fault. All of this is your fault, Ember.”

  She kept her Enforcer pointed at his head, but she pushed her legs to rise, then she eased a step to the right, off his frame. She made sure to keep the pistol out of reach of his meaty arms. “I’d like to make it right if I can, but I’m not sure how.”

  “I don’t think you can make it right,” he said as he scooted back, away from her.

  “Maybe not. But when all of this is over, I hope you’ll know I tried.”

  Kevin grunted as he rose to his feet. He glanced at her trigger finger and then walked out of the alley.

  Chapter Twelve

  SERENA

  Serena Rojas swept her black hair out of her eyes as she squinted down at the sudoku puzzle. She had already used the 4, but it seemed like another 4 would work perfectly in this square. But, she couldn’t re-use the 4, so what was she supposed to do? Which one was wrong? Stupid sudoku. She hated it, and didn’t know why she repeatedly tried to pick it up time after time, as if this go-around, she might actually enjoy it.

  At the Bacon Social House restaurant in Denver, Serena sipped her coffee and nibbled at her sandwich while working on the puzzle. With a sigh, she dropped the newspaper and studied her coffee mug. This was a flavored blend, with hazelnut and vanilla or something like that. Not too shabby. The flavored coffee was like eating an organic banana; the regular version was fine, but sometimes, you want to feel like you’re treating yourself. Serena didn’t get to treat herself too often.

  She realized she wasn’t going to finish her sandwich, and she’d had enough caffeine for the day, so she placed some bills under the coffee mug and then retrieved her purse to leave.

  The pulsing coffee-buzz in her head and body made her feel hyper-aware, as if an extra layer existed over the real world. Her heart thumped, but she also felt calm. Any more caffeine and she would possibly puke her guts out. Serena knew her limits.

  On the way out toward the front door, something felt off. Her senses became attuned to all the conversations around her, hinting that an attack was imminent. Part of her wanted to blame the extra cup of coffee, but she knew better. The same thing had happened a few days ago when the FBI agent Isabel Yang had been killed by a sniper during their meeting with Layne Parrish.

  Serena had felt it, a split second before it had happened. But, she’d been too introspective in the moment, too distracted by all this back and forth about whether or not she would complete her mission and kill Ember.

  This mission in Denver, loaned out by her boss to Marcus Lonsdale, was the weirdest one she had ever taken as an operative for the US government. All of the secrecy and unreliable information had led Serena to a confusing endpoint where she had no idea who spoke the truth and who wanted to use her for malicious ends.

  As a result, Serena had dropped the ball, and now Isabel was dead. Not that she and Isabel were friends, but Serena respected her as a member of law enforcement. She respected her as someone who had gotten the best of her outside the house in Lyons on Halloween. She had respected Isabel as a woman playing a man’s game in a male-dominated profession. Serena knew that role well. And Serena sympathized with her as someone else who had been duped by Marcus Lonsdale, the architect of a lot of suffering lately.

  That’s why, the moment the bullet entered Isabel’s temple, Serena burst into action and chased after the sniper. The man fled down from the roof, running flat-out toward the wooden fence on the edge of the condo property. And while Layne chose to run straight at him, Serena rushed around the side of the condo, in case Layne’s pursuit made the man change course.

  He had changed course, then he’d tried to double back before Layne and Serena had him cornered in the slim alley leading off to the hotel to the south. And that’s where he had pulled the pistol and taken himself out, rather than allow himself to be captured.

  Everything had happened so fast, Serena hadn’t even seen the decision cross the man’s face. No hint. Without hesitation, he ate a bullet wit
hout so much as a frown to telegraph his intentions.

  Serena wasn’t used to failure like this. She hated being put in this position. Since taking over Layne Parrish’s spot on the operational team, she had always strived for perfection, and her record reflected as much.

  That’s why now, walking out of the restaurant, that feeling of dread still walked with her. It’s why she kept one hand in her purse, with her fingers around the grip of a pistol.

  And then, she saw him. Across the lot, sitting on the hood of a black BMW. As if her unease had conjured him out of thin air to fulfill the prophecy that something bad might happen today.

  The BMW wore Colorado plates, which told Serena this was a rental.

  Marcus smiled, handsome and rugged with a few days of stubble on his square jaw. He took a hand out of the jacket pocket of his wool coat and waved at her. His fingers curled in the air, giving a hint of a claw in his motion. Or, maybe Serena had imagined as much.

  “Have a minute?” he called across the parking lot, thirty feet away.

  Serena conducted a threat assessment and decided he had no ill intentions. Not physically, at least. He had no backup, no visible weapon, no hint of menace in his eyes.

  Above all, Serena did not want to reveal she knew the truth about Marcus, and how he had likely killed not only Isabel, but Ember’s friend Gabe Jackson.

  She crossed the lot and nodded at Marcus. “I didn’t know you were in Colorado. I thought we were going to debrief in Washington next week.”

  “Unrelated business,” he said. He slipped off the hood and took out his keys. “Want to talk in the car? It’s already warmed up.”

  Serena took a close look at the tinted windows, squinting to see inside. Only a quick glance, though.

  “I get that you and your kind are cautious,” Marcus said, “but, come on. Just give me five minutes to catch up.”

  She relented and approached the passenger side, still keeping her purse close. She slid into the seat and tossed a look behind her to make sure she wasn’t seconds away from receiving a piano wire around her throat. It wasn’t likely, but it was possible. Always possible.

  Marcus slid into the car with a grunt, keyed the ignition, and then put on the heater. He waved his hands in front of the vent. “Give it a minute.”

  “You said it was already warmed up.”

  “Yeah, but it’s cold as balls in Denver. I always hated wintertime here.”

  “You’ve spent time in Denver?”

  “My ex-wife. She’s got family in pockets all over Colorado. I try not to think about her, but here I am, in the humble land of her origin, so not much chance of pretending she doesn’t exist, right?”

  Serena shifted in her seat. “I suppose.”

  “Anyway, how goes the hunt? I haven’t heard anything from you lately.”

  “I’ve been calling your office and no one has passed you my messages, as I suspected.” She turned in her seat toward him and narrowed her eyes. “I need to ask you a question. It’s personal, but it’s important to operations here.”

  “Personal, huh?” he said as he grinned and cast a surreptitious look up and down her body. He wouldn’t get much from it, since Serena had opted for loose jeans and a heavy coat today. Still, his visual survey made her feel icky.

  “You had an affair with Allison Campbell, AKA Ember Clarke.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I’m good at my job.”

  Marcus’ grin vanished, and he cleared his throat. “You said you had a question. I’m not hearing one yet, so I hope that’s the next thing out of your mouth.”

  “Is this affair the reason I’m here, hunting her?”

  His lips swished back and forth for a couple of seconds as he studied Serena. “If you’re asking me if I have a personal stake in your mission, then, no. Is she the reason my marriage ended? Yes. But, if you think I sent you to delete her because I’m still in love with her or something like that, then you’ve underestimated me. It’s a lot more complicated than a case of simple revenge.”

  Serena tried to keep her face even, not showing a reaction. It was a well-spoken line, carefully crafted and properly rehearsed. Also, to Serena, it stank of bullshit. He most definitely had a personal stake in Ember’s downfall.

  “I see,” she said, and she met his eyes directly so he wouldn’t be focused on what her hands were doing. “Never been one to question orders, but the secrecy involved in this is unusual. I’d like to think I’m getting everything I need to accomplish my task.”

  “Reading you loud and clear, Serena. But your boss lent you to me because I needed someone who can handle ambiguity and secrecy without batting an eyelash. A no-questions-asked type. I’ve been told that person is you. Was I wrong?”

  “Not at all, Mr. Lonsdale.” Serena finished what she was doing with her right hand, and she gripped the door handle. “I’ll keep in touch and let you know when I’ve found her. I won’t bother you with anything trivial.”

  “Good. You do that. One more thing: I’m only going to be in town for a couple more days. Three or four at the most. I’d like to have this all handled while I’m still here, because I’m going to be incognito for a while after that.”

  “Understood.”

  She exited the car and strutted away as she lifted her phone from her purse and turned on the app. In a few seconds, it beeped as it contacted the tracker she had nestled underneath his passenger seat.

  Marcus drove away, and she watched the dot spark to life as it crawled along her little screen. Now, she only needed to tell Ember, and then they’d be in business.

  Chapter Thirteen

  EMBER

  Ember checked the status of her stitches in the rearview as she drove. Her neck ached, but as far as she could tell, the fight with Kevin in the alley hadn’t done any significant damage to the bullet wound. What hurt more were her hips and butt, after a strenuous session with Zach early this morning. The soreness hadn’t come on until about an hour ago. Maybe their combined peril stoked the passion, or maybe they were simply compatible. Whatever the reason, any time they were alone together these days ended up with them both sweaty and spent.

  In her lap, her phone sat with the screen up, a maps app with a blue dot blinking. The dot was traveling south of downtown Denver, around Centennial, headed toward Parker. Denver wasn’t one city, it was two-dozen cities and towns clustered in the flatlands an hour east of the mountains. Maybe that was why the founder of the DAC had seen fit to make the Branches take on geographical names like Boulder and Parker. Maybe choosing six locations among the multitudes gave the assassins a sense of belonging and community.

  Whatever his reasons, keeping a highly illegal organization like this running for more than five decades must have taken careful planning and foresight. Yes, there had been a few amendments to the original bylaws, a few course corrections. But the founder’s vision was mostly intact.

  Maybe, without Ember, a functioning organism like the DAC could have continued indefinitely. But she had no doubts that if it came crashing down, she had played some part in it.

  And she didn’t know how she felt about the Club’s demise. She both loved and hated the Denver Assassins Club, for reasons too numerous to pack into one coherent thought.

  The dot slowed at the edge of Centennial. Ember figured Marcus must have exited the highway, so she zoomed in on the app to guess which exit. With gritted teeth, she sped up to pass a meandering car and narrow the distance.

  She had been resting with Zach at the motel after their time this morning, discussing ways to take care of their Thomas and Helmut problem when the call had come in. Serena had met with Marcus face to face and had nestled a bug inside his car. Serena had been sparse on the details of why she’d been in such close proximity to him, but Serena could be like that. She spoke in short, crisp sentences, never offering more information than she was asked. At least, that’s how she was with Ember.

  Now, Ember exited I-25 at East County Line Road
, into a land of wide streets and clusters of strip malls. The dot had stopped moving a couple of minutes ago, about a half mile up. Only about three miles away from the Parker Branch Post Office. This must have been pure coincidence, because there was no reason for Marcus to know anything about Parker. At least, Ember assumed so. Back when Ember was acting solely as an FBI agent, she had given her handler reports about the DAC, which she’d assumed had landed on Marcus’ desk. Names, locations, dates of important movements. It was certainly possible that Marcus Lonsdale knew where the Parker Post Office was, but there was still no reason for him to go there.

  As Ember approached the dot, she saw a rug store at the end of a strip mall on the right side of the road. The dot looked to be behind it. She turned into the parking lot and creeped up toward the store, keeping a careful watch for an idling car in the area. Or anything else strange. No sense in taking things for granted these days.

  Ember donned her black baseball cap and tucked her hair up inside it. She was in a rental car, freshly chosen this morning, so she had no worries about Marcus spotting her vehicle. As far as she knew, no one had seen it and no one was following her today.

  Next, she took her two pistols and inserted them into the back of her pants, grunting against the pain in her neck as she moved. Her car came to a stop, and she gripped the steering wheel, one foot hovering above the gas pedal.

  Ember sat and waited, car running, nose pointed at the alley behind the strip mall. What could he be doing back there? She wanted to pull out one of her guns, but decided to wait.