by Dawn Ryder
“Then again,” Ricky stressed, “hopping the fence did the trick for me. Those Shadow Ops teams have a lot of resources. Want me to introduce you to a guy I know? One who can fix your passport so you can enter your golden years without a single blip?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do that,” Ricky added. “That prick has you shooting at a grandma … We used to take jobs worth doing. There is only so much money you can spend, and it’s a lot sweeter to do it with legitimate papers. But the deal is only on the table so long as Miranda is alive.”
Pullman grunted on the other end. “Like I said … I’m getting tired of the crap. I’ll call you later. Maybe.”
Ricky chuckled as the line cut. Pullman wasn’t going to let him think he would jump at his bait like a hungry trout. No, image was everything in their line of work. No client paid for a hitman who didn’t have a reputation of being willing to face the fire when a job called for it. It was a mean, ugly business, contract killing. Pullman had put bullets through the skulls of more than one family member who had the bad luck of being around when he caught up with his target.
Kagan wasn’t going to like giving him a passport.
Ricky didn’t sweat it though. In fact, he whistled as he selected a different prepaid phone to use to call the section leader.
* * *
Kagan contemplated his options. As far as operations went, this one was sticky. It wasn’t without its rewards, however.
Pullman had been hired by Carl Davis.
Proving it was going to be tough. Ricky Sullivan had rolled over but Kagan doubted he’d get so lucky with Pullman. Cases were never that simple.
Of course, he specialized in tough cases.
He checked his watch, calculating the time it would take to get Thais to a marine base. He needed to shake Pullman up, get the guy to make a move. Turning toward his computer, Kagan punched in a note on the open warrant for Thais Sinclair, changing the status to “in custody.”
He indulged in a rare grin before he signed out and waited to see if Carl’s people made the mistake of rattling Pullman’s chain.
* * *
“That’s not my problem,” Pullman growled. “I took the contract for a hit. Helping you frame someone for it, that’s a whole different thing. It’s not my problem. I do wet work only.”
“You’d better adjust your scope of thinking,” Eric informed him. “And get the job done now, before they get Thais onto a marine base.”
“You don’t tell me when to take the shot,” Pullman said with a hiss. “Told you so right up front. I know my business, you don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t need to hire my services because you could do your own killing.”
“Miranda is out in the open right now,” Eric said. “Are you telling me you can’t get the job done?”
“She’s attending an event with over ten thousand people,” Pullman answered. “I will get her next week. Already have the scene picked out. Better odds of making a clean kill.”
“What if we want it done today?” Eric asked.
“You’ll get caught,” Pullman answered. “This isn’t my first contract. You wanted me because of my experience. I’ve already pinpointed the best opportunity. Wait for it or get someone else.”
Pullman killed the call.
He was too old for this shit.
Another rich man who wanted more power and didn’t have a scrap of a conscience. Not that Pullman claimed any hint of morality himself.
But he knew his business.
Ricky’s words and carefree tone rose from his memory. It was tempting. In fact Pullman picked up his phone and dialed his fellow hitman.
“I want to talk about the deal.”
* * *
Eric listened to the dial tone for a long moment. He gritted his teeth as he punched the disconnect button on the screen and shoved the phone into his pocket.
Carl looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow in question. Secure in the little office on board their private plane, it had been the only place to have a conversation with Pullman. They spent more time in the air than on the ground as Carl tried to attend as many events as possible in order to hold on to his lead in the polls.
But the gap between him and Tom Hilliard was growing smaller.
“Pullman insists on waiting,” Eric said, sharing the information.
Carl wasn’t pleased.
“He said to get someone else if we didn’t like his answer and hung up,” Eric continued, cutting Carl off.
Carl sat forward. “He’s getting out of our control.”
“Agreed.” For the record, Eric had always thought getting a hitman was too dangerous. So he wasn’t going to quibble over how Carl came around to letting him silence Pullman.
“With Thais Sinclair in custody, better to let the entire matter go,” Eric advised.
“You’ve been against this since the beginning,” Carl said with a snarl. “I want that bitch dead.”
“At the cost of the election?” Eric asked.
“When she goes,” Carl explained, “the fence hopping will begin. There are key players who feel safe standing against me because Miranda and her family name are against me. When I take her out, the message will be clear: I’m the man they’d better make happy. Call him back and tell him I’ll wait.”
Carl watched as Eric dialed.
“We agree to your time line. Final payment will be made when I get confirmation the target is down. There’s a bonus if you get it done sooner rather than later. One large enough to cover your risk.”
Carl was smirking when Eric disconnected the line.
* * *
“Thais is safe, got her stashed with an old buddy of mine.”
Dunn stood up. He didn’t get surprised often and having Kagan call out of the blue was certainly unexpected.
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Dunn replied. “Your buddy has people he trusts. People you don’t know.”
“Fair enough,” Kagan replied. “But this buddy, he’s got a good reputation of not being a man to cross. Anyone stupid enough to try it won’t give Sinclair too much trouble.”
Dunn’s lips twitched. “Alright. What’s next?”
“Assuming I won’t remind you of your civilian status?” Kagan asked.
“You wouldn’t waste your time calling me if that was the game plan,” Dunn replied. “I’m a resource, one you understand the value of.”
Dunn wasn’t going to mince words. There would be those out there who would warn him to steer clear of Kagan and the entire Shadow Ops world. Maybe he would even listen if his mother and Thais weren’t involved.
“I’m granting you a badge,” Kagan said. “Under Shadow Ops. I want you next to Miranda. She’s as stubborn as you are. Get her on board.”
“What about Thais?”
“Sinclair is more trouble than any sell-out new private can handle,” Kagan remarked. “Trust me, my buddy weeds out the weak ones. His marines are pure. That’s why I had her taken where she is. The base is a weapons station. A top-secret facility is hidden beneath the surface. New arrivals don’t get a whiff of what really goes on there until they prove themselves. Sinclair is secure. Your mother, on the other hand, is giving her escort grief and putting herself at risk. Time to pull rank on her. Pick up your credentials when you arrive.”
Dunn grinned. Not many men surprised him.
Kagan had.
Kent was watching him.
“I think I was just drafted,” Dunn responded. “My first duty is to get a handle on my mother.”
Kent lifted his hand and made the sign of the cross over Dunn. “Placing my bet on your mum.”
Dunn powered down his laptop and packed. Two weeks ago he’d left his home intent on getting to Miranda.
She was still vastly important to him, and yet, he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit how reluctant he was to place distance between Thais and himself.
It was more than he bargained on for certain.
So what do you
want to do about it?
Dunn decided he wasn’t going to answer the question. He had a pressing matter to attend to, the same one he’d left his personal business affairs behind to deal with.
The problem was, his mind wasn’t willing to drop it. His mind was offering up the way Thais had peeled his layers off just as expertly as he had hers.
Why in the hell had he told her about Rhianna?
It wasn’t just the betrayal that made him banish the woman from his memory. No, it was the sting of the humiliation. His grandfather had been the one to unmask her. Sitting so quietly as Dunn had listened to the recordings of his beloved as she crowed to her mother about how tightly she had Dunn under her control.
The lies.
The manipulation.
It was all Dunn held on to from their relationship. He wanted to remember what he represented to women.
A prize.
Thais was pushing him away.
Was it just the allure of the woman who refused to be enamored with his wealth? Possibly. And yet, he found himself absorbed with getting back to her so he could see what happened when they both shed the rest of their remaining layers.
Maybe that was the same bullheadedness that had landed him in trouble before. But just maybe he didn’t want to live with the alternative.
His pride wasn’t worth as much as his need to see Thais again.
* * *
Ricky hated the desert.
The dry, brittle vegetation looked like death to him. Give him Ireland with its rain and mud any day.
But Pullman had called the meeting place. As far as that went, Pullman was smart. Ricky walked down a path, turning around a corner, and the dry, dusty ground let him know that no one else had been along the same path.
The sparse vegetation made sure Ricky could see for miles, too.
Out in the distance, he could hear the traffic on the interstate. Somewhere between Las Vegas and Southern California, there were more abandoned structures than anyone knew about. Ricky leaned against the wall of what had once been a gas station.
A little service station that had been abandoned in favor of larger structures that offered motorists more services or, at least, more than one bathroom. Twenty-eight miles up the road there was an off-ramp with five service stations and several fast-food places. The little abandoned station had been choked by it. Now, the outside was a mass of graffiti and wind whistled in through the broken windows.
But Pullman knew what he was doing because there was a thick layer of dirt on the floor, letting Ricky know that he was still very much alone. He heard Pullman coming down the two-lane road. Somewhere off in the distance, there were a couple of trailer homes on plots of land where people who wanted to be alone lived. The car came around the side of the service station and the engine cut off.
Ricky stayed inside. Pullman was calling the shots. It wasn’t the most dangerous thing he’d ever pulled in his life but Ricky had a newfound awareness of life these days. Staying inside, waiting for Pullman to appear was making him sweat. Pullman might just want to plug up a leak by killing him because Ricky had guessed who hired him.
“You came alone,” Pullman said from the doorway. The sun was starting to set. It was near blinding behind Pullman, making it hard to see his face until he walked inside.
“I don’t remember you and me having a problem,” Ricky replied. “Last time I saw you, a good job came my way because of you. Why do you think I was willing to help you?”
Pullman offered him a shrug before he came farther into the building. He was leaner than the last time they’d met. His face almost gaunt. He had on a duster coat, his hands shoved deep into the pockets.
Ricky grinned, enjoying wearing only a T-shirt and jeans. “You look like a fucking grim reaper, man.”
Pullman’s lips twitched but Ricky wouldn’t really call it a grin. No, there was too much of a soulless look in the guy’s eyes.
Hell, Ricky really needed to thank Kagan for turning him away from the hitman lifestyle.
“Retirement is good,” Ricky offered. “The golden sort of retirement.”
Pullman sniffed. “You’ve got your head up your ass if you really believe you can just settle into life without looking over your shoulder. It doesn’t work that way.”
Ricky pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on. “If that’s how you feel, why did you waste my time with this meeting?”
“You reached out to me,” Pullman answered.
“True.” Ricky closed the distance between them a little. “Couldn’t help but try to save your ass when I saw you offering pictures of the Shadow Ops’ next location. Guess I remember our relationship differently. Sure didn’t think you’d pull a dick move like having me drive out to nowhere for nothing. I actually got you a passport.”
“It will be worthless once Carl Davis shuts down the Shadow Ops teams,” Pullman argued. “Help me do this job and Carl will take care of us.”
“Oh, that’s the deal, is it?” Ricky stepped a little closer as he smiled brighter. “Want me to switch sides?”
“You’re a hitman,” Pullman replied. “It’s not personal. Sign on now or Carl will hunt you down along with Kagan’s teams.”
Cat popped into Ricky’s mind.
In the next moment, Ricky was twisting and shoving a knife up into Pullman’s diaphragm. Blood coated his hand as he twisted the handle of the blade and pulled it free to let Pullman bleed out. With his diaphragm punctured, Pullman was gasping like a fish yanked up onto land. He was grasping for the gun he had in his pocket, trying to pull it free but Ricky had beguiled him too well, slipping too close for retaliation.
The dry desert dirt soaked up the blood as Ricky wiped his hand on Pullman’s shirt and shook his head.
“Sorry, man, but it is very personal to me.”
He contemplated Pullman’s body for a moment before he dug a burner phone out of his pocket and dialed Kagan.
“Report,” Kagan said when he answered.
* * *
Ricky wasn’t a stranger to killing.
He was unaccustomed to hanging around the scenes of his work though.
The traffic on the interstate was a low rumble that just continued through the night. The wind was continuous as well. He heard the SUV as it started to head his way. Early in the predawn light, Ricky peeked out of a hole in one of the pieces of plywood over what had once been a window. Saxon and Vitus Hale hadn’t lost any of their impressive conditioning. They got out of the vehicle almost in the same moment the engine turned off.
He made sure he slid into the doorway slowly. Unlike Pullman, Ricky didn’t think either of the Shadow Ops agents would make the mistake of letting him dazzle them with his chatter while forgetting he was a hitman with an impressive kill record.
Saxon aimed a hard look at him, his grim expression making it clear the agent wasn’t happy to be working with him. He crossed into the station as Vitus made sure he kept Ricky in clear sights.
One wrong move and Ricky was sure Pullman would have company on the ground.
Saxon knelt down beside the body, pressing his fingers into Pullman’s neck before he shook his head. “He’d have been a lot more use to us alive.”
Saxon stood and sent Ricky a disgusted look. “Not that you’d understand that.”
Ricky raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t going to take Kagan’s deal.”
“We still needed him to confess to taking the hit on Miranda,” Vitus stated softly. “My fellow agent is in jail under suspicion of trying to kill her.”
“Think I’m a dumb shit for killing him?” Ricky asked.
Both agents weren’t expecting such a blunt question but they nodded.
“Know how I figured it was him?” Ricky gestured behind him to where Pullman’s body was. “He had pictures of your nest and was offering them to the highest bidder.”
There was a soft intake of breath from one of the Hale brothers. Ricky absorbed the sound as a little victory over their expertise.
“I know a thing or two about the business,” Ricky continued. “Also know a bit about your team and Miranda Delacroix. If Pullman had those pictures, it was because he was tracking her. I put it together. Not so much of a dumb shit after all.”
Vitus folded his arms over his chest. “Not bad,” the ex-SEAL remarked. “Not impressive, either.”
“I wasn’t finished,” Ricky cut back. “Pullman knew I had a deal with Kagan. He told me to switch sides or go down with you all. He’s one of the best. Slipping into the gutter is something Pullman sort of enjoyed. If I let him walk out of here, you wouldn’t have this…”
Ricky held up Pullman’s phone.
One corner of Vitus’s mouth twitched. Ricky enjoyed the hard-won victory as Saxon took the phone. “I can decode the auction site for the pictures of your nest and link it back to that phone. With a little luck, we might even get a link on where Pullman was stashing his pay.”
“You can do that?” Saxon questioned.
Ricky shrugged. “Just get the press to think she’s dead, and wait for the final payment to be transferred.”
He snapped his fingers.
Vitus and Saxon exchanged a look.
“I still don’t like you,” Vitus said as he turned and headed back to the SUV.
“Neither do I,” Saxon added before his brother returned with a body bag.
Ricky started to argue about how his childhood had been a piss pot but he realized he didn’t much care anymore just why he’d been on the road he’d taken in life.
How he could have so very easily ended up like Pullman. The little shell of a gas station filled with the sound of a zipper being opened before the Hale brothers lifted the body and placed it inside the body bag. They scooped up the dirt that was stained with blood and dumped it on top of the body before zipping the bag up.
No, he didn’t give a rat’s ass for what he’d thought he was doing before. All that matters was how he could use his knowledge to ensure he got to go back to Ireland and Cat.
Oh, and making his mum proud. He liked that thought a whole lot. Funny thing was, she’d told him he’d thank her one day for trying to teach him right from wrong. He’d been too young, too immersed in his own view of the world to agree with her. Funny how life had let him live long enough to wise up. Because he sure as shit didn’t deserve it.