Primary Target: Six Assassins: Book 1

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Primary Target: Six Assassins: Book 1 Page 15

by Heskett, Jim


  Or — she hated to admit it — he was here to finish what he’d started. Perhaps Xavier planned to have this guy take her down, injure her, then Xavier would swoop in and finish the job.

  She patted her pocket and found the outline of the Microtech Halo knife there. But, her Nighthawk Enforcer pistols were back in the car. The guy was wearing a heavy coat, so she couldn’t tell by sight if he was packing a gun. It was a safe bet to assume he was.

  Had Xavier sent these guys after her again? It would certainly be an unusual move. Given what she knew about her assassin, she had to assume Xavier would take great delight in being the one to pull the trigger on her. He must’ve known those three would not have been able to kill her last time.

  Maybe they didn’t like how she had so completely kicked their asses in the parking lot, and they were looking for a rematch. Either way, Ember didn’t want the attention right now. Besides, there were at least a dozen other shoppers within view. Any altercation here would have devastating consequences.

  She set the grocery basket on the floor and pointed her feet toward the exit. As she did, her phone rang. She’d expected to look down and see Zach’s number there, to ask her for a second date or to continue the sushi roll conversation, but instead, the screen showed a blocked number.

  As she exited the front doors of the King Soopers, she answered. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Ember.”

  She recognized Xavier’s tone right away. Even though they hadn’t spoken to each other for at least a year, there was no mistaking his voice. Wet like he needed to clear his throat, deep, and filled with crunchy pebbles.

  “Morning,” she said.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “You only grazed me, so I’m doing fine. It’s going to take more than that.”

  He chuckled. "Believe me; I have more."

  “That guy on your front porch last night, was he a friend of yours?”

  Xavier grumbled. “Hardly. He was a recruit. Terrible with a rifle, so I’m not sure why he even sought me out to be his mentor. His death won’t be recorded in the history books, but I’m grateful the kid stepped up to help keep me safe. Even though he largely failed, which I could have predicted. Still, gave me time to get away from you, so he served a purpose, didn’t he?”

  Ember opened her car door and stood with her keys in hand. She tossed a glance back to the front of the grocery store to make sure the Five Points guy wasn’t following her. “I don’t like killing people when I don’t have to.”

  “You seem to do it a lot, though.”

  She gritted her teeth. “That’s the difference between you and me. Why we do it.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong there, kid. There are a lot of differences between you and me. Chief among them is that you’re a relative newcomer in this industry. Yeah, you made some waves early on with some flashy kills.”

  “Flashy? I’m not chasing fame, Xavier.”

  "Maybe not, but I know when one of our own is an attention-seeker. And I know how you saved President Wellner's life a couple of years ago after a contract gone bad."

  Ember held her breath. No one was supposed to know about that. She waited to see what Xavier said next, because she had no intention of confirming or denying.

  “Well, it explains why Wellner didn’t just have you executed for your crime this time around. Whatever — I’m not complaining. I get how the back-scratching politics of the DAC works because I’ve been doing this for a few years longer than you. I know how the systems can be pointed this way or that, probably better than you ever would.”

  “Maybe so. I’ve got nothing to say about Club politics. If that’s what you called me to talk about, then I’m going to hang up now. I have things to do.”

  “I’m not done with you.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Then why don’t you tell me what you want?”

  “Only two days left in the first week of the black spot, and then you’re someone else’s problem, right?”

  “Are you giving me a pass?”

  He let out a hoarse and throaty chuckle. "Hardly. I just wanted to offer you the chance to meet me one-on-one to settle this. No more running around. No more games."

  “Bullshit. You know I would smoke you in a straight gunfight. If I showed up for an appointment with you, you’d have a kilo of cocaine stashed in the bushes nearby, and the DEA waiting to arrest me for it. So, quit playing games. What do you really want?”

  “I know you think you’re a hotshot. But, like I said, I’ve been doing this for a long time, Ember. I have more notches in my belt than you.”

  “So?”

  "I know better than to ask you to show me respect. But I'll get it from you, even if I have to forcibly take it.”

  She slid into the car, grimacing at the pain in her thigh. “And how do you plan to do that? You can’t seem to take me by surprise, and you won’t face me in the streets. Looks to me like you’re out of options.”

  “I’m not letting this go. Seven days. It finishes tomorrow.” He ended the call.

  Ember looked at the phone to make sure he had disconnected, and then she stared at her reflection in the darkened screen. "Sure thing, Xavier. We'll find out tomorrow."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  EMBER

  Ember set down the mug of tea in front of Fagan. The older woman’s one good eye drifted down to it, and she leaned forward to give it a whiff. Because of the burn marks to half her face, only one nostril flared as she sniffed. Fagan’s small house in north Boulder was simple and clean, with framed pictures of flowers hanging above a brown and black furniture collection. The general decor seemed dark and woody.

  “That smells amazing,” Fagan said.

  Ember picked up the mug and held it under her face, letting the steam warm her. “You should know. It’s your tea.”

  Fagan leaned back in the chair in the kitchen. “Nothing like tea to reset you and make you feel whole again. I tried yoga. Didn’t work for me. I’ll take a cup of hot tea and a quiet room to focus on breathing any day.”

  This was the first time Ember had seen her mentor in person since running into Isabel Yang in the parking lot yesterday.

  Since Agent Yang had materialized in front of her like a wasp, ready to sting.

  Ember had trouble looking Fagan in the eyes this evening. Or, at least, in her one functioning eye. Fagan had no idea about Ember’s true identity. None of them did. Not Fagan, or Gabe, or David Wellner, or any one of two hundred DAC members. If they did, Ember wouldn’t be alive right now. They would have tortured her to find out what she’d told the FBI, then put a bullet in her head, then burned her to ash and bone chips in the blazing fires of a crematorium.

  She had to hope Fagan and Gabe might not do such a thing, but, if the betrayal came out, no telling. She hoped they would never find out. Ember didn’t know if she could stand to be in the same room with Fagan when that happened.

  The sound of the heater kicked on, and they both turned their faces toward the vent, blowing air.

  “Getting colder,” Fagan said.

  “Yep. Sure is. Would you like to talk more about the weather?”

  Fagan frowned. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your wit.”

  "It's the only thing keeping me going. It's either that or wallow on the carpet in my living room surrounded by tissues, sucking snot, and wiping mascara off my cheeks. Comedy is great armor."

  “It can’t be easy to wake up every morning with six assassins on your trail.”

  “Six total, sure. But only one this week, and I don’t think he’s given me his best yet. I’d like to think it will get easier from here on out, but I’m not banking on it.”

  Fagan offered a grave look. “Don’t underestimate Xavier Montrose. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s always got something up his sleeve.”

  Ember tasted her tea. “So do I.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “A little switcheroo. Gabe is meeting me at the 29th Street Mall tomorr
ow.”

  Fagan held up a hand to cut off Ember. Then she wandered over to a desk next to the fridge. She retrieved a pen and a pad and tossed them on the table. "Draw the plan for me."

  Ember outlined a rough sketch of the walking mall. From end to end, it covered about a half-mile, from Home Depot at Arapahoe Street, up to the Target on the north end at Pearl Street. A brick road meandered through the center of the walking mall, with strip mall stores on either side. There were restaurants and clothing shops and a great fountain and escalators down to the movie theater and a massive multi-level parking garage. Ember made markings for all these locations. Then, she pointed at a spot to the west of the mall.

  “There are some larger buildings here, across 28th Street. Boulder has a city ordinance that doesn’t allow buildings taller than fifty-five feet, so this is as high up as he can get. And, given how Xavier likes sniper rifles, I figure this is the best place for him to set up shop. It’s either here or on top of the parking garage by the movie theater on the east side, and that’s not as ideal. He wouldn’t be able to see the whole mall from end to end. Also, since I’ll have to assume he’ll be packing subsonic ammo, he’ll need to stay within close range.” Ember stabbed a finger at one of the three rectangles she’d drawn to the west of the mall. “This building in particular would give him the best chance. It’s not a guarantee he’ll be there, but it’s the best option. I’m going to start there and work my way out.”

  Fagan nodded. “Okay, go on. How do you draw him out?”

  Ember made an X at the north end. “I start here. Gabe starts at the south end. Then, we walk toward the middle. I set a thirty-minute timer once we’ve begun.”

  “Why thirty minutes?”

  "I can't assume Xavier will hang around forever. After a while, he'll get spooked. I figure thirty minutes is the most likely window he'll wait for his chance. At some point, he's going to pack up and abandon his hidey-hole, especially if he gets the impression we're getting close to figuring out his location. And, he'll be expecting a surprise of some sort." She paused, considering spilling all of the details about the plan.

  No, she thought, let’s see if Fagan can figure out the last phase herself.

  “The longer it takes us to walk end to end, the more he’ll be itching to skedaddle. Especially since attempting a hit in a public place like this could land him in a lot of trouble with the Board.”

  Fagan drank her tea, then waved for Ember to continue.

  "All along, we check out the buildings, trying to spot him through a window. When we cross, we'll make it look like we're just passing, but Gabe is going to double back around and head for those buildings. By then, we should know where he is. I'll keep Xavier's scope trained on me, making sure he can't get a clear shot but stringing him along, letting him think he might. By the time he figures out what we're doing, Gabe will find where he is and put a bullet in the back of his head."

  “You’re okay with using your recruit like this?”

  “I think he’s ready. If it doesn’t work out, it’s not his problem anymore.”

  “That kid worships you.”

  Ember tilted her head. “You think so?”

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s more than wanting to bed you.”

  “'Bed' me? Is this the 1800s?”

  Fagan made a face. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to put the kid in harm’s way, but I think I’ve been holding him back. I make him get me coffee and let him do his computer thing, but I never let him actually do the deep work. The wet work. He’ll never get his token unless he can get his hands dirty.”

  "He wants to be a member." Fagan leveled a gnarled finger at Ember. "And he wants you to be there to see him earn that token."

  “I want that, too. Believe me, I have no desire to die in trial by combat. I want to grow old and make babies who’ll grow up to be assassins. And then I’ll hold my assassin grand-babies and bounce them on my arthritic knees when I’m in the assassins’ old folks home.”

  Fagan chuckled. “I’m not so sure that place exists.”

  “It should.”

  “Yes, maybe it should.” Fagan leaned over and squinted at the map. “Why not lure Xavier into place and then just conduct a room-to-room search of the office building?”

  “I thought of that. But, one, we would draw too much attention if we rummaged around in the building for any amount of time. And, two, Xavier can’t know it when we spot him. Unless we know exactly where he is, I don’t want to go blindly after him and give him any advance warning. This all hinges on him believing he has the advantage. And, because of that, we both need to stay visible to him until the last possible moment.”

  Fagan sipped her tea, which dribbled a little out of the dead side of her mouth. She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I don’t know. It’s so public. So many civilians around.”

  "That's what makes it great. He won't take the shot unless he's sure. I only need to stay out of clear range, and that should give us enough time to expose him."

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  Ember sat back and dropped the pen on the table. “Then, I’ll be dead. And this whole thing will be over. Or, I’ll get him and survive one more day, and have to get ready for five more of these assholes.”

  Fagan drummed her fingers against the side of her mug and let out a long sigh. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words died on her lips.

  “Don’t worry, boss,” Ember said. “I got this.”

  Fagan met her eyes, and Ember could read the intention there. Her mentor wasn’t so sure.

  “This plan seems incomplete,” Fagan said.

  Ember smiled. “Very clever. You’re right, so let me tell you the best part…”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  EMBER

  Day Six

  Ember parked to the side of the Target at the north end of the 29th Street outdoor walking mall. As usual, the Target parking lot was swarming with cars, despite the early hour. The weather had taken a chilly downturn last night, and that had actually worked to her advantage. Cold necessitated a big jacket. She was wearing a Level IV bulletproof vest reinforced with ceramic plates, hidden underneath her hoodie. Bulky and too noisy when she moved, it was a necessary evil.

  Depending on the type of ammo Xavier intended to use, the vest might save her life. She hoped he would opt for subsonic ammunition — the slower rounds packed a bit less of a punch — like he had earlier this week when he’d attempted to hit her at her condo. But, if he went for something more powerful, the vest wouldn’t do crap to stop it.

  Better to have it and hope. It was a risk she was willing to take.

  But, the better plan would be to find him and take him out before he had a chance to pull the trigger. If this didn’t end today, who knew what measures Xavier would take. He only had one more day. Would he bomb her condo? Would he trigger a gas leak to blow the whole thing to pieces, or shoot an RPG into Fagan’s house? Ember didn’t know the extent of his eagerness to complete his contract.

  But right now, she needed to know if he would pull the trigger in public. She was gambling that he wouldn't. If she was wrong, it could mean more than her life. Innocent civilian bystanders' lives were also on the line. As she crossed the lot, she called Gabe.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, kid.”

  “Morning, Ember.”

  “You in place?”

  “I’m pulling into the parking lot.”

  She lifted her wrist and tapped to start a timer on her watch. "I'm setting a thirty-minute timer. You do the same."

  “What for?”

  “That’s our internal timeline warning. If we haven’t found him in thirty minutes, we need to assume he’s gotten spooked and left. Or, worse, changed position. Thirty minutes from now, we meet up and leave, then we have to figure out what’s next.”

  “But I assume aborting this mission is a last resort?”

  "Correct," Ember said. "We nee
d to get him today, and we have thirty minutes to do it. No excuses."

  “I’ll let you know if I see a red dot on your forehead.”

  Ember grinned. “Negative. That only happens in the movies. Radio silence from here on out.”

  “Understood. I’ve got the timer set on my phone now. Signing off.”

  “Good luck,” she said, then slipped her phone into her pocket.

  Part of her wished she’d said something besides good luck. Maybe something more mentorly, something encouraging. Taking a young assassin under her wing hadn't ever been among her plans. But, here they were, mentor and recruit, hunting together. If they survived this, she would buy him a bagel with as much cream cheese as his heart desired.

  She paused, and her thoughts shifted. She couldn't help where they ended up; it was the one thing, the one memory, she hadn't ever been able to "stoic" her way out of. She had training in how to control her thoughts — specifically in how to respond to her thoughts. To land on one and immediately shift away from it, to force some voluntary reaction to the involuntary inner mind.

  This time, like all the other times, she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t prevent it.

  She thought of her brother. His dead, brutalized body laying in a mess of his own blood in the street in San Diego, ten years ago. Maybe if Gabe didn’t remind her so much of him…

  She marched south toward the actual mall. Her eyes flicked toward the tall glass office building on the other side of 28th Street. He had to be there. It was the only place in the area tall enough to have a view of the entire mall. She and Gabe had discussed conducting a room-to-room search of the offices there, but they figured it would probably be a counterproductive search. Xavier would likely sniff them out as they rummaged around in the building, and he would abort. Or worse, he would lead them to a room rigged with explosives and end it that way.

  He still had forty-eight hours to complete his task. But, if she didn’t trap him today, she might not get another chance to have an advantage. Twenty-nine minutes to spot, corner, and kill him.

 

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