To Blind a Sniper (Women of Purgatory Book 2)

by India Kells

  License Notes

  Copyright © 2016 by India Kells

  Editing by There for You Editing

  Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Design

  Formatting by Deranged Doctor Design

  All rights reserved

  ISBN-978-0-9951767-3-7

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  www.indiakells.com

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgment

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Acknowledgment

  From imagining a story to publishing a book, there are endless steps, sleepless nights, busy weekends, and lots of doubts and hesitations. Also, there is pride, elation, joy, and a team of incredible people supporting my endeavor.

  My deepest and sincerest thanks to Myriam, Andree-Anne, Sophie, and Genevieve for jumping in and sharing what is so dear to my heart. Their advice and encouragement allowed me to improve, push me higher and get my work out there.

  My love and gratitude to them all.

  India xx

  Chapter 1

  Heat and humidity covered her like a possessive lover, soaking her clothes, burning her to the bone. Too bad she couldn’t move, despite the discomfort, and endless, annoying rivulets of sweat between her breasts and sliding down her spine. Mac didn’t want to stir. Her determination and focus made it easy for her to ignore the beating sun, the hard concrete under her body, hips, and knees, and her gritty eyes peering relentlessly through her rifle’s visor.

  Perched on top of the warehouse, the noise of Panama City was increasing by the minute as the sun reached its zenith. Another skyline, another hell. Because of her line of work, Mac came to hate the heat. And sun and sand. And sun and jungle. And sun and island. And sun and any freaking place where she had to stay still in an uncomfortable position, waiting for her target to be graceful enough to show up. The forever curse of the sniper.

  “Anything, Mac?”

  Her boss’s voice sounded mightily annoyed. And when she was annoyed, Gabrielle was relentless in solving the issue.

  “Nothing, Gab. Did he take another exit?”

  “Negative. We have eyes all around, and nobody has left the building.”

  Mac sighed. “God, what did we do wrong to fall on the only bad guy who needs more than two minutes and a few groans before coming?”

  Through the urban noises, Mac heard Sullivan stifling a laugh in her earpiece. Where Gabrielle was mission focused, her husband, Sullivan, had a funny streak that transpired, even in tense situations. It was an endearing trait she liked about the Navy SEAL.

  The agents of Purgatory, even consultants such as Sullivan, had a special kind of personality that extended beyond their discipline. Maybe it was one of the recruiting requirements of the founder. Mac smiled at the thought of Beatrice Dante choosing from a list of rebels and renegades.

  Dutifully, Mac resumed her observation, scanning each window, each door. In her vantage point, she could see fleeting shadows through the drawn curtains—nothing much, and not her target. Jorge Calvi was a notorious criminal and hitman, spreading fear in every inch of the world he was hired to go. Not only was he killing people, he was enjoying it a little too much, torturing and raping his victims, regardless of who they were; gender or age didn’t matter to him. He was a scumbag, slaughtering for joy or money, murdering innocents whose only fault was to annoy powerful and ruthless criminals.

  Calvi’s lack of honor made her tick to no end. Mac rode the thin line between right and wrong by working for Purgatory. She could even accept collateral damages for the greater good, but the random killing of innocent men, women, and children was hitting a sensitive nerve inside of her soul.

  The reward of putting down a lone and rabid dog such as Calvi made the pain, impatience, frustration, and discomfort bearable … even pleasant.

  Another hour ticked by, and she was waiting silently, listening to the reports of the surveillance team. Nobody in or out. The target was still inside and all around, the city was buzzing away. The more time passed, the more an unsettling feeling gnawed at her gut.

  “He’s already gone. That son of a bitch is no longer there.”

  Gabrielle’s reply sounded eerily calm in her ear. “There is nothing to confirm that Mac. Stay in position.”

  “Gab, that man doesn’t remain at the same place more than an hour during the day. This is daylight. Why would he change pattern now? His time is up.”

  Her boss kept silent for a second, and Mac imagined her turning to Sullivan and the support team. They all have worked so hard over the last few months, following almost invisible breadcrumbs into five countries before finally catching his scent here, in Panama City. And a wrong move would reveal their presence and destroy their efforts in a heartbeat. Unless, they were already compromised.

  Shit! Mac turned around, scanning the area, and touched her earpiece.

  “Gab, check everyone’s position, we may have been made.”

  On high alert, Mac took her rifle apart and put it in her duffle bag. Crouching behind the air vent, she waited for Gabrielle’s call. She felt restless and wanted to move now, but instead, she peeked at the building again. A silhouette. There was someone inside.

  This particular neighborhood of Panama City was older with a distinctive, historic style. Tourists flooded its narrow streets and colorful houses, which were so close together, it wouldn’t be difficult for Calvi to slide from one building to another, despite their tight surveillance net.

  That’s when she saw him, walking away in the side street, blending in almost perfectly. He looked exactly like his photo—clean shaven head, and dark mocha skin with a muscled build. Her target was wearing a white shirt, making him even more invisible in the crowd. His face was on the soft side, handsome. As she confirmed his identity, Jorge Calvi turned and waved in her direction.

  Bastard. Mac pushed her bag aside, and started running before hopping on the side building and vaulting to the balcony. She used the rail to jump onto the street and sprint off to Calvi’s location. The crowd was dense and she tried not to lose sight of him. Her eyes scanned the people as her hand itched for her gun still in its holster on the small of her
back. It was ready under her light shirt, but would it be enough?

  “Mac? Where are you?”

  Double shit! Gab wouldn’t be happy for her improv session. Although Calvi was renowned to work alone, it wasn’t an absolute rule.

  “Running after him. He’s outside, Commerce Street going north.”

  The sound in her ear was unclear for a moment, but she suspected many curses and insults.

  “Do you have a visual?”

  Thank God, her boss was a practical woman. As she was about to say negative, she spotted Calvi’s bald head fifty feet ahead.

  “I have a visual, in pursuit.”

  “Mac, stay put. If he knew we were after him, this may be a trap.”

  “Copy that, but he’s already aware. He waved at me. Someone tipped him off, maybe our police contact.” Mac dodged an older couple taking pictures. Obviously she didn’t quite blend in with the South American population. Her pale skin and red hair—even mostly hidden under a bandana—clashed without a doubt.

  “Mac, wait for backup. They’re close by, only a few minutes behind you.”

  Mac stood down a second before taking a right on the next street, making sure Calvi wouldn’t be there, a gun pointing at her head. On the contrary, he was now at a full run, as tourists were thinning. Mac decided to ignore Gabrielle’s warning and save her breath to focus for her target. She caught up enough with the man to see him turn left into another street and enter a building. The door had slammed shut, but Mac knew better than to follow without considering the dangers.

  Instead, she went into the small courtyard beside the three-story house and climbed the balcony, making sure to avoid the windows. Once on the second floor, she slid into what seemed like a bedroom.

  Inside the dimmed room, she took her gun out and listened. The building was silent except creaks, rhythmical, one story down. And coming closer.

  Almost gliding, she minded the floor, trying to avoid any noise that would reveal her presence.

  Gabrielle’s voice in her ear was growing impatient and frustrated with her lack of response. Mac couldn’t answer when even her heartbeat may be a risk. Inching along the wall, she slid to the closet and hid partially behind the open door.

  The sound came closer and the person stopped at the room’s entrance, and waited a second. A very long one when Mac held her breath, muscles bunched, ready to leap.

  Time ticked slowly, until the footsteps walked away, almost noiselessly, and climbed another flight of stairs. Patience was the key, but it wasn’t her strong suit when she wasn’t carrying her rifle. At this exact moment, even if she wanted to follow Calvi and kill the man, her gut ordered her to stay still. Less than a minute later, someone else moved from the threshold, making the floor creak, before taking the landing and walking downstairs.

  Mac relaxed a bit. Gabrielle had turned silent in her ear. “Can you locate me, Gab? I’m in a house, south of my initial position. Three stories. Calvi is here with at least two others.”

  “We have already pinged you, and setting up a perimeter. Heat scan confirms two individuals on the third floor. Three on the first floor. None on yours for the moment. The team is getting ready for entry. Possibility of an escape route on the roof, not secured yet. May take a few minutes.” Gabrielle’s voice seemed calm, but Mac knew better; her boss was pissed.

  Mac lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Let me go up and deal with the target. Secure the first floor.”

  “Understood. But if it turns south, we intervene.”

  “Agreed. Over.”

  Mac followed the wall until she had a clear view of the hallway. She managed to stay silent and climb up the stairs like a ghost. Voices from below rose, unaware of her presence. Not a single sound came from upstairs though.

  When she finally had a visual of the third floor, Mac realized it was opening into a vast white room, a little like a loft. Sofas were lined against the walls. There was a TV presenting a soccer game on the opposite wall. Calvi was spread on one sofa, a cell phone to his ear. Another man, younger with similar features and dark skin, but curly brown hair, was watching the game.

  Calvi threw a pillow at the young man, muttering something incomprehensible, pointing at his phone. The younger man lowered the volume of the match. A few seconds later, Calvi ended the call and pocketed his phone.

  Mac crouched, making sure she wouldn’t be surprised in the staircase, before returning her attention to the conversation between Calvi and the younger man.

  “You promised you would stay some more. Or at least let me accompany you. Lately, you’ve been away so long, I barely remember your face.”

  Calvi leaned back on the couch. “And that’s why I made you come here. So we could be together.”

  “You mean in this palace? I can’t even get out. That’s not a vacation.”

  Calvi sighed. “I’m sorry, work took an unexpected turn. We will need to leave tonight.”

  The younger man shook his head. “If I’m to be an embarrassment to you, I prefer to go home. At least I can have some fun there.”

  Calvi rubbed the back of his neck and rose. Mac crouched even more, her gun ready.

  “You know what I do is dangerous. And temporary. Be patient.”

  Calvi’s phone rang and as he answered, Gabrielle murmured in her ear, “The police have been informed. We can’t control the situation anymore. As you figured, Calvi probably has an informant there. We are going in.”

  Mac guessed the call was certainly from one of Calvi’s weasels. She was running out of time. But the decision to act would not be instigated by her.

  Men dashed on the first floor, and gunfire rang. There was no other choice. As she took position, Calvi now yelled at the second man to hit the floor and started shooting in her direction as soon as he caught a glimpse of her face.

  That corner of the stairs didn’t offer the best view and instead placed her in an awkward posture. Calvi had taken position behind one of the sofas while the other man crawled on the floor, trying to get cover. It didn’t matter as her attention was solely on the criminal they were all desperate to catch, or preferably kill.

  Mac couldn’t look downstairs without losing sight of Calvi, and probably offering him a sliver of a way out through the windows at the other end of the room. There were more gunshots and shouts, furniture seemed to be thrown from what she heard. But helping downstairs wasn’t her mission. The second man was cowering in a corner and yelling words she couldn’t understand. Calvi fired two more shots and tossed something at the man. His second gun. As the weapon flew in the air, it was easy to know what would happen next. Even if the man wasn’t used to this level of violence, he would start firing at her and it was too much of a risk to take. As the younger man stretched up to grab the flying weapon, Mac didn’t hesitate and shot two rounds to the head.

  It was strange as time stood still for a moment. Even if she tried to move faster, it didn’t matter, it was as if you had to wait for the normal speed to resume. In that exact moment, everything could be seen, each detail, in incredible clarity. The young man’s life left his body as the gun landed near his hand. Calvi screamed in pure rage and it’s when he turned to her that time sped up again.

  The mobster jumped over the couch and started shooting at her. He lacked accuracy now, but she had to move fast, as the quantity was quickly making up for the quality.

  In the blink of an eye, she became the prey to one of the most dangerous predators on this Earth.

  As Mac used the curving stairs as a shield, she touched her ear. “Gabrielle! Calvi’s after me, shooting. I’m coming down.”

  “Understood. The team is ready for you.”

  She willed her feet to run faster and hoped that their team had the time to clear the place and take position. When she reached the bottom stairs, she landed in the kitchen area. Three men in squad gear as well as five of their agents were ready to shoot.

  Mac jumped behind the counter and waited for the boom, but it never happene
d. The man had vanished. As she rose, Gabrielle’s voice came over the overall comm system.

  “Target on the move. He leapt outside into the street window and is now running fast and south. All units on pursuit.”

  Mac was the first out the door, followed by most of the team on foot. At an intersection, the group divided, and Mac and two agents continued on foot. At the sight of their weapons, people screamed and bodies parted like the Red Sea.

  At the boulevard, Mac and the two others stopped, observing the crowd, desperate to retrace Calvi while trying to catch their breath. The two men decided to walk in opposite directions, but Mac knew Calvi wouldn’t have gone that far. He had evaded them before, hiding and staying low.

  “Mac, I have you on screen. The two other teams have lost him.”

  “Gimme his last location. He had ditched us way before this point.”

  “And what makes you think he’s still in the neighborhood?”

  “Too dangerous. If he had found a secure place, he’s staying there. You, too, would have done the same.”