by India Kells
Gabrielle didn’t hesitate. “Go back two blocks and turn left. I’m redirecting the others to your position.”
Mac jogged, this time concealing her weapon under her shirt. Reaching Gabrielle’s coordinates, she turned left. It looked at first like a driveway, but it was in fact a small alley. Gun in hand, she examined every door and every accessible window. There weren’t many and most were bolted and padlocked from the outside. People were running behind her. Three agents sprinted to her side when she heard gunshots. One of them fell to the ground with a spatter of blood.
As she bounded inside a small entrance, unable to help her team, she looked up and saw a shadow moving in a second-floor window. One glance confirmed that Calvi was there. There was no way to take him from behind. Instead, she sprinted on the other side to the front door as bullets flew, making pieces of concrete fly around her. She threw her full body weight to the painted wood. Calvi had already broken it, allowing her to enter the house easily.
Someone was upstairs. Footsteps made the floor creak. The only access was through the staircase and she couldn’t use it without becoming a sitting duck.
Instead, she went for the back door. As for Calvi’s previous hideout, it opened onto a small courtyard. Hearing gunshots, she saw someone running through the front door. Mac lowered her weapon at Lance Sorenson, her friend, occasional Purgatory member, and Navy SEAL extraordinaire. The blond Norse god had been on the backup team for this mission, dressed in full body armor. She nodded and pointed upstairs, while making a sign that she was returning in the backyard. Lance winked and started walking in the kitchen, making more noise than necessary, to keep the attention on the first floor.
Mac moved outside and didn’t see anyone looking out the window from her point of view. Also, the building didn’t have a balcony. She tested the door on the neighboring house and it opened. Without waiting, she dashed inside, and ran upstairs. Once on the top floor, gun ready, she peeked outside into the alley, and saw two of her teammates in an entrance, trying to fire at the window, but without the ability to get a real shot at Calvi. She heard gunshots from the room on the other side of the wall.
Calvi was still there. Noiselessly, she went to the back window and climbed out. It was tricky reaching the window next to her, and when she stretched out to grasp the frame, she felt her sweaty fingers slip and decided to jump. The sill was deep enough so she could hold on, but her body strength wouldn’t permit her to do it for long. Damn she was bad at pull-ups.
Mac looked down and saw a sort of decorative ledge just above her toes. It didn’t offer much, but enough so she gave herself a push to reach the window. When she turned to pull her body, he was there. Calvi was there, through the glass, and his look—that madness radiating from him, the thirst of blood in his eyes—made her freeze in fear. The emotion was so strong, she couldn’t react. Mac just faced him as he raised his gun, pointing it directly to her head.
Her own gun was out of reach, and there was only one thing she could do. Her fingers let go of the sill. She was three stories high and she knew the impact could be fatal, or hurt like hell. Even as she fell, she did a mostly stupid move; she grabbed her gun from the small of her back and fired.
However, she should have watched where she fell as she landed hard in thick shrubbery that felt more like sharp razors than leaves. Her whole body ached from the impact, but she couldn’t stay still, Calvi started retaliating. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, it was easier to move. Then, someone behind her was firing back at Calvi, too.
Lance, thank goodness, was giving his best, offering her a small reprieve. Mac rolled out of the foliage and used the wall to make her way back inside. She checked her ammo, and what she saw made her frown. Three bullets. Didn’t it take only one to kill a man? She left the entrance clear as Lance dashed back in.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. We need to go in, Lance.”
“Damn, I know. But you’re in no shape to …”
Mac could have debated with her friend, but she would lose precious seconds. Calvi would also run out of bullets soon, and at any time he might disappear. The shooting started back in the alley when she had an idea and look at the tall muscular Navy SEAL.
“I need your body. Now.”
Lance frowned before his usual humor won.
“Baby, I wish I could say that to you too, but you lack some specific body parts to satisfy my appetites.”
She ignored him and pulled him back to the back entrance by his flack jacket.
“The door, the one leading to Calvi, ram it down.”
“What?” It took him half a second to see she was serious. He sighed and checked if the coast was clear.
“You will pay for physiotherapy if I dislocate my shoulder.”
“There is too much muscle on your shoulder to even be afraid of this eventuality.”
Lance smiled and verified again, before going out and starting ramming the door. On the first try, the wood broke to splinters and Mac stepped inside, ready for anything.
No noise from upstairs. Calvi had certainly overheard the door being brought down. The layout was similar to its neighbor, only reversed. The staircase blocked her view. Lance signaled her that he was going up. She nodded and checked the alley. Empty.
After a few steps, she followed him. The stairs didn’t allow them to see up, so they would have to reach the first floor to know if anybody was there. Once on the landing, a quick verification confirmed that Calvi was nowhere to be found. He must have stayed on the second floor.
Up the stairs again. From downstairs, she could hear scrambling from the front door. The Purgatory team was moving in. That’s when she realized her earpiece was gone, probably lost when she landed in the shrub.
Second floor. Lance and her split up. He took the back; she took the front. Three rooms, she got inside the first one. Nothing.
The second room was almost empty. No Calvi in sight.
Third room. It looked like a master bedroom. No one under the bed or in the closet. But there was another door. Gun blazing, she approached, and heard a noise behind it.
She braced herself and reached for the knob when the door flung open with a bang. Her finger released the trigger just in time to avoid shooting Lance in the face.
“Clear.” His voice was barely over a murmur, and he pointed up.
The roof. Calvi’s last resort, if he couldn’t go down.
The stairs stopped at the second floor. To access the roof, they would need to take the ladder leading to a trap. Lance looked through a window, but didn’t see much.
Only one way, so Mac started up.
When she reached for the trap, Lance climbed over her, ready to fire if Calvi was there. She turned to face him, that way she would be able to cover his back. Smiling, the blond warrior winked at her.
She rolled her eyes and pushed the trap. As they checked the rooftop, they realized there was nobody in sight. Mac let Lance get up first, but she knew that bastard was gone. And it was on her
Chapter 2
Back at the rendezvous point just outside Panama City in a safe house that looked more like a ramshackle townhouse than a fortress, they entered the safe house kitchen, which doubled as a conference room. Apart from the coffee maker in one corner and dishes in the sink, every possible space was filled by computers, equipment, or weapons.
Gabrielle had forced Mac to make a detour to the bathroom and take a shower. When she looked at herself in the mirror she winced. It was as if she had fought with a wildcat. Her bandana had been lost and her red hair stuck out in all directions. Her creamy skin was scratched everywhere, even under her clothing, and bruises started to blossom here and there. It seemed the bush that saved her life also exacted revenge on her.
She spent no more than a minute in the shower, ignoring the sting and washing her skin quickly. There was too much going on to even think about indulging under the hot, soothing spray.
As she shut the water and stepped out of t
he stall, Mac yelped. Gabrielle was there, arms crossed, assessing the damage from head to toe, although Mac didn’t wait for her to finish before wrapping herself up in a towel.
“It could have been worse.” Gabrielle sighed, resigned.
“Yep, it could have been.” Mac refrained from rolling her eyes. Gabrielle cared about her, she had to remember that when she was so angry at herself.
“And it could have been better if you didn’t run after Calvi. You were hired as a sniper, not one of our operatives, Mac.”
Mac clenched her teeth. “You would have preferred for me to stay there and watch him escape?”
The blue eyes of her boss glinted with contained irritation but her voice remained icy cold. “It was reckless; you didn’t have any immediate backup. We are a team.”
“Purgatory, the mightiest rescue organization around, shouldn’t have hired a sniper because we don’t play well with others.”
Gabrielle pulled at her blonde hair. “Don’t put Purgatory on the line. Mac, I love you, but now, I want to kill you. I know you too well, so I’m positive you didn’t think about the consequences. I admire courage, I really do, unfortunately yours bordered on suicidal.”
Sighing, Mac sat on the toilet. “Gabrielle, I couldn’t let him go.”
“I get that. And to be honest, I would probably have done the same. But that stays between you and me, hot-headed sniper.”
“You all knew how I was when you asked me to be part of your team.”
“Yes, but I wanted your skill set for something much more specific.”
Mac frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m as good as any of you when it comes to holding my own.”
“There is no doubt about it, your hard head made you who you are, and I fear anyone getting in your way. You have to work with us, especially if you’re not behind your visor. Do you understand? You can hold your own, but a partner would keep you grounded. Will make you see the best of a situation. That way, you won’t be attacked by a bush again.”
Relaxing, Mac smiled. “You can team Lance with me, he’s one of the only men here I don’t want to kick in the head.”
Gabrielle arched her brow. “Good, as he’s one of the only ones here who doesn’t want to kick you in the head.”
It was hard not to be annoyed, especially when she knew her friend and boss was right. True operatives, coming from both military or police background, needed someone who was more predictable than her, the rebel with a rifle.
“Now that we are on the same page, some bad news. We’ve identified the man you have killed. His name was Marco Calvi, younger brother of Jorge.” Gabrielle’s gaze was worried.
Mac closed her eyes for a second, letting the impact punch her in the gut. “Shit.”
“Yeah, that sucks. That’s why Lance is securing a safe house nearby. Jorge saw your face, and knows you weren’t alone. It won’t take long before he discovers Purgatory was involved and who you are.”
“I can’t stay hidden forever, Gab.”
“No. But until we can track him down, you will lie low for a while.”
Someone knocked at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Lance walked in. “Nice meeting room.”
“What’s going on, Lance?” Gabrielle frowned.
“Bad news.”
Mac scoffed. “Well, get in line.”
“The safe house where we were planning to send Mac has been set on fire.”
Gabrielle straightened. “What? That’s impossible. It’s only been hours since the attack. And we just started the arrangements.”
“We have a leak, or we’ve been made. Calvi has more power and means than we thought in this country.”
Gabrielle pulled her phone out. “If our systems are compromised, I’m putting them under, right now.”
Mac shook her head. “If you do, that means all safe houses will be closed.”
“Then, we find somewhere safe for you until we can plug the leak.”
Mac thought about suggesting she hid in her homeland, but it would put more people in danger, apart from revealing too much of a past she wanted to keep in the shadows.
Lance leaned against the door jamb. “What about asking for help from Dogberry?”
They all stayed silent at the name. Dogberry was the code name of one of the most brilliant hackers the world had known. Brilliant and invisible. From time to time, Beatrice, founder and mastermind of Purgatory, would contact him for help. No one really understood the relationship between them, but when the best computer wizards of Purgatory were at their wits’ end, Beatrice would reach out.
Gabrielle pressed her fingers to her temples a moment. “Let’s try to get our shit together on our own. If that doesn’t work, I’ll contact Beatrice.”
Lance nodded before offering both women a wicked smile. “Well, I may have a suggestion.”
Chapter 3
Mac threw her bag on the bed and let herself fall beside it with a contented sigh. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of chaotic travels. At one point, she had totally lost her sense of direction in-between planes or the fake names used along the way. Gabrielle had taken every possible precaution before sending her away, even commandeering the help of Beatrice and her husband, the Admiral Feander. Mac knew Gabrielle wouldn’t have asked them to come back to Purgatory without a good reason. A damn good one.
In fact, the secrecy was so great, Mac only discovered her final destination when she crossed the gates of the Seattle airport before hopping into a taxi to an apartment she only had the address to. When Lance had told them he had a suggestion for a safe house, he didn’t include her in the discussion. And everything went so fast, she didn’t have time to have a say. As she got dressed, plans had already been made and by the expressions on both Gabrielle and Lance’s faces, she’d better follow them. They were sending her to an apartment owned by Lance’s brother, Owen, also the owner of a nightclub in Seattle. Owen wouldn’t be on site, but Lance said that she wouldn’t be entirely alone. Someone was managing the club until Owen came back; the oldest Sorenson brother, Wesley. She had a babysitter after all. Not that he would know about it. Lance was particularly sketchy on that subject. He instructed Mac to act according to the plan, as if only on relocation, without revealing her true motive to Wesley. When she asked why, he told her that if he learned of her predicament, he would try to protect her and he wasn’t in any shape to do so. Again, weird, but she let it go.
Inside the apartment, it was dark and silent, very soothing and so unusual for her. The last five years of her life had been in constant motion, her skills required so often, in so many missions, she didn’t even have a home Stateside. She left most of her stuff at the office, or at Gabrielle’s if she didn’t rent a hotel room when no other place was available.
When was the last time I had an apartment I called my own? Her thoughts drifted to her childhood and her beloved brother before pushing the images aside. She was in deep enough without bringing painful old memories to the surface.
Mac turned her head and saw the overcast sky. Droplets of water clung to the window pane. No wonder her mind wandered back to her home, rain had a tendency to do exactly that, stirring her blood with hues of green. As melancholy was threatening, she shook herself off and decided to make this place her own for the duration of her exile. The second-floor apartment of the historic building was cozy with a good-size kitchen and it lifted her spirit. It has been ages since she had a chance to hone her culinary talents. She intended to take full advantage of her demise.
The apartment was fully furnished and exceptionally clean by the strong smell of lemon. Maybe a little too overpowering as if to hide something else. Mac cracked the kitchen window open and assessed the fridge content. A few basics, but as she didn’t have any recipe requiring ketchup or pickles in mind, a grocery stop was next in her list of priorities. Just after calling her boss for an update.
“Hey! It’s me, safe and sound.”
Gabrielle sighed on the other
end of the line. “Good. We produced so many dead ends and false leads, I guess we sent Calvi on a wild goose chase for a while.”
“Until when, Gab? How long do I have to stay here?”
Mac didn’t like the silence on the other side of the phone. When her boss and friend spoke, the tone of her voice was anything but hopeful.
“Difficult to say. We are trying to escape a ghost and chasing it, too, Mac. Be careful. We are on it. I promise we’ll catch him.”
“I know, Gab. I’ll keep my eyes open. And be patient. Well, as much as I can manage.”
Gabrielle laughed. “Yeah. Did you have time to settle in? Sully told me the apartment is nice.”