“Got him. He’s Steve Barclay. Thirty-five. Army vet. Married once. Divorced. No kids. And…he’s got a federal warrant out for his arrest. For a long list of shit. Once we’ve got him locked down and get what we need, I say we call Hazel and do her a favor.”
Hazel Blake was an FBI friend of Leighton’s who had done them a solid not too long ago. Skye really liked the woman even if she was a Fed. “Agreed.” Because doing favors for someone at a federal agency? Oh yeah. They might already have a couple “get out of jail free” cards in the form of some very interesting information they’d gathered during an op, but it never hurt to keep current contacts happy. She figured this was the version of normal people networking.
Barclay took them on a merry chase around Redemption Harbor, but since they were working as a team it was unlikely he’d seen their tail. If he had, he still led them back to a quiet suburban neighborhood where he parked at the last house on a cul-de-sac.
“It’s a rental,” Gage said once they gave him the address and he did his computer magic. The man really was a genius.
Made sense. Much easier to stay at a house as opposed to a hotel with nosy staff.
“From what I can tell there’s a retention pond behind the house. Let’s meet up on the other side and we’ll move on the place. Take him quietly,” Gage said. “I’m parking two blocks over at a gas station. No cameras.”
Everyone murmured their version of affirmative.
*
“I’m taking point on this,” Brooks said, his voice tight as if he thought they would argue with him.
The four of them had set up stations all around the rental house with Colt and Skye in the back near the retention pond. Gage and Brooks were in the front. They were all using the huge trees and neighboring houses for cover.
“Affirmative,” Skye said even as Colt said the same.
“I’ve got him on a parabolic mic,” Gage said. “Just a few movements and water running. Now it’s off. Sounds like he took a quick shower.”
“I say we wait half an hour and see if he rabbits out of here,” Brooks said. “He saw that micro camera. If I were in the same position, I would have left too. Actually, I wouldn’t have come back to my base at all.”
“Yeah,” Skye said slowly. “I wouldn’t have either.”
“Unless this is some sort of trap.” Brooks added.
“Could be, but this guy isn’t big-time.” Gage’s voice was as quiet as the rest of them. “He’s competent, takes a few jobs a year, gets paid and lies low.”
“Then we wait,” Brooks said. “We’re not losing anyone because we got impatient.”
Out of all of them, Brooks was a pro at being patient. As a former sniper, he would have to be. She, on the other hand, hated downtime, and though she had been very good at what she did when she’d been a spy, the downtime had always made her stir-crazy. Still did.
“So what do you guys think of the name C-4 for the dog?” she murmured, scanning the house for any movement.
Brooks snickered across the line. “I think it sounds like something you would do.”
“I can’t believe we’re getting such a small mutt,” Colt muttered. “We should get a German Shepherd or something…”
“Something what? More manly? Please.”
“I don’t know, something bigger. Like a guard dog.”
“I like C-4.” She’d never had a pet before and the cute little Shih Tzu had the biggest, sweetest eyes. She’d have to be a monster to have turned the puppy down. “I see movement,” Skye murmured, shifting into fight mode. A shadow peeled itself off the back of the house, moving stealthily toward the chain-link fence around the retention pond. Right toward where Colt was hiding.
“I got him.” Colt’s voice was whisper quiet.
He was closer to the moving figure. Still, Skye always got a little nervous whenever her husband put himself in danger. She figured that would never change, no matter how strong and capable he was. There was always going to be a part of her that simply worried for him. Even if worrying didn’t do shit.
“We got your six.” Brooks’s response was just as quiet. Even though he’d wanted to take point on this, it didn’t make sense when Colt had the best angle.
Skye remained where she was as Colt disappeared into the shadows, becoming nearly invisible as he used huge oak trees to his advantage. The moon was obscured by clouds tonight, giving them all an advantage. And there wasn’t much light on the back side of this house and none illuminating the retention pond, which was definitely a bonus. The lack of light was probably the reason Steve the kidnapper had decided to exit out the back of the house. Maybe he knew he’d been followed or maybe he was simply taking extra precautions. She was betting on the latter, considering all the evasive driving he’d done. This guy thought he was safe, alone.
If there had been only one person following him, he would have lost the detail. But it was pretty damn hard to evade a team of drivers. It was one of the pros to working with a team. Something she appreciated now.
As he moved west, Skye remained in place, all the muscles in her body tense as she waited for the man to get close enough to where Colt was lying in wait. She couldn’t even see Colt, but she knew where he had to be.
They’d all donned dark clothing and ski masks, because they were going to be turning this guy over to the Feds when they were done with him and they didn’t want him to be able to identify them. The fewer people who knew who they were, the better. Even if this guy was a total douche, he might have a big mouth and someone might eventually listen to him if he talked about a team of people kidnapping him.
Like a jaguar bursting from the trees, Colt attacked with sharp precision, not making a sound as he body-slammed Barclay.
With a grunt, the man went down, and to give him credit he didn’t panic. No, he started to fight, drawing his arm back for a punch.
But he was no match for Colt who had a hell of a lot of training, first with the Marines and then with the CIA.
Her husband moved swiftly, maneuvering the smaller man onto his stomach and gripping him in a chokehold as the guy clawed at the grass and dirt beneath them. Barclay flailed about, gasping as he fought the inevitable.
Skye raced toward the two of them even as she counted one, two, three. By the time she reached them, the man wasn’t moving but Colt held firm, still putting pressure on his windpipe. Skye continued counting and when she reached the right number she said, “Stop.”
Colt was already loosening his grip. Without pause, he’d grabbed the man’s wrists and yanked them behind his back. Watching the way he moved, with such economic precision, it was hard not to admire how incredibly sexy he was as he hog-tied the man with a couple flex ties. Yep, that was her husband.
“I’ll get the truck,” she whispered, racing off into the darkness. It was time to get some answers.
Chapter 17
—Entitlement is a delusion built on self-centeredness and laziness.—
Max slid his earpiece in as he steered into the parking lot of the local feed store. “Yeah?” he answered on the second ring. There was only one man who had this number. Well, not really a man, but a man-child. A moron, but Max wasn’t picky about who hired him. The only thing he cared about was getting paid.
“Give me some news,” Man-Child snapped.
This guy was impatient, but that was usually the way of it. Guys like this had to hire guys like Max because they were pussies and couldn’t handle shit themselves. Max glanced around the parking lot to survey the other patrons. It was half full, which was good for him. He’d be leaving this vehicle here tomorrow after he’d wiped it down. “I’m in the process of getting to her. I should have her soon.”