Thriller, p.4
Thriller, page 4
“Hello?” Christian’s voice was curious, her number would come up unknown so that was to be expected.
“Your bell rang and there is a package outside; don’t open it,” Shadow said softly.
“Who is this?” Christian’s voice became angry, and his next words sounded like they were forced through gritted teeth. “You can tell your bitch mistress, nothing will ever, and I do mean ever . . . change.”
“Listen, I have nothing at all to do with the Dame, okay,” Shadow said briskly. “But you will die if you don’t listen to me. One of her men delivered a large pink box on your doorstep. Baby, be mine. Sound familiar?”
“Are you watching me?” Christian asked, his voice stiff. “Are you DEA or something? I don’t know one fucking thing about her operation, except that she’s a damn killer, and I found out too fucking late.”
“You don’t have to tell me, we know that you don’t know, and I’m trying to protect you,” Shadow said. “I know she’s a killer, better than most and she’ll pay for it. Right now I need you to go downstairs carefully and move that box to the sidewalk. I don’t want any of the tenants getting curious about it and taking it in. The police have been called, whatever is in there, don’t touch the flowers, don’t do a damn thing but put it on the ground and go back up the stairs.”
“How long on the police?” Christian asked hesitantly.
“G-man—ETA on the cops?” Shadow said.
“They are already on the way, and from their chatter I’d say about a minute out,” Grimes answered.
“Christian, they’re almost there,” she said. “Are you downstairs yet?”
“Opening the door, where are you watching me from?” he asked. “Can you see me and who is G-man?”
“I can see you,” she said looking through her scope and ignoring the second part of his question.
He took each step carefully while carrying the box. “I swear something is moving in this thing. Scorpions maybe?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Shadow answered. “If they ask: you a have a stalker, nothing more, nothing less.”
Shadow turned her attention to her partner in the van. “Grimes, I want video of any onlookers who gather. Carina likes to watch the drama she caused up close and personal, so she’s around to see what happens next.”
“On it.” Grimes’s voice came through her earpiece.
“Are you using me as bait?” Christian asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, just wanted to be clear on that,” he sighed. “If I’m dead, you can’t catch her, can you?”
“Basically.”
“You’re a talker aren’t you?” He gave a small chuckle. “Should I kick the box?”
“No, the cops are here. I’ll let them take over,” Shadow answered. “Go back to the steps.”
“How will I—”
Shadow had already hung up the phone and now she watched the chaos of the police arrival. Christian was wearing gray sweats and a T-shirt stretched across his wide chest. His hands were in the air as the police called out directions to him for their safety and his. He stayed calm throughout.
“I think something’s moving in the box,” Christian told the police.
“He’s not bad-looking. Pretty cool under pressure for a guy being chased by a psychopathic, lovesick drug lord,” Grimes commented.
“Probably the thing that drew her to him,” Shadow said. “Carina likes them pretty.”
“So you think he’s hot,” Grimes laughed.
“I will shoot you through the side of that van,” Shadow warned.
“You don’t know where I am,” Grimes teased.
“Sitting in the first seat by monitor one, with those chocolate-covered donuts that are going to eventually make you a diabetic right next to you,” she told him, and there was silence. “Am I right?”
“Lucky guess,” he grumbled.
This time Shadow laughed softly. “Sure, let’s call it that and if you ever send me fish and plant clippings for dinner again . . .”
“Yeah, yeah, the same old threat,” Grimes said dryly. “It’s a salad and it’s healthy.”
“Says the guy eating donuts like they’re going out of style.”
“Touché.”
Christian was standing behind a cop car and bomb techs in full gear moved toward the box. If was a bomb it would be triggered by lifting the lid. Unless the Dame has a deadman’s trigger, and she’s somewhere close watching, Shadow thought and she used her scope to scan the area. If she spied the Dame in a two-mile radius, depending on the wind, she could take the bitch out. Shadow was one of the few snipers that didn’t need a spotter, but she was thirty-two now and exhausted.
The end of the last of her contracts was in a year. She was done then, going into the private sector, and if the government needed her, they could damn well pay out the nose for her services. Shadow focused back on the box and the robot lifted the lid. Nothing happened. One of the bomb techs approached carefully and looked into the box.
“It’s just flowers, like a shitload of flowers,” he called out, his helmet muffling his voice and he kicked the box over.
“It’s not just—” Christian tried to say.
That’s when the snakes fell out. All black mambas, seven of them, trying to crawl away from the light and escape. The Dame went for overkill, because the bite of one would do the job. Shadow knew she was still steeped in the religion she perverted; seven was meant to be the Dame’s number of power, her immortality. Not when you meet my fucking bullet, bitch. In her mind the words were spat out with such malice. It would’ve shocked Shadow, if she hadn’t long made peace with her own savagery when it was needed.
A female cop was on top of the hood of the police cruiser screaming like a bat out of hell—so much so, her hat fell off and her raven black hair fell from beneath it. Shadow only glanced at her quickly through her scope, the cop was facing away from her, fully intent on reaching the top of the car. It seems like criminals are far less terrifying than snakes. The police took no chances and before the snakes could slither down a drain, they shot some and the bomb tech managed to use a booted foot to crush two heads. The person bagging them for evidence would have a hell of a cleanup, and Christian was already being put into a cop car. At the police station, Shadow hoped he was prepared to answer hours of questions.
“Snakes. That’s stone cold,” Grimes made a sound of disgust. “I hate snakes.”
“Well, she’s done waiting for him to come back to her,” Shadow’s tone was calm. “Now she wants him dead.”
“Hell has no fury like a woman scorned,” Grimes said. “Still, I’d prefer to be shot than bitten by snakes.”
“She’s an I’ll-peel-your-skin-from-your-body-until-you-scream-you-love-me type of woman,” Shadow explained. “Just make sure you have a background check on any women you plan to bang, so they don’t pull a Fatal Attraction on you.”
Grimes laughed; the sound could only be explained as an old pickup truck on its last leg, but still it made her smile when he laughed.
“What type of woman are you?”
“Grimes, I’m one of the craziest ones you’ll ever meet, to choose this as a career,” she said with a sigh. “At least I hide it well.”
Christian didn’t leave for work that night, the cops brought him back home way after he would’ve left anyway, which meant she wasn’t going anywhere either. The other team she had sitting at the soup kitchen was able to take the night off and go get some sleep and some much-needed R&R. Shadow ordered Grimes to do the same. She could handle this alone tonight, and it wasn’t like Grimes would be coming out of the van to help her. The bullet that would take the Dame out would be from her rifle, and they wouldn’t know where it came from. But Shadow was damn tired of that roof and wanted off this op that had gone on for weeks. She wanted to be free of the hurt, so her brother could finally rest.
Mostly she wanted Carina Perez dead; that was her main mission and her determination would make her sit on that roof for a year to see that happen. When the powers that be put her on the list, because all other efforts to stop her had failed, Shadow made sure that her vast amount of intel on her target ensured her the job. She waited patiently for the sanction to have her killed came through, with no repercussions for killing the vilest woman who was ever created. Shadow connected her earpiece to the phone and pressed Christian’s number again. Hang up, she told herself firmly, but that order was nixed when he answered the phone.
“Hello?”
Shadow cleared her throat. “Hi, um . . . making sure you’re good to go?”
“I thought you were calling to tell me there’s another box,” Christian said.
“Got my eye on the building—no boxes,” she assured him.
“I don’t know which is worse, the boxes of doom or the unknown woman watching me,” he admitted with a sigh. “This is a shit show.”
“I’m part of the good guy crew, and I have your back, unknown or not.”
“That’s good at least.”
She hesitated then spoke. “How did the police interrogation go?”
“Well, I was grilled about who wanted to send me snakes,” Christian gave her the rundown. “They played good cop, then bad cop yelled, to help them, help me, the usual jargon. I figured out not much could be done with Carina on my ass like a tick.”
Shadow smothered a laugh. “Yeah, thanks for that visual. I couldn’t use my resources to get you out: the Dame’s reach is long, and she would’ve heard and gone ghost. I’m sure she has a few cops on the NYPD in her pocket, so you’re being out of there and home is a good thing.”
“Ah yes, almost forgot I was bait,” he murmured.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. So talk later . . .”
“No, don’t hang up,” Christian said quickly. “It’s been a long few months, and you’re the only person I know who hates Carina as much as me.”
“How did you get with Carina anyway?” Shadow was curious to know.
“Being a missionary has its pitfalls. She came dressed like one of the girls from the village. She heard about our work and wanted to make sure we weren’t DEA,” Christian said. “I didn’t know that at the time, but she flirted, I reciprocated, and for a while, I thought I was in love. The first time I saw where she lived, I thought, man, she must really help her people in poverty. Wrong. I saw her men kill three of the very same people of her village.”
“It’s kind of what she does,” Shadow remarked dryly. “She’s a black widow.”
Christian continued his story. “She wanted me to stop my missionary work, to be her boy toy or whatever the heck you are to a drug lord. I said no, and she burned our missionary home to the ground, with women and children inside. We saved most of them, but the other deaths were on me. I knew I had to leave or more people would die, because I was thinking with my dick when I met her. I knew she followed me here when the boxes started. Money, which I gave to charity, threats, poisoned chocolates once.”
“How did you know they were poisoned?”
Christian’s answer was dry. “Really?”
“Good point.” Shadow focused her scope on his building and the surrounding area in a sweep while she spoke. “Well, we knew the basic information of why she was ‘on your ass like a tick,’ as you put it.”
Shadow’s scope went back to the window of his apartment. It was dark, and the amber light was almost comforting in a way, his silhouette was an outline and she could see he had his cell up to his ear.
“Move away from the window,” Shadow snapped. “If she had a sniper on your ass, you’d be dead.”
“Even now, you’re watching me.” He laughed softly.
“That’s the job! Anyway, I have to go.”
“Hey, what’s your name?” Christian asked.
“They call me Shadow,” she answered easily. There was no way he could find information on her even if he tried.
“Why are you looking for Carina?” he asked softly.
“She killed her previous boy toy—my brother.”
Shadow hung up the phone and her grip tightened on her weapon as anger flowed through her. When they found Corey he was . . . well, the Dame had torn him apart. She was lucky; Shadow wouldn’t be able to give her the same treatment that Corey received. Her death would be from so far away, it would be a whisper in the darkness, and Shadow would have her revenge.
The cellophane wrap crinkled as she opened the Pop-Tarts and took a bite of the chocolate breakfast sandwich . . . pastry? How did one classify Pop-Tarts on a breakfast scale? She had to come to the point of the op where boredom made her think of the most random things. Shadow sat with her back against the wall of one of the empty rooms that were her temporary home. It was her turn to crash and get some shut-eye. After that conversation with Grimes, the meal he dropped off was more to her taste. Grimes was a pescatarian with a sweet tooth. Wasn’t that a contradiction to the healthy lifestyle?
Shadow chewed, her mind going from one thought to the next, and then it landed on Christian. Over the next week, they’d talked again—okay, more than once, it was almost twice a day. It felt nice to just have a conversation that had nothing to do with killing or the mission at hand.
“So you like to read and watch movies outside of being a ghost for the military,” Christian said. “Are you a drinks and appetizers type of woman or a full meal?”
“Definitely the full meal,” she replied. “A beet salad and two scallops is not a meal.”
Christian laugh and it was a rich, happy sound that made her smile. “That is oddly specific.”
“Because I had it once and it was gross,” Shadow said firmly. “My partner likes to torture me with rabbit food, like huge salads stuffed with various lettuces and slivers of carrots, not even any bacon bits. I may have to kill him one day.”
“How about you don’t do that,” he said, amused. “I make a mean steak on the grill. Even better, my stuffed burger with blue cheese and mushrooms will make you think you’re in nirvana.”
“Is that an offer to cook for me?” she asked.
“Tempted?”
“You never know, I play my cards close to my chest.”
Her recollection of their conversation made her smile. With her head leaned against the wall, she took another bite of her tart . . . Breakfast tart, it’s right in the name. It wasn’t wise to get close to the man who was basically the worm on her hook. In her line of work, finding a connection, if any at all was rare, so talking to Christian was unique. Two beeps on her radio made her put in her earpiece: that was Grimes reaching out with their code system for when she wasn’t on the roof.
“What’s up? Do you see something that looks itchy?” Shadow asked.
“It’s not a sweater . . . you know what, never mind,” Grimes said. “Your bait is flashing lights at the window.”
“Lights like flickering or a flashlight?” she asked with a frown.
“No, like morse code for call me,” Grimes chuckled. “One might say you have an admirer.”
“Suck it, Grimes.” Shadow pulled the comms piece from her ear.
She picked up the burner phone and pressed the button to redial his number. It was like the beginning of an addiction, where it was more titillating than anything else. I’ve started taking him right to the vein for a better hit, and I’m screwed. Her thought amused her, and she was chuckling softly as he picked up the phone.
“You actually laugh,” Christian said in lieu of hello. “It’s a nice sound.”
“Don’t ever signal like that again,” she snapped. “What if someone else saw it and could understand what it meant?”
“Wait, that actually worked?” Christian was amazed. “Shoot, I found it on the internet and used the lamp so it wouldn’t look like I was doing it on purpose.”
“Well, it did and it’s dangerous. If you want to talk to me, wait for me to call. As is, I am breaking all—and I mean all—protocol calling you.”
Christian was silent for a moment. “Will you get in trouble for talking to me like this?”
“What my handlers don’t know won’t hurt them,” she softened her tone.
“I hate how that sounds: handlers, like you’re some pet in a zoo,” his voice was grim.
“It is what it is. I chose this life,” she said simply. “So you taught yourself morse code to contact me.”
“Impressed?”
“Might be.” She gave a soft laugh.
“You have a nice laugh.”
“It doesn’t happen often, trust me,” Shadow said amused. “In my line of work, you don’t go home to dinner parties and a group of friends when the op is over.”
“Sounds like a very lonely life.” Christian’s voice held sympathy.
“I manage.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing that loneliness swamped her more often than not when she was home.
Christian hesitated before asking. “What about your family, a husband or wife?”
“You’re moving. I heard the door slam,” she said. “Where are you going?”
“To pick up my dinner from the Chinese place,” Christian answered, and his voice was filled with amusement. “You have hearing like a bat, my door doesn’t even squeak, and the door didn’t close all the way to click.”
“I’ve heard worst things about myself,” she said.
“Okay, so back to the question you promptly glossed over, who’s waiting for you when this is done?” His footfalls went down the stone steps, and he was wearing sneakers, but if she mentioned it, Shadow knew he would comment on her hearing again.
“None of the three. Parents didn’t give a damn, so I was raised by the system. Joined up with the army at eighteen for some place to sleep and eat,” Shadow answered bluntly. “I had my brother, but technically he wasn’t my brother, we just grew up together in foster care, so we took care of each other.”
“At least you had him,” Christian said gently.
Till I lost him to the Dame, she thought before speaking. “I found I was proficient at the army stuff, especially guns, and that leads directly to where I am now.”
