Brought him purpose and definitely saved him from a life of crime.
He felt a smile coming on. He got to do all the things he wanted to do, but now they were legal. Of course, Mack kept a close rein on him. Just as well. Sometimes he went totally berserk and didn’t have a lick of sense. Mack was always the voice of reason and things like this—this assignment, being chosen to guard Jaimie—were signs of respect and just made him love Mack all the more.
He was coming up to the open area. Jaimie had picked her location carefully. Her warehouse could be approached from water on one side or by land on three sides.
Two of the three sides were as open as they could get. Anyone coming at her would have to expose themselves. She could sit up in her tower and pick them off one at a time—if that was Jaimie’s way, which they all knew it wasn’t. She would have an escape route. More than one. Jaimie was the biggest pacifist he knew. What she saw—and loved—in all of them, he never knew. They were all fighters, but like Mack, Jaimie was family, and he’d go to hell and back for family.
He stayed very still, scanning the area, his gaze quartering from rooftops to windows and then sweeping along the open sidewalk. Two men rounded the corner and paused to light cigarettes, hands shielding the flames, hiding their faces in the brief flare of light, but not before he caught a glimpse of their eyes. They were dressed in casual fishermen gear, but two things caught his attention. Their boots and their eyes. They were doing the same thorough scanning of the area, and he saw them look upward several times, toward that third floor where Jaimie Fielding was probably dropping off to sleep.
Jaimie’s about to get company, Mack, he reported.
Mack swore softly. Can you get to her without exposing yourself?
Javier looked at the wide-open space running along the front of Jaimie’s building and the two men between him and his destination. That’s affirmative, boss.
We’ll be sweeping up behind you, Javier. Don’t kill any of us.
Tell the boys to identify themselves before they set foot inside Jaimie’s home.
You got it. Be damn careful until backup comes, Mack warned again.
Careful is my middle name, Top.
Grinning, with eyes on the two men studying Jaimie’s building, Javier quickly turned his jacket inside out. The black combat jacket now looked like a kid’s jacket, complete with hood. He dragged the thick black-rimmed glasses from his pocket and set them on his nose. He spun his MP7 with its silencer to lie under his arm where he had easy access, and drew a skateboard and ball cap from his small duffel bag. If someone stopped him, the bag wouldn’t stand up to a thorough examination, but he wasn’t taking prisoners.
Javier shoved the hat backward on his head, dropped the board to the walkway, and began to kick-push his skateboard down the sidewalk. Just before he emerged from the shadows he half turned toward the sound of music and raised one hand.
“Later!” He shoved with one foot and took the board out into the open, directly in a path to intercept the two men.
He glanced up as if seeing them for the first time and deliberately did a perfect varial flip, turning the board 180 degrees, and then landed back on the board and kept going. It was a fairly easy trick, but showy. The men turned toward him, but he could see they were really watching Jaimie’s building and looking up at the rooftops, buying his kid act.
As he approached the two men, they visibly went on alert, one sliding his hand inside his coat. “Get out of here, kid,” the one with the gun growled. The other spat on the ground.
Javier did what any self-respecting teen would do. He flashed a cocky grin, pushed hard with his foot, sliding back in preparation for a back-side heel flip. He crouched down, popped the board up, kicking out his heel and starting a 180 turn, but he failed to land it, stumbling off the board and almost plowing right into the two men. He spread his arms for balance. The skateboard flew into the air, striking the first man right in the center of his chest, driving him backward. The second man cursed as Javier’s body slammed into him. The tiny sliver of steel in the center of Javier’s palm slammed deep into the jugular vein. The man coughed, reaching up toward his throat as Javier’s tackle carried them both toward the ground.
Javier turned as he fell, flipping his knife underhanded at the second man as he half rose. The blade buried to the hilt in the man’s throat. He moved fast, even as the first man choked and gagged, already dying. Dragging the two bodies back into the shadows, he moved quickly across the open space, using the skateboard for speed.
Jamming his finger on the button that rang her doorbell, he prayed Jaimie would buzz him through without any questions.
“Come on, Jaimie, let me in,” Javier demanded, trying not to feel the itch between his shoulder blades where a big bull’s-eye seemed to be painted on his back.
The locks disengaged and he shoved the door open and all but fell inside, dragging his MP7 free as he crouched low and crawled his way to the windows to peer outside.
She’d let him in too fast—she’d known he was coming. Jaimie always knew.
I’m in, Mack. We need a cleaner for the two pieces of garbage I left just inside the alley outside of Jaimie’s door.
Jaimie has to be the target. Gideon, watch this rat trap, Mack instructed the others. The rest of you, pull back and make your way through the streets in standard search. Find them. Take them out quietly.
Javier wired the doors and windows as quickly as he could. I’ve got this place rigged, Mack. Do not approach without one of us letting you in.
Mack’s breath of relief was audible and made Javier smile. Keep her undercover, he advised.
You got it, Top, Javier promised.
Yeah, Mack said. Just like you were careful and avoided engagement. Cleaners, my ass. I told you to be careful.
I don’t have a scratch on me. He lowered his voice even more. Jaimie’s coming down the stairs. I want to keep her on the third floor, boss.