Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,43

all the rest of the way to his house.

They circled his neighborhood a few times so August could check out prospective entrances. Jesus, they even found the one that lets out into the pond. Seeing this much police tape in and around his property was doing nothing for his mood. “Well, shit.”

“What?” Ricardo asked as he parked the car a block away, partially blocking their view of the mansion with a giant oak tree that happened to cast a very convenient shadow over them. “No more back doors to exploit?”

“None that wouldn’t require scuba gear or spelunking, and it would be pretty hard to explain away that kind of paraphernalia if we got caught.” He bit his lower lip for a moment. “I could just pull the arrogant rich boy card,” he offered, thinking it through out loud. “The police would want to talk to me if they saw us, sure, but I can wriggle my way out of a police interview faster than you can say high-priced lawyer. Throw around a few potential lawsuits and they’d leave us alone pretty readily.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Malta?” Ricardo pointed out, killing the engine and putting the keys into the inside pocket of his jacket. Both the outside pockets had weapons in them. “Are you going to risk blowing your sister’s cover story for you just to get quicker access to your computer? Besides, if one of the guys who tried to kill us is hanging around here, you showing up and making a fuss would make their jobs a hell of a lot easier.”

“It’s not the sort of thing I’d try to pull off on my own, for sure,” August agreed. “But you could spot me. I know you have some kind of rifle in the trunk of this car, and I bet you’re a regular Winnie the Pooh when it comes to climbing trees. You cover me, I go in and get the information we need, et voila.” It was both a peace offering and a challenge at the same time—getting Ricardo to spot him was a trust exercise, since Ricardo could just as easily blow August’s head off as anyone else’s. The challenge, of course, would be whether or not Ricardo trusted August to bring back accurate information.

Ricardo looked at him for a moment, stared back up at the mansion with a slight squint, then shook his head. “No.”

August tried not to be bothered by the lack of faith, but it stung. More than it should. Idiot, he told himself, of course he doesn’t trust you, and you shouldn’t trust him, you—

“There are too many obstructions,” Ricardo went on, derailing August’s unhappy train of thought. “I wouldn’t be able to keep good enough tabs on you to make me comfortable.”

“So, what, you just want to try and sneak in the front door, then? Looking like…” August glanced down at himself. “Looking like a pair of hobos?”

“My clothes aren’t that bad,” Ricardo protested.

August held out the hem of the Henley he was wearing. “Do you not see the fraying along the edge right here? Because I do.”

Ricardo rolled his eyes. “Nobody else is looking that closely at these clothes, trust me. And lots of people wear things that aren’t completely pristine anymore. It’s called being human.” He opened his door and went around to the back of the car. August followed him. “Besides, we’ll cover it up, anyway. With this.” He threw August a canvas Carhart jacket, followed by a hard hat.

“Oh my God.” August looked at the canvas jacket, then down into the trunk. “This thing is like the Tardis! Do you have the rest of the Village People in there too? Can I be the biker?”

If looks could kill, August would be laid out on the pavement right now. He grinned, on the verge of laughing out loud. He wouldn’t, of course, but he wanted to. Who knew being hunted down by unknown assassins in the company of your best enemy was so much freaking fun?

“Just put it on,” Ricardo muttered, getting his own gear out of the trunk. He handed over badges, too—no pictures, but they read Colt Construction and looked real enough.

“Aww, Colt Construction,” August cooed, patting the badge before putting it in his pocket. “When you pretend to be a lawyer, do you work for the offices of Smith and Wesson? Do you have a name tag that reads Doctor Winchester somewhere? Because I would really, really love to see that.”

“Just shut your