Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,77

this was some kind of test. He looked Nick in the eyes and said, very firmly, “He’s a lot closer to me than I’m comfortable with, and I don’t know what the fuck to do.” It was the complete truth—not all of it, but an aspect of it, and an aspect should be enough to convince.

Nick grinned and clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! Well then, why don’t we get out of here so we can have a real discussion of what happens next?”

Two things happened simultaneously, things that took August from flamboyant persona to serious professional in under a second. Three people nearby started to complain about how their cell phones suddenly didn’t have a signal, and August felt a tiny, painful pinch in the side of his neck. He lifted his hand up to the site without taking his eyes off Nick, and pulled a tiny tranquilizer dart out of his skin.

“The problem with people like you, Mr. Morrison,” Nick said quietly as he pulled off his sunglasses. His eyes were pale grey, the color almost lost to the sclera surrounding them. “Is that you don’t know how to delegate. Lone wolves are destined to be eaten by a pack eventually. Don’t bother reaching for your knife,” he added. “You won’t get it out in time to do me any harm, I assure you, and think of the trauma for the poor little children to see such a thing. Just come quietly.” A new hand, belonging to someone standing right behind him, fell heavily on August’s shoulder. “Make it easy on yourself.”

Easy would be relying on Ricardo to get him out of this, but if he hadn’t intervened yet, then…

Something’s gone bad.

If Ricardo wasn’t here yet, then he wasn’t hearing this through the phone and his line of sight was blocked, which would make him wary about approaching. That, or they’d already taken him out, but August couldn’t assume that. Just because this guy knew who he was didn’t mean he knew about Ricardo. If he could just get a little closer to the shops, close enough to be seen…

“Oh, you know me,” August said, and his tongue already felt thick. He would have to move fast. “I love easy.” He reached up, grabbed the hand on his shoulder and twisted it toward his hip as he bent forward, sending the man behind him sprawling into the side of the fountain.

“Oh damn, someone spilled something over here!” August exclaimed as he got to his feet, but he listed to the side immediately. Shit, this stuff worked really fast. “Everybody back away from it,” he called out, trying to make his way along the benches. It was getting harder to see, but the man coming up beside him wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Need some help, pal?” the guy hissed in his ear as he grabbed August’s arm.

“Yesh,” August managed, then kicked his heel back into the man’s groin before scraping the sharp edge of his shoe down the man’s shin, then stomping hard on the top of his foot. The guy let go, and now all August had to do was get through the jets of water and screaming kids and he’d be home free.

“Oh, goodness, aren’t you ambitious! Little too much to drink here, folks!” Nick said apologetically to any watchers as he came in and looped August’s arm over his shoulders. August tried the same groin trick on him, but Nick knew how to move out of the way, plus August was rapidly losing his coordination. “So sorry to inflict this on you lovely people, you know how the entitled and inebriated can be…come along, Auggie.” Someone else was following them, probably carrying the briefcase—how many people did their unknown hitman have on his payroll? Who was this guy?

A few seconds later they were at the edge of the park, and August was helped into the back of a large car and spread out along the seat. Nick got in with him and settled August’s head on his lap. “A few things before we go, James,” he called out, looking down at August like he was staring at a particularly delicious-looking cut of meat.

He pulled off the Bluetooth, took August’s cell phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, and handed both into the front seat. “So you did have someone listening in. Who? A friend, a family member?” He sighed. “Not that they heard anything useful, but we’ll take care of them later. Are you wearing a tracker? Where