Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,82

and pulled out the remote he’d used to activate the explosives. “You so much as ask anyone about the weather,” he whispered, shoving the remote down the front of the shaking man’s pants, “that’ll go off. Do you want that?”

With what sounded like a muffled whimper, the guy nodded as vigorously as he could in Ricardo’s grasp.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to remove that, either.” Ricardo laughed right in the man’s ear. “Or you might inadvertently remove something else. You feel me?”

Oh yeah, this guy was good and scared. Perfect.

“Make your round.” Ricardo released him as he drew his pistol again. “And unlock the back.”

The man started to turn, but Ricardo jabbed him with the pistol again.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” he warned.

“Okay. Okay.” The guy started walking, if a bit gingerly. He glanced down, probably wondering what had joined his dick in his underwear, but he wisely didn’t touch it. As far as he knew, it was a volatile explosive.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Ricardo carefully doubled back toward the front of the house. There was a side door that was somewhat hidden from view of someone walking alongside the building, and that was the point of entry he intended to use. The unlocked back door was both a potential extra escape route or—if the guy stupidly sounded the alarm—a place for sentries to gather to try to take him out.

Ricardo tried the door just in case it was unlocked. Of course it wasn’t.

He glanced around again. Then he crouched and pulled out a small set of tools—a thin file, a jeweler’s loupe, and a blank key.

He carefully slid the blank into the lock and tried to turn it. Then he withdrew it, inspected it with the loupe, and found the tiny imperfections left by the tumblers that hadn’t wanted to budge. With the file, he deepened those imperfections into gouges. Then he tried the key again. Checked it again. Filed it again. A Navy SEAL had taught him this trick, and thanks to years of practice—and still obsessively practicing at home for situations just like this—it took under a minute to get the result he wanted: a key that, when inserted and turned, unlocked the door. It was less efficient than picking the lock, but it resulted in a key that could come in handy later.

The lock obediently clicked, and he turned the knob. He pocketed the key and tools. Then, slowly, he pushed the door open. The hinges were quiet, and beyond the doorway was a small concrete staircase that led into an empty hallway.

Ricardo shut and locked the door behind him. Then, moving with all the stealth that had been trained to him by both the Army and his current profession, he crept down the hallway with his pistol poised and ready.

About ten feet from the end of the hall, he stopped and just listened.

Silence.

So far, no one had caught up with him. Good.

He took out the burner phone and checked the blue dot. He zoomed in close now so he could get an idea of which way to go.

August was close by. Really close. Or at least the tracker was. Ricardo didn’t let himself think about if or how August might’ve been separated from it. This was the beacon he’d follow until he had a reason not to.

Still moving stealthily, pistol in one hand and phone in the other, he followed the labyrinth of corridors closer and closer to the northeast corner.

At each corner, he held out a small mirror so he could see up ahead. So far, he hadn’t encountered anyone, but that wouldn’t last long. Victor was probably locking down the house and making sure no one made it past the perimeter. Sooner or later, he’d figure out that the intruder wasn’t outside, and then he’d turn his sights on the interior. Ricardo needed to have eyes on August by then and be well on their way to getting the hell out of here.

Ricardo stopped again and held out the mirror. This time, there were men in the hallway. Two of them, both heavily armed and wearing what looked like body armor. They flanked a door, and if the tracker was as accurate as it was supposed to be, August was on the other side of that door.

Ricardo took a deep breath and pocketed the mirror. Carefully and quietly, he pulled a small mask from his belt and slipped it over his face. It only covered his nose and mouth, but