Page 69 of Whistleblower

“I was married once.”

For the first time in an hour, I pull my eyes away from the scope. Vesper’s brows are raised at me expectantly. She has her earpiece in her hand as well. Whatever she’s about to say, she doesn’t want Lance to hear.

“You never told me that.”

“It was before I found you. While I was working with the FBI, the first time around, I thought I’d try my hand at a normal life.”

“Was he an agent?”

Vesper snorts. “No. Not even close. He was a high school math teacher. He had the muscular integrity of a teddy bear. But he had these really sexy glasses…” She trails off as she gets lost in a memory. Shaking the thought away, she continues, “We were chasing this thug, Marlin. A few bank robberies, a couple of drive-by shootings, but the amount of cocaine he was pedaling was unrivaled. We planned a big raid, we got his drugs and a couple of his goons, but he slipped away. It still pissed him off to no end.”

“I get a call a couple of days later to get to the hospital and I find my husband lying in a bed with his face and body so swollen and bruised he was unrecognizable. He stayed in the hospital for two weeks. Another teacher found him in his classroom after school let out. He was unconscious and had a note taped to his back from Marlin.”

I keep my eye locked on the scope. Lance is on his third fake cigarette in ten minutes and if Paris doesn’t come out soon, we’re going to have to blow his brains out through the restaurant window. The FBI wouldn’t be thrilled about that, but better we make this look like a rival gang retaliation than a government-approved hit.

“Was your husband okay?”

“Physically, yes. But he was traumatized.”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“We eventually got Marlin, but my husband was never the same. He was skittish and depressed. He quit teaching. He wouldn’t leave the house. I know he tried to put on a brave face for me, but he lost something that day. He never looked at people the same way again. His blissful ignorance was lost, all he saw were monsters. I did that. My job did that. I didn’t want to put him in harm’s way ever again, so I left him. I set him free so that maybe he wouldn’t have to live in fear for the rest of his life. The rules aren’t for you, Linc, they’re for her. Evil likes easy targets. The best way to get to you is through someone you love.”

Fuck. I know she’s right. I’m quiet because there’s no valid argument against it. I can swear to protect Eden, but I’m the threat. I’m the thing that could put her in harm’s way.

I pop my earpiece back in as I see Lance swipe at his nose. “Go time. He’s on the move. North door.”

I draw in a breath and hold it. I picture Eden’s panicked eyes at Martinis after someone had broken into her home.

“Less than ten seconds. His car is pulling around the corner. It’s our last chance.” I hear Lance in my ear one more time before he disappears behind the building. Paris can’t get into that car. There’s no doubt in my mind it’s bulletproof. No. This slippery coward is done living…today.

I feel the tension build in my lungs. I am so sick of the assholes of the world. I am so sick of all these fuckers that make my existence necessary. I am so tired of the kind, worthy people being easy targets. We need change. I don’t know how, but until then I’ll be here, taking out the trash, piece by piece.

The back door of the building opens and I yank the rifle’s trigger in one fluid motion. The vehicle peels away and leaves the motionless body behind. I wait to ensure he’s not moving before I let out my breath.

“Clean shot,” Lance says through my earpiece.

“Well done, Linc,” Vesper says in front of me. “The FBI will take it from here.”

“Who will they pin it on?” I ask. Paris is a high-profile target, this won’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t worry about it. Get out of here and enjoy your evening, just—”

“I hear you, Vesper. I understand.” No longer needing to stare down the rifle’s scope, I’m able to see her cloudy eyes, the aftermath of dredging up something extremely painful. I stand and stretch feeling the stiffness in my back slowly dissipate. “Do you ever look him up? Your ex-husband?”

I hold out my hand and Vesper takes it, hoisting herself off the ground as well. “I do, often. He’s re-married. Beautiful woman. Three kids. And he’s teaching again. So, all in all—a happy ending.”

I look at Vesper’s sad eyes.

For who?

TWENTY-FIVE

LINC

Eden has thanked me countless times this evening. She thanked me on the phone when she learned I made reservations for dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant. She thanked me when I arrived at her door on time with flowers to pick her up for our date. When I told her she looked like a goddess in the silky dark green dress that hugged her body like a glove, she thanked me again. Another time, when I opened the car door for her and helped her out of my bulletproof sedan with the blacked-out license plate. And yet again when I helped her shuffle into our private booth by the window with a view overlooking the city.

“Linc, have I thanked you yet for such a lovely evening?”

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