Page 38 of Centurion

“I can do that. Call her and let her know I’m on my way. Probably thirty or forty minutes, depending on how long it takes for your friends to get here. I don’t want to leave it unattended.”

“They just pulled up across the street.”

“Hold on.” Justin stood up and placed the folder into his black over-the-chest bag with the microfiche. He pulled downhis ski mask and walked to the front door. There were taillights across the street. Unlatching the front door, he backed down the hall.

“I see them. The door is unlocked. I’m clear.” He hung up, secured his phone, and twisted his way through the crush of boxes in the kitchen. He shut the door as he heard the front door open and went straight through the garden, hopping the fence and making his way through another garden. He walked past another house and turned down the street. His ski mask was off and in his pocket. He turned his black coat inside out. Wearing a beige coat, he was a neon flag saying look at me, and that was exactly what the cops would do … if they were responding. But they weren’t. He didn’t trip any alarms, nor was he captured in any digital recording, thanks to the intel Guardian had provided. He walked two more blocks and got into his rented BMW.

“Everything go okay?” Danielle asked.

“Perfectly, but we have to make a detour.” He started the car and pulled away from the curb.

“Really? Where?” Danielle took a sip of her coffee and handed him his travel cup of espresso.

“Thanks. We’re heading to Jackie’s place. I need to drop off some things. Guardian will pick them up there.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense since she works here as a part-time Guardian liaison.”

Justin nodded. He hated the secrets he still had to keep from his wife. He glanced back at their son, sound asleep in the car seat. He was only taking low-risk jobs for Guardian. He had a family to think about and more money than he knew what to do with, so only as a favor, he kept his skills sharp. His replacement was damn good. He’d hate to live on the difference in their skill set. It was a narrow line. A very narrow line. He’d gladly passed the baton to Merlin.

They pulled up in front of the stately building where Centurion lived. “Do you want me to run it up to the door?”

“No, I’ve got it. It won’t take but a few seconds.”

“Good, you’ll have to keep it short. Our plane leaves in three hours.” She tapped her watch, which flashed three a.m.

“Be right back.” He leaned over, kissed her, and got out of the car after grabbing the two cross-chest bags that held what he’d found in Eisenberger’s residences.

The door opened before he could knock on it. Centurion, Jackie, Gabby, whatever you wanted to call her looked … well, he’d seen that look on his wife’s face after they’d finished making love. Justin felt his face flush hot. It was a damn good thing there weren’t any lights on other than the soft glow of the porch light.

He handed her the two bags he’d collected from the residences. “Sorry for interrupting your night.”

She smiled at him. “You didn’t interrupt anything. Night, Uncle Justin.”

“Night, squirt.” He turned on his heel and made his way back to the car. After he started toward Heathrow, he said, “I’m really getting old.”

Danielle chuckled. “Why do you think that?”

“I knew her when she was a gangly teenager with scrapes on her knees.”

Danielle cocked her head. “Yeah? And?”

“I think we interrupted something … with a guy.”

“Or a girl.” His head snapped in his wife’s direction, and she shrugged. “What? You don’t know.”

“True,” Justin admitted. “Anyway, it makes me feel old.”

“Time marches on.” Danielle chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you know if I think you’re getting geriatric. But for now, you still rate as an uber stud in my book. I’ll love you even when you’re jumping off cliffs in your wheelchair.”

Justin laughed quietly and took her hand as he drove. He glanced over at her. “I’d do that. I wonder if there’s such a thing as chutes for wheelchairs?”

Danielle laughed. “If not, I’m sure you’ll invent one.”

Justin looked over at her and winked. “Why not?”

CHAPTER 15

Ronnie sat in the library next to Con, watching him go through the bags. He thumbed through a file, then looked over at her to ask, “Do you speak or read Russian?”

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