Page 4 of The Perfect Stranger

“Suárez, I’m picking up on a small figure, possibly a child,” Zero said more of a mention than a warning. Alamand’s eyes watched me with a curious interest.

“Close?”

“On your floor.”

There was just a hint of it before I reacted. A smile. Wicked and satisfied. The corner of Yusuf’s Alamand’s lips turning up by the slightest degree was enough to have me turning on my booted heel just as a blast rang through the room. Behind me, someone seethed with pain, but I didn’t dare take my eye off the young boy standing in the doorway holding a .48-caliber.

“Put the gun down,” I cajoled the oldest boy I had previously seen in the courtyard. Despite knowing this situation was not going to end well for anyone, I keep my voice soft and low. “Just put it on the ground.”

The boy’s narrowed gaze flicked between me and Yusuf, who in his language was encouraging the youngster to continue his assault. I could see in his eyes the warring debate. Perhaps he had been set up to do this in the event of such a situation. Perhaps it was just a case of the apple not falling far from the tree.

When the kid hesitated, Yusuf became aggressive. “Now,” he bellowed, and that was all the boy needed. He’d been taught his destiny should such an event arise. He was prepared to die. He saw no fear in what the afterlife held. He was told to die with pride, and that’s exactly what was happening as his finger pressed the trigger.

His small body jolted, taking a hit above the heart but not before he had released two shots of his own.

The .48-caliber he was holding fell from his tiny hand and clattered to the floor. His body, which had been a mere vessel for his ‘god,’ fell limp on the filthy linoleum. Small child eyes now looked to the roof with a blankness I saw far too often in this game.

Speckles of blood marred his body on the front, and I winced at the damage that would have been caused by the exit wound.

He was just a boy.

But he was one of them. A child terrorist.

But that didn’t matter.

I had never killed a child before, and this had quickly become one of the darkest days of my life.

If they were mad before, they were seething now. The men were a perfect mix of distraught and manic. Not the combination Jase and I needed to get the fuck out of the hell-hole.

Turning my attention back to the target, I was happy to see Jase had his knee between the shoulder blades of our captive who clawed and bucked in an attempt to free himself.

He swore in Arabic, spittle flying from his mouth. He was grieving for the boy and I didn’t blame him. The words of hatred he spewed over the loss only enhanced my guilt. And then I saw Jase’s arm. While he held his rifle loosely with his right hand, a steady stream of blood trickled out the cuff of his sleeve landing on his target’s pristine white thawb. One of the bullets from the boy had hit Jase in the shoulder, the other missing his head by less than an inch, securing itself in the wall behind.

“You good?”

With a small nod, Jase used his injured arm to handcuff both men. With them now upright, I hooked back into Zero. “Zero, you in?

“I’m here.”

“What happened to Garner?” Garner was our man monitoring the front.

“That I don’t know. He’s not answering and he isn’t at his post.”

“Fuck!” I muttered under my breath.

This was supposed to be an easy mission. It was a simple in and out.

No disappearances. No children. No unnecessary gunfire.

“Extract the targets, Suárez,” Zero’s voice brought me back to reality.

Assisting Jase, I took hold of the cuffs attached to Yusuf Alamand and hooked my rifle over my shoulder. Pulling my Glock free, I positioned it between his shoulders and urged him forward. Stepping over the child’s body, the man simply stared down, his face now void of all emotion.

“Your son?” I asked, hiding my guilt behind stoicism.

His eyes flicked to mine quickly before resting on the lifeless figure once more.

“Yes.”

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