Page 16 of Skull

She wasn’t sure how it all fit together, and that was a bomb waiting to go off. Damn him.

“Sure, it didn’t,” she finally said. After a long pause, she asked, “You’re not getting all worked up and feeling guilty about Hazard and Leigh, are you?”

“What if I am?”

“It’s counterproductive. Swallow your anger, your guilt, your concern. We need cool, level heads right now. I don’t intend to lose you, partner.”

“What about our hearts, Eva? How can we freeze them and still function?”

“We can, and we will. Soft emotions and leading with your heart will only hurt you. Stick with what we know.” Her tone softened just a bit. “I didn’t say I wasn’t affected, but right now, put on your assassin face and do what you do best.Soglasovannyy?”

“Agreed,” Walker said, hardening her heart and shutting out anything that might compromise her cold focus. Her mission was to discover which gang was secretly backing Lucia “Pincho” Siachoque Alzate, identify their boss, neutralize this partner in crime, and get the information needed to find Leigh and Hazard.

Kidnapping and brutality toward a US attorney and a Navy SEAL couldn’t be tolerated. Blackmail and threats were out of the question. They were under a punishing deadline, seven days, now ticking down to six. If they didn’t find a lead, they’d find their bodies on the outskirts of this city.

Her heart squeezed tight as she forced herself to remain neutral. A killer couldn’t let soft emotions like worry or care interfere. She was a weapon of the US government, a covert, black-as-night force. She wouldn’t falter. She wouldn’t give quarter. And she would be as ruthless as the criminals she hunted.

Dressed as a woman of the night to blend in, Walker slipped out of the alley. She knew the streets of Bogotá well. Many men from the darker side frequented the massage parlors and streets in this part of town. It was a good hunting ground so far, though no solid leads had emerged. The men they’d snagged were tough and tight-lipped.

Out of the gangs here:Araña Rojo, Red Spiders,Ñetas, a term for prison gang,La Mano Negra, The Black Hand, andLas Espadas Fantasma, The Phantom Blades, Walker favored the last group. They were loyal to their overlords, were a large force, and had a reputation for ruthless brutality. They also had their hands all over the illicit going-ons in Bogotá. She was going with her gut, and she hoped she wasn’t wrong. They were easy to spot. Each of them had a cursed and mystical dagger, shrouded in shadows, feared for its power to vanquish evil spirits, an ornate black, and white devil with horns on the hilt, and runes on the blade tattooed just below their left ears, and a larger version on the inside of their left forearms.

Walker strutted down the street in two-inch black patent-leather platform heels. Her fishnet stockings disappeared beneath a supple leather micro-mini skirt that showed the bottom curves of her ass. Her red lace tank top, nearly see-through, clung to her bare breasts. She topped it off with a black wig, the blunt-cut hair swinging around her waist.

“You’re garnering plenty of attention wiggling your tight ass down the street,” came a voice over her comm from Strekoza.

“Any Blades?”

“Plenty. Watch yourself.”

“Why would I need to do that?” Walker said with a lilt to her voice. “I have you.”

She smiled at Strekoza’s chuckle and response. “You know it, sister.”

Suddenly, she sensed someone following her for about ten steps. A strong arm snaked around her shoulders. Appearing startled, she said in Spanish with a come-hither smile, “Hey, don’t sneak up on a girl. You lookin’ for some action?”

She turned to face him, a handsome young man in his twenties with fresh ink that screamed gang initiation. Had he just bagged himself a hooker? She decided to play along.

“Get him to the next alley. There’s a side door into the back of one of the massage parlors. I’ll be waiting.”

Before long, he grabbed the back of her neck and sneered, “Yeah, bitch, and you’ll give it up for free.”

“What?” she protested, sending her hands over her body. “This doesn’t come cheap,” she warned, injecting a thread of anxiety into her voice. Yep, gang initiation.

He yanked her hair and flashed a knife close to her cheek, the metal gleaming in the lamplight. “How about I cut your pretty face so you can’t turn any tricks?”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Free,” she stammered, her voice trembling for effect. “My space is just down there.”

She led him exactly where they wanted him to go. It was like taking candy from a baby. Once inside, she grabbed his hand, pressed hard on his wrist, and he dropped the knife just as Strekoza put a gun to the back of his head.

They dragged him into an empty room, where the sounds of carnal lust echoed in the distance. Strekoza moved behind him while Walker secured him to a chair with zip ties. She pressed her blade against his face and said coldly, “Why don’t you tell me who you’re working for?”

“Fuck you, bitch,” he spat.

Her wrist moved swiftly as she slashed his face deep enough that blood streamed down his neck, soaking his black T-shirt. “Wrong answer. Let’s try again. Who?”

The kid was new, and most of his bravado was just posturing. A seasoned gang member would have taken much longer to break. His cocky attitude drained away as he cried out, clamping his lips closed, sounding just like everyone else here.

She slid the knife between the waistband of his jeans and his belt. Slicing through the leather, she ran the blade along the zipper. He trembled as his bravado vanished. “Who?” she repeated.

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