Page 1 of Breathe
Genesis had a rule that every twenty-four hours, they made some type of contact back to base.
But for Real, a former military assassin, it was way past the check-in time. Besides, he had bigger problems right now than calling base.
“You got him?” Winter, his partner on this job, yelled as he stumbled over people in his way.
“I got him,” Real shouted back.
The job he and Winter were on had sent them careening through the streets of downtown Scottsdale, Arizona, and into the local Civic Center after Willy Barton.
William “Willy” Barton was on the FBI’s most wanted list and had been for over a year. The man was wanted for kidnapping, raping, and killing three young girls—the youngest had only been ten years old.
It didn’t take a genius to know what the sicko had been doing for the past year and Real was going to make it his mission to end the fucker’s reign of terror.
Scottsdale’s Civic Center was busy, especially with the National Western Stock Show parade going on, so it wasn’t easy for Real to maneuver through the crowd of booths and people. When he saw an avenue that gave him an edge, he lunged through a narrow path between two booths.
Real turned down a short aisle at the end and dodged around a display table in the next aisle over.
Ahead of him, Barton jumped over a vendor’s table and sent pamphlets toppling to the floor. A woman screamed and a few men yelled.
Barton ran full out, throwing glances over his shoulder as he ran.
That gave Real an edge and, running parallel, he cut across in front of the guy. With one beefy arm, Real clotheslined Barton in the neck, knocking him to the ground.
People scrambled out of the way, shouting and crying out, but Real paid them no mind.
Reaching down, he lifted Barton by the throat, spun him around, and planted him face-first into a nearby wall.
There were too many people there to do what he normally would have done. And in hindsight, he should have let Barton get out of the civic center first, but Real’s temper had gotten the better of him.
He never was one for patience when it came to people like Barton.
There wasn’t anything Real could do about it now, though, and perhaps this time, the local law could take care of it.
Winter job jogged up, he had spent several months as a bodyguard to Dave and was a recent addition to Genesis. People backed out of Winter’s way. The man was big but lean. With dark hair and blue eyes, Winter drew several gazes. The guy moved and looked like he was lethal. And although not his type, Real could admit that Winter was handsome with a cropped beard lightly covering a square jaw.
Winter was barely out of breath. But then, neither was Real. Both of them were former SEALs and very fit. So, carrying a hundred-pound pack while running full out was not new to them, and chasing a perp through a building was child’s play.
“It’s okay, we’re law enforcement,” Winter lied, working his way through the growing crowd of onlookers.
Real zip-tied Barton’s wrists behind his back and marched him through the crowd and out of the building with a hand clamped to the back of his neck.
The air was relatively warm in Arizona even for the month of January, but that might have been because he’d just come from Colorado where it was fucking cold.
Several minutes later, Real reached the end of a far parking lot where it butted up against a stand of trees near the edge of a small gully.
Real approached his parked SUV and handed Winter the keys to unlock it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Winter asked, pushing the fob. The vehicle’s alarm chirped in the quiet parking lot.
“I got somewhere to be, but we need to drop him off at the local PD,” Real said.
“Fuck you, assholes,” Barton snarled and struggled.
Real slammed the guy face-first into the outside of his SUV. Barton’s head bounced off the metal, blood poured from his nose, and a sound tore from his throat.
“I didn’t do nothin’,” Barton blabbed through the dripping blood.
“Tell that to the judge,” Winter said, opening the back passenger door, gesturing for Barton to get inside.
