Page 15 of Lethal Vengeance
“It’s significantly better than you think,” Sterling retorts with a laugh. “But I’m always happy to have the company of a beautiful woman instead of one of these Neanderthals.” He gestures to Raider and Cruz.
“Good, that’s settled,” Zane says absentmindedly. “Raider, I want eyes on all three facilities. It’s just a precaution, but I want to know how much they interact. Also, pick up a shift or two at our target facility. We need intel.”
Raider nods.
“He’s just going to walk in and start working at the facility?” I jokingly question.
“Exactly,” Zane confirms. “He’s a chameleon. A damn good one.” He eyes me for a second while I digest his response. Lines crinkle at the corners when he sees the doubt. “I’ll make you a bet. If he works a shift tonight, you’ll buy dinner tomorrow night. If he doesn’t, I’ll treat.”
Damn, that’s confidence, I muse. “Deal,” I reply, unable to resist the taunt.
He gives a satisfied nod. “Cruz, confirm if the guards’ movements match our schematics. See if anything’s changed recently. Also, slip in and confirm there are two girls in the annex.” Zane waits for me to say something.
“Good call. I haven’t had time to check Armando’s information,” I admit quietly.
Remembering the CIA’s moniker for Cruz and his ability to sneak up on me, I have complete faith in his ability to slip into the facility undetected. The guards won’t even realize he’s there. Even in a room with few people, he recedes into the background. My eyes meet his brown ones, but they’re blank, allowing none of his thoughts to show. I turn back to Zane.
“And you?” I challenge the big man in front of me. He’s good. Confident in his team. Concise. It makes me wonder how long he’s been leading this group.
His eyes narrow. “I’ll set everything up for our exit. We have a network in place, but it needs coordination. This will go down fast. Staying in Monterrey would be the equivalent of suicide.”
“True,” I reflect, although leaving isn’t an option for me. “I do need to meet with Armando and give him an update. Also, I need him to distract Rodrigo, or the mission will fail.”
Cruz grunts in protest behind me, but Zane’s eyes gleam with approval. I can’t help flushing when I see it. Until three years ago, my whole life was geared toward gaining recognition for my achievements from the important people in my life. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.
I glance at my watch. “It’s almost two p.m.,” I state, looking at Sterling. “What time do you want to leave?”
“Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?”
I turn and head to the door. “Fifteen minutes. I’m two floors down in apartment 313.” Turning the handle, I catch Raider’s smirk from the corner of my eye. He didn’t miss my entrance this morning. I was already here.
8
QUINN
“The tunnels are used by one of the local street gangs to escape the police, run drugs, and other business. If we enter at Paloma Street, we’ll avoid the lookouts and it will put us a bit farther outside their ‘jurisdiction’,” I inform Sterling, slightly breathless from the sight of the good-looking man beside me.
Gone is the carefully styled hair and tailored clothing. When he showed up at my door wearing black fatigues, a matching ball cap, and a solemn expression, I almost took him for Cruz. The ultra-confident, but strangely geeky, man I met earlier is almost unrecognizable. For a solid minute, I stood in the doorway trying to reconcile this lethal-looking version with the handsome analytical one, with little success.
Until he smiled. Sterling’s smile has no rivals. It’s brilliant and wide, full of confidence, and it warms a person from the inside out. I want to bask in it for days.
His attention shifts from the rooftops to me, and he slows his stride.
My head swivels around, but I don’t see anybody. “What is it? Is there somebody following us?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I just realized you’re taking two strides to my one, and I’m adjusting the pace.”
With an exasperated sigh, I lean in close to him. “Get a move on. I don’t want to be down in those tunnels after dark.” With a few strides, I return to the previous pace. “Besides, I’m used to it. Most people are taller than me.”
We get to the four-way stop but must wait for the light to change to cross. A couple of older ladies out doing their Sunday shopping stand to our right. One lady nudges the other, and I watch her tilt her head toward the street in front of us. Following her line of sight, I watch three men cross the street to speak to two others. Nothing out of the ordinary until you notice the large roman numeral tattoos on their forearms indicating their allegiance to the local gang.
The ladies make the decision to go farther up the street before crossing over, and I grab Sterling’s hand to follow.
One woman glances nervously at me.
I smile and utter a few words of reassurance. “Sometimes it’s better to go the long route.” My eyes dart to the other street and back.
She turns back around and pats her friend’s arm. “Si, mas segura.”
