Page 16 of My Masked Shadow
“Thanks, man,” I mumble gratefully, breathing in the expensive roast I’m addicted to. There’s a time and place for an energy drink, but nothing beats that first whiff of hot caffeine.
I wake up my machinery and check the alerts I missed. Adrian Wen Zhao is indeed right here, in New York.
“Heh,” I snicker, reading a message in my encrypted inbox.
“What?” Cross growls impatiently.
“My man at Teterboro managed to put a tracker on Zhao’s convoy as they were leaving,” I answer, grinning up at my friend.
Killian raises an eyebrow. “You have a man at Teterboro?”
I scoff. “I have a man everywhere worthwhile. There’s a reason why we always get the cushiest jobs.”
“Point me at my target,” he replies. “I’ll leave the sleuthing and scheming to you.”
“So barbaric,” I mutter, bringing up the map with a couple of taps. “There. They’re at a warehouse by the waterfront.”
“Figures,” he grumbles. “Easy in, easy out. Plenty of water to dump the bodies. Just like last time.”
I swivel around until I’m facing him fully. “Unlike last time, you’re not going in alone.”
“You’re going with me, E? I’m touched.”
“I’ll leave the touching to Emily,” I say with an eye roll. “But no, not just me. I shot a message to Damien and Caleb. They’re on their way.”
“Fuck,” Killian growls. “Why are you bringing them into this? I got shot last time, if they get hurt?—”
“And if you get hurt worse than that?” I interrupt. “Not only will Emily skin us with your Ka-Bar, but we’d never recover.”
Killian crosses his arms. “Shit, man, you’d think you’re the one writing wedding vows, not me.” He takes a deep breath before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Let’s get this motherfucker so I can go home to my wife.”
“Not your wife yet.”
“She fucking is and she knows it.”
The warehouse smells like salt,oil, and despair. I think whatever Black Ash is transporting here has a heartbeat.
We split up, each taking a corner of the building, ready to capture them in the middle. There won’t be any surprises this time, no ambush, no lone man running from an army. My earpiece crackles in my ear as I crouch behind a shipping container.
Killian speaks up first: “Four guards inside, two more at the rear door. You got eyes on Zhao?”
“Negative,” I reply. “He must be squirreled away in an office.”
“Or he knows we’re on to him,” Damien murmurs, always the cautious one.
“Then let’s give him a reason to come out,” Caleb says, his voice promising blood.
“What are you doing, Kemosabe?” I ask with a grin. Ward never fails to entertain.
He chuckles, the sound only just carrying over the earpiece. “Just setting a little fire.”
“Careful not to burn us down in the process,” D mumbles.
“I’ve got the high ground,” Killian says, ignoring our banter. I know he’s covering us with his sniper scope, making sure there are no surprises.
I should be focused on the mission, keeping my eyes peeled for Zhao as he pops his head out from wherever he’s hiding. Instead, my thoughts keep drifting back to Barbara. To how she saidEthan. To how she moaned my name without knowing I’m listening, watching, coming with her.
I grit my teeth and shake it off. Focus. Zhao’s not some street-level thug; he’s a trafficker high up in Black Ash. Men like him don’t deserve mercy—and I won’t give it.
