Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents 3)

Mercer’s head cocked as he studied Gunner. His fingers kept drumming. “What do you value most in this world?”

Sydney. Her name whispered through his mind, but he didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

Mercer nodded. “And just what would you be willing to do in order to protect what you value?”

Anything. Even let her go. Before he could answer, a knock sounded on the door.

Mercer held his gaze for a moment longer. Then he said, voice cool and calm, “Come in.”

Sydney came in first. Gunner tried to school his expression. He’d stayed away from her, tried to give her the space that she needed. She loved Slade, so that meant he was supposed to step aside, right?

Then why did it feel so damn wrong?

Logan followed her inside the office, with Cale right at his heels.

Gunner’s gaze, almost helplessly, drifted over Sydney. She looked too pale, and she seemed thinner.

His lips compressed.

“Glad you could all join me,” Mercer murmured, “because it seems that we have one very big problem on our hands.” His fingers had stilled over the manila file. “Just what are we going to do about Slade Ortez?”

“Do?” Sydney repeated as she crept toward the table. Since when did she creep any place? “What do you mean by that?” She waited a beat, then added, “Sir,” as if she realized she was coming across too hard.

One of Mercer’s dark brows rose. “You know he’s threatening to go to the media.”

“Every damn day,” Logan muttered, taking the seat closest to Mercer. “It’s getting harder to keep him in check. I thought his behavior would settle down the longer he was here, but that’s not happening.”

“We have to stop him.” Mercer motioned for the others to take their seats. When Cale sat near Logan, Gunner had no choice but to sit near Sydney. Her scent rose up, filling his nose. So sweet. That light vanilla that haunted him.

“Just what do you have in mind?” Cale asked cautiously.

Mercer pursed his lips, but instead of answering, he flipped open the manila file. “Have any of you heard about a drug called muerte?”

Death. Gunner leaned forward. He made sure not to touch Sydney. “It’s a black-market drug from South America.” He’d heard rumors about the drug for a few months.

“One that’s supposed to be highly addictive,” Logan added.

Mercer studied the papers before him. “Highly addictive, and very deadly to its users. It can cause increased aggression, paranoia and even hallucinations.” He glanced up at them, letting his gaze drift over the group. “The DEA believes that muerte first appeared in Peru, but now it’s being transferred all the way up the chain to Mexico.” He paused, then said “It hasn’t made its way to the U.S. yet.”

Gunner waited, knowing there was more to come. Mercer wouldn’t be telling them about the drug unless it related to the case. To Slade.

Increased aggression. Paranoia.

“We ran a tox screen on Slade Ortez shortly after he was brought back to the States.” The papers rustled in Mercer’s hands. “The screen showed that he had high levels of the drug in his system. More tests indicated that he’d been using for...quite some time.”

Gunner felt as if a fist had just slammed into his chest.

“You think...” Sydney’s voice was hesitant. “You think his captors made him take the drug?”

Mercer’s bald head tilted to the side. “They could have used it to keep him better controlled. Controlled prisoners are the easiest to handle,” he said, and Gunner knew the man was talking from dark experience. Then Mercer sighed. “The way the man is making these threats, the way he’s fighting every shrink I send to help him...I think the muerte is still affecting him.”

“Can it have an impact after so long?” Cale asked. “He’s been here for weeks.”

“Muerte is one of the most dangerous drugs that the DEA has seen.” Flat. “Its effects are far-reaching, and our government researchers think that some of the behavior changes can be permanent for the users.”

Gunner shook his head.

But Mercer wasn’t done. “Once a user’s on it, it’s nearly impossible to break free.”