I had to fire it. Just had to. The shooting range wasn’t going to be enough, either. I needed a real, live, soon-to-be-dead target.
Gavino had given me two assignments over the last few days, and it was time to take care of one of them. I had already completed most of the recon on a particular coke dealer named Henry Martin. He kept coming up short on his payments to Gavino, and his excuses were becoming less and less believable. Gavino wanted to make him an example, and I knew exactly where to find him.
Henry Martin was into hookers far more than I had ever been. He would go through a half dozen of them in a week, and I knew where he’d been picking them out lately. I also knew of a nice, tall building right down the street with a perfectly unobstructed view of the corner where he would likely pick up a whore.
I didn’t even have to wait long.
From the top floor of a high-rise apartment building, I located myself inside an abandoned unit at the far edge and watched Henry’s eighties-style Cadillac pull up to the corner. The position gave me a clear view of the area I was targeting on the other side of the river, and no one would be able to locate which unit I was in even if the shot was heard.
Without even using the bipod, I held the weapon up against my chest. I closed my eyes for a moment and reveled in the feeling of the Barrett’s stock against my shoulder and my hand on the grip. I opened my eyes again to look down the scope, make a couple of minor adjustments, and wait for Henry to position his car at just the right angle.
He seemed happy to comply.
I took a deep breath and slowly let it out through my mouth. As soon as all the air was out of my lungs, I pulled back on the trigger.
The kickback was welcomed. The scent of the blast entered my nose, and there was no way a hot meal on Christmas Eve ever smelled any better. I didn’t even care so much that the shot was perfect, clean, and precise—it was just having my rifle with me again that mattered.
As I slid the window closed, I couldn’t hear the screams of the hooker who had been leaning up against the car. I stood slowly, caressed the barrel, and quickly disassembled the rifle to put it back in the bag and make my exit. I went back to the hotel room and cleaned the whole weapon again just because I could.
Nothing could have completed me more than having my Barrett back.
Chapter 17—Altered Plans
“We spend too much time on this cargo,” Rurik was saying to Gavino as we all sat around his office and discussed the plans for the next shipment of human cargo. “We should focus on real money—drugs and caviar.”
“We must see this through.” Andrey shook his head. “We were cheated with the last batch Jenna picked up, and we must be sure we are not cheated again.”
“We weren’t cheated,” Jenna muttered. “It’s not like they crossed us on purpose.”
“You don’t know that,” Gavino growled. “That’s why you need a babysitter this time.”
“I am not babysitter!” Rurik shouted.
Andrey responded harshly in Russian, but Rurik was not to be dissuaded.
“You go, then!” Rurik said to the other Russian. “You go be caretaker for babies, and I will take care of caviar. Micah and I have more important businesses.”
Andrey glanced at Gavino, who only shrugged. Micah remained uncharacteristically silent.
“One of you must be there,” he said. “You want to be a bigger part of this organization, then you are going to represent.”
“It is dangerous,” Andrey remarked.
“Evan will be there for our safety.”
Rurik snorted and shook his head. I leaned back in my seat and raised my eyebrows at him as I took out a cigarette, and they all continued to argue over who was going to be where. Ultimately, Rurik talked his way out of the trip, and Andrey was assigned to go in his place.
He seemed very pleased with what was a very minor victory, I thought. Too pleased. If I gave a rat’s ass about Rurik, I might have paid more attention, but I didn’t.
I should have.
The meeting broke up, and I stood to leave. I needed to get all the details to Trent quickly so he would get o
ff my ass about it.
Jenna brushed up beside me as we were leaving.
“It looks like we’ll be working together in a couple weeks,” I said.