Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
The meeting found its rhythm after that, and no one else dared to say anything out of pocket, or thoughtless.
Forty minutes later, Tech cut in through comms.
“I’ve got a suspicious stationary two o’clock from Starlight.”
Cassidy’s heart leapt to his throat, but he stayed planted.
Tech’s voice was as calm as if he was discussing the weather.
“Male, late twenties, tan beanie, gray shirt, phone in hand.”
Cassidy checked the location only long enough to confirm before returning to his zone.
“Approaching for contact,” Tech replied. “Ruxs, close rear. Green, hold AOR. Morrison, stay principal-side.”
“Copy,” Cassidy said.
Tech dropped a few bills onto the bar for his espresso, picked up his tablet, and walked across the dining room.
He looked like the kind of man who dined there on a regular basis—immaculately pressed blue shirt, patterned silk bow tie, and slim charcoal trousers.
He reached the man’s table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
The guy’s eyes widened as he started to stand.
Ruxs appeared behind him and dropped one big hand onto his shoulder, forcing him back into the chair with enough pressure to eliminate any further idea of leaving.
Ruxs sat beside him as though they were old friends meeting for lunch.
Tech leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and stared.
The stranger opened his mouth, but Tech lifted one finger to his own lips and shushed him.
Tech took out his phone, snapped the guy’s picture, and tucked it away. “Free, run it.”
“Hey,” the guy protested.
Ruxs clamped his hand on the man’s shoulder again and squeezed, making him grimace so hard he almost doubled over.
“Let’s not cause a scene,” Ruxs said, voice menacing beneath the fake smile. “We don’t want things to get ugly.”
“I’m just here to eat,” the guy rushed out.
“That’s funny,” Tech said. He plucked the single-page menu off the table and glanced at it. “The waitress came over six times already, and you still haven’t ordered. I guess these ten options really have you stumped.”
“The prices are a little high,” the man muttered.
“Then why not leave?” Tech asked. “There’s a McDonald’s around the corner.”
“I was just about to.”
“After you finished what you came to do, right?”
“What?” The man shook his head too fast. “No. I don’t know what you mean.”
Free came back through comms. “Mark Dugan. Twenty-four. No warrants or violent priors. Just a few dozen misdemeanor trespass citations and panhandling spanning six years. No record of employment.”
Tech’s gaze stayed on the man. “Look, Mark. I’ve been in this line of work long enough to know when someone is doing recon.”
The man went pale at the use of his name. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Ruxs snatched the phone from his hand.
“Hey!”
“Burner,” Ruxs said as he scrolled the phone. “No contacts, call logs. Nothing on it except for the two dozen photos of Xander…and us.” He paused. “Wow. Next time shoot from my right. That’s my good side.”
The guy looked as if he was about to shit himself.
“I’m a huge fan, okay?” he said. “I’ve never seen Xander Vale up close.”
Tech set the menu down with delicate precision.
“Mark, I’ve also been in this line of work long enough to know a flunky when I see one. So tell us who sent you, and I might overlook your bad intentions and that ill-fitting shirt.”
“I swear I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“Okay, this can go one of two ways,” Ruxs cut in, sounding annoyed. “One, you don’t give me the name of the guy who hired you to tail Xander, and I take you in the back and beat the shit out of you. Or two, you tell me who hired you, I slam your face into the table, break your nose, and let you go.”
Mark’s breathing turned choppy.
Ruxs leaned closer. “Fifteen broken bones or one. Choose quickly.”
Cassidy stared across the dining room.
What kind of detective method is that?
No wonder God’s men were feared all over Atlanta…and his team under audit.
“Okay, okay.” Mark lifted his hands. “All I was asked to do was take some pictures of Xander Vale and his bodyguards and drop the phone at the place they texted.”
Tech leaned forward. “Who asked you to do that?”
“I was at my usual spot on the boulevard selling my star maps, when some random guy walked past and dropped this phone and two hundred bucks into my tip can. He didn’t look at me or say anything, just dropped it and kept walking.”
“One guy?”
“Yeah.”
“And…”
“As soon as he dropped it, it rang.” The guy shrugged. “So I answered. And the person told me to just tuck my shirt in, come in here and take some pictures, and he’ll give me four hundred more.”
“Where’d he tell you to meet him after?” Tech asked.
“I don’t know. I’m supposed to get a text. I drop it, and my money’s supposed to be there waiting.”
Tech tilted his head.
“That’s all I know, I swear. It was all done through the phone.”