Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“Absolutely, sir.” Finally, someone letting me play. Because he literally had no other options. “Tell me what to do. How many are there?”
“Two.” He cleared his throat and glanced over at some of the others, and he asked something in Spanish. A moment later, he looked back at me. “If we make it to their house, there will be three or four others to worry about—but it doesn’t make sense to me that they’d wanna expose their business. Chances are they have stateside operations in making money off the vulnerable.”
I shook my head grimly. “Do I have to aim for shoulders and knees or, you know…can we go for the head?”
“You eliminate threats,” he told me firmly. “Sometimes, that’s done by shootin’ them in the shoulder. Sometimes, that’s not enough. Use your head, recruit.”
Fair enough.
The way we picked up speed made it clear we were heading outside the city, so Coach and I sat down on the far ends of the benches. Because this would probably take a while. Coach reported to dispatch too, and he told backup to stand down and merely follow.
“They’re improvising this,” I noted. “The targets, I mean.”
“Without a doubt,” he muttered. “They’re not bright either. Everyone has a cell phone that can be traced, and I’m guessin’ they’re at a loss for how to remove ours.”
Exactly. I mean, they couldn’t have done anything earlier, but wherever they went now, they risked being followed. In addition, they had to know who they were dealing with since they’d targeted Hillcroft.
“The bomb that went off,” I said quietly. “Do you think it was supposed to be a warning?”
He tipped his head, weighing his answer. “It’s a possibility. On the other hand, it’s tough to cause a significant amount of destruction to our building, and they can’t get in. Blowing up the lobby or the delivery bay are the two options at ground level. One will guarantee a single loss of life, and the other might result in three or four casualties if you arrive at the time of a supply delivery.” He checked his watch, and I saw the seconds tick. It was a timer. I should’ve thought of that. He was keeping track of how long we’d driven. “I just know Gina’s gonna hand in her resignation now.”
“And that bothers you greatly,” I guessed. I had no idea why, but he looked really annoyed.
“You could say that.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
He furrowed his brow and glanced at me. “No? She’s just good at her job. She doesn’t leave much of an impression, she’s not overly nice—”
I snorted. “She’s flirted with Beckett.”
I remembered that from orientation day.
Coach blew out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ. Can you at least try to be subtle?”
Huh?
He stared at me. “How long have you and Beckett been fucking?”
Whoa! I-I…I… What did I say? How did he know? How had I not been subtle? I hadn’t said anything! Oh fuck, could this get Beckett into trouble? The fraternization policy at Hillcroft was so vague. Intimate relationships weren’t forbidden between operators and other employees, but HR needed to be involved at some point, and then there were special rules for recruits, and maybe I had skimmed that section.
“We will discuss this later,” Coach told me.
I swallowed and shifted in my seat.
Wonderful.
Next, he held up a finger and adjusted his earbud. “Yeah, speak.”
I looked over at the immigrants and mustered a polite smile. Hopefully, they found it reassuring. We weren’t going to turn them over to the authorities or anything. But I wanted to make sure they ended up in a better place than with the German fuckers who were exploiting them.
“I didn’t know he was on the East Coast,” Coach was saying. “In that case, can we put Squeezy on this? She’ll talk to him.”
Well, this was an interesting change of plans for my day. Safe to say, I wasn’t bored or dreading the rest of the week. This was actually fun. To be part of the action, to do something that mattered.
“Me no habla Español, sorry,” I said apologetically. “But we will help you, okay? We will help.”
They exchanged a couple glances in amusement and confusion, though they stayed on edge for the most part. Coach, on the other hand, gave me a look that said I was an idiot.
“Sorry,” I mouthed.
There was something wrong with me.
It was just…for the first time, nothing hurt. Maybe I should be more worried? A lot was going on, especially if Coach knew about Beckett and me, but I had faith that things would work out.
It was the strangest fucking feeling.
I brushed my hands together and eyed the cuts and scrapes I had—from when the explosion had catapulted me backward. They didn’t hurt either.
With a slight turn, I understood we were taking an exit somewhere, and I looked around to see if I could find anything useful. Coach wrapped up his conversation and spoke to the workers in Spanish, and he gestured to the floor.