Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Shan felt like driving, so I tossed him the car key once we were back outside.
“Don’t you think you speak a little too casually about killing, sweetheart?”
Was he serious?
“How did you become a millionaire, Shan?” I climbed into the passenger’s seat and buckled in. “How many turf wars have you participated in?”
He didn’t say a word to that, because he couldn’t. He’d had the same kind of upbringing as me. We’d both been born into the syndicate. We’d both had older family members with plans for us. We’d both taken lives.
“I’m just gonna call Eric.” I found his number and inserted my earbuds. Checking my watch, I figured he was at the office now. It was nine in the morning back home.
In the meantime, Shannon followed the GPS toward Le Havre.
“Hello,” Eric answered.
“Oi. We’re good to go,” I said. “Destination ETA six hours. We’re taking smaller roads as we get closer.”
“I was just about to call. We have a new location for you, and it might require you to get there fast. We’re seeing a lot of activity right now.”
That put me on edge. “Are they back stateside? How’s the crew doing in Italy?”
“Hold on, I—okay, now. Just wanted to run some interference for our friends at the NSA.” While he spoke, I put him on speaker so Shan could listen in. “We believe they’ve figured out our strategy,” Eric continued. “Best option they have to get rid of us is to take the heat we give them on their own turf and come here and proceed with their plan, so that’s what we think they’re doing.”
“So they’re in the city,” I stated.
That got us Shan’s undivided attention.
“Not yet,” Eric said. “We’re tracking smaller transactions to Boston, New York, and Miami. Presumably where they’re flying into. Your friend is working on finding more details on where they might be staying and how many there are. But my main concern is that the jig might be up as soon as a larger transaction is completed.”
Right, because that was the kind of money that funded bigger operations, such as taking out another syndicate.
“What’s the new location?” I asked.
“Étretat. I’m sending you a file. Have a look and confirm. We want this done as quickly as possible, and there won’t be a green light beforehand. You’re already cleared. Then get the fuck outta the country.”
“Got it. I’ll get back to you, mate.” I ended the call and dug out my tablet from the glovebox. God-fucking-dammit. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t wanna go home yet. We were supposed to have another thirteen days.
I logged on to our server and watched as a photo slowly depixelated. It was footage from a security camera at a Western Union agent in Étretat. A single man, short, older, maybe in his seventies, shoulder-length hair, impressive beer gut, he was holding a small dog and walked with a cane. So that was the funder.
Reaching over to the display on the dash, I typed in our new location before I continued reading the message. It was all the info we had on the man. We believed he was currently in Étretat, we didn’t know if he was alone, we didn’t have his identity, and my job was to find him and kill him.
Easy peasy or something.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw and sank into work mode.
Google, Google, Google. I’d visited Étretat before, a few years ago, but only overnight. I recalled a beautiful town center, very old, and a stunning beach with white cliffs and rock formations. There was a boardwalk too. What else could I learn about the little town?
I scanned the info that came up.
Twenty miles north of Le Havre, tiny population, fewer than two thousand—but that was still one hell of a haystack. I pinched my lips together and typed a quick message to Eric, confirming the job, and figured I’d just have to prepare a regular, boring stakeout. I’d need an apartment or a spot with a view of the Western Union place, because if the plan was for the funder to wire more money, then he’d be back there.
“I apologize for what I said earlier, Kellan.”
Apologize?
I looked over to Shan. “For what?”
He laughed through his nose. “Indicating you might discuss killing too casually. It was hypocritical of me—and I’ve lost sight of the syndicate’s goals. Hearing Eric speak was a wake-up call I needed.”
I reached over and squeezed his hand. “It’s fine. I get it.”
“It’s not fine at all,” he argued. “I’ve let things go too far. I’ve removed myself from the bigger picture, and…it’s too comfortable. I’ve become blind to the stress of keeping so many people safe, and that ends now. I have to become more involved again.”
Fucking hell, Finn was gonna become insufferable after this.
“Well, I know the boss. I can probably get you a job interview.” I powered down my tablet for now and stowed it away. I needed a break, and we had several hours on the road. And with that decided, I scooted closer to Shan and snuck under his arm.