I didn’t point out the obvious. That if Marcus was trying to kill Owen, he might not be so trustworthy. Instead I reached over and toggled the heat switch on. It was chilly despite the season.
“Alright. Where does dear brother Marcus live?”
WE STOPPED AT a run-down inn on the outskirts of London. Somewhere I could pay cash and not worry about anything. The owner barely batted an eyelash at us which was exactly what I had been looking for when we chose the place. We’d put the truck in a garage a few blocks away. It wouldn’t be on the street for someone to spot and was far enough away that we’d be safe for the night.
Ava was staring at the little room in concern. Her nose was wrinkled and she hadn’t touched anything. I was trying not to laugh, but it was hard when she leaned over to examine the film of dust growing on the crystals hanging from one of the lamp shades.
She had tucked her pistol in her pants and tore down the rifle so it would fit in my bag, but the old room offended her. Who would have guessed that the sweet woman at the café would know how to handle a gun? She seemed nervous with them and I guessed it had been a while since she had used one, but at least she hadn’t screamed and run away.
“It doesn’t look that bad.” I sat the bag down on the chair.
“What room are you looking at? It smells like someone died in here.”
“It’s possible.” I shrugged and opened the blinds to look out over the street.
“Oh my God.”
“Relax. I’m sure they washed the sheets.” I snapped the blinds closed and turned on the television and flipped through the channels. There was nothing on the news about the disaster at my place, so I turned it back off.
“I need to check a few things.” I tossed the remote on the bed. Ava turned around, her blue eyes wide. “I’ll pick up some food while I’m out.”
“You’re going to leave?” She said the words flatly, even though I could see the panic in her eyes.
“I’ll be back soon.” I went through the bag and pocketed some of the money before grabbing one of the belt holsters for my pistol. The .45 was my favorite and I wasn’t going anywhere without it.
“What if you aren’t?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “What if you don’t come back?”
“I’m coming back, Ava.”
“You think you’re coming back.” She took a deep breath. “What if you can’t come back?”
“If I don’t come back, use the money to get to your consulate. Tell them I kidnapped you but you managed to get away.” She could do that while I was gone, but I had to show her trust to get trust. And I wanted her to trust me. “But I am coming back.”
She stared at me and for a moment I felt lost in her eyes. There was so much emotion trapped there that I wondered how she was staying so calm.
“Okay.” She nodded her head.
“Lock the door and stay away from the window. I’ll be back with some food soon.” I didn’t smile. I wanted her to know I was serious, that I would be back—even if I had to climb out of the grave to do so.
There was a very short list of things that scared me. And I’d managed to fall head first into my number one fear—caring about someone. In less than a week, Ava had managed to turn my entire, well-compartmentalized world upside down. Turning away from her, I left the room quickly. No reason to draw this out.
I heard the deadbolt click into place after I left. Good girl. No one knew we were here and Marcus would have no reason to look for me at this place. Not only did I never share the details about my hits with him, I never stayed in the same hotel or inn. In a place like London, that wasn’t a hard thing to do. Every grandmother or uncle owned an inn or a hotel in this town.
It was summer time, but there was still enough chill in the air to wear a light jacket. There had been an old jumper in the back of the truck, so I pulled the hood up around my face and headed for a nearby store. I needed a burner phone and some supplies. A change of clothes would be nice as well.
I stopped in a small store and grabbed a basket. I threw in some essentials: soap, shampoo for Ava, a knife sharpener, deodorant, toothpaste, and some duct tape. There were racks of clothing on the other side of the store. I guessed at sizes for Ava and grabbed a few things for me. There were some clearance items at the front of the store and I grabbed a shirt for Ava to sleep in.
There were very few people that I trusted; of the few people I had met over the years, Roger was one of the people I would trust the most. He lived in a small house within walking distance, which is why I had chosen this side of town. It wouldn’t take me long to get there so I skipped the Tube. I bought a lot of my firearms from him and I could always count on him to get me explosives. There wasn’t much Roger couldn’t find.
I watched from a nearby store for a while before going in his gate. The man was trustworthy, but paranoid as all hell. He wouldn’t take kindly to me just showing up at his home, but he’d have to deal. This was a special circumstance.
I rang the doorbell and waited. I kept my hands out of my pockets so he could see them and pushed my hood back far enough that he would recognize my face. The door opened a crack and Roger peered out at me.
“Well, fuck it all.” The door snapped shut while he undid the chain and then back open. “Get in! Hurry the fuck up before someone sees you.”
“Nice to see you too, Rog.” I slid in past him and pushed the hood back the rest of the way.
“What the fuck happened to you? The fucking internet has blown up. Did you know there is a hit out on you? Mavis still hasn’t checked in with our group and Thomas Delaney is apparently dead. You’ve got some nerve showing up at my house right now. You could have led them straight to me.” He walked past me toward a small kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make tea.”
“Thanks, but I’m in a hurry.” His dog looked up at me from where he lay on the floor. “Who put the contract out?”
Roger didn’t answer me, just putted around the kitchen for a few minutes. He rinsed his kettle out before filling it back up and setting it on the stove. He took out two cups and set them on the counter. The handle of one of them was a pistol grip. I took it and managed to not shake my head in dismay.
“Have you spoken to your brother?”
“No, but I intend to.” I sat down on the stool at the counter. Roger was the only person I worked with that knew of my connection to Marcus.
“Then you already know.” He sat down and looked up at me. His glasses perched on the end of his nose. “When a handler turns on their operative it’s always bad news. Our group was waiting to see if you made it out.”
“If he wanted me dead, he didn’t send enough people.” I leaned forward, my arms resting on the counter. “Has there been any talk about a hit on an American?”
“The woman someone said was with you? No. Not a hit. I’ve heard rumblings though.” He took his glasses off and wiped them on his robe. “Abduction.”
“Abduction?” I leaned back and thought about it. That explained why the squad hadn’t taken any good shots at her. “What for?”
“These people aren’t all like you, Owen. Most of them don’t care the why or what of it. They want the money or the hunt. They don’t ask for a reason.” He shook his head. “You’re a rare card.”
“Who put the job out?”
“It came from Marcus.” Roger narrowed his eyes. “I don’t deal with human trafficking. Nasty business. A good clean kill is one thing, selling a person is another fucking matter. But since it came from Marcus the word got back to me.”
“Why her? Why this woman?” It didn’t make sense. The connections weren’t adding up and I didn’t believe in coincidence. Had Marcus turned on me because I’d taken Ava under my wing?
“Not sure. The job was for the American. She wasn’t to be hurt, which isn’t too unusual. Either they want her as a hostage or a slave.” He cocked his head to the side. “You have her?”
“Does it look like I have a woman tucked in my pocket?” No reason to give up any information that I didn’t have to.
“Owen, you’ve always been an odd fit for this job. You still have a heart and most people kill theirs before they reach your age. If you have that woman, you better get her out of the country.” The kettle whistled and he stood up to fix the tea. “The game has changed.”
“How much has Marcus offered?” I stood up and stretched. It had been a long few days.
“Forty thousand for the girl.” He smiled up at me. “But for you, he had to make it worth it, didn’t he? People aren’t going to go after Owen Walker without good incentive. No, for you, he’s offered up five million.”
“I need some ammo.” What the hell was wrong with Marcus? Why would he set such a high price on my head and then not send a larger squad to mum’s old house?
“Well, that I can get you, my boy. That I can get you.” Roger led me to a room in the back of the house, his tea forgotten. The room was lined with racks of gun parts and boxes of ammo. I rubbed my hands and smiled at the old man.
Some men liked gadgets, but I was all about the guns. The smell of the gun oil and hot metal was an aphrodisiac. And the two forty-five millimeter Springfield XDs sitting in the corner were giving me a hard on. I walked over and took them off the wall and gave them a thorough run down. Roger didn’t sell shit, but you never took a gun without looking it over.
Roger cackled as he watched me. “You always did like the shiny things.”
“These.” I set them down on a table. “Do you have anything smaller?”
“For the woman?” Roger opened a cabinet and pulled out a smaller version of the guns I had picked up. “Nine millimeter. Subsonic ammo.” He tossed me a box of bullets and I set them on the table next to my gun.
“Do you have any burner phones?”
“How many do you need?” Roger opened the drawer of a work table and pulled out two packages.
“That’ll do.” I grabbed a bag from the floor and tossed my items in.
“Meh. Take this too.” Roger sat a knife and more ammo down.
“What do I owe you?”
“We’ll talk after you get this straightened out.”
“Five million dollars puts a big target on my head.” I watched him carefully. “I might not get it straightened out.”
“Always been a bettin’ man.” He slapped me on the back. “I think you got a good race in you still.”
“Thanks.” I headed back to the front door and stopped to pet the dog. He barely moved. “You need a better guard dog.”
“Bah. He’s never been a guard dog. Too fat like his owner.” Roger opened his robe and showed me the Desert Eagle in a shoulder holster. “This is my guard dog.”
“That’s a lot of gun, old man.”
“Get outta here before I decide to show ya what I can do with it.”
“Be safe.”
“Be smart.” Roger slammed the door behind me, but I could still hear him laughing.
I slid the rucksack over my shoulder and headed for a take-away place. Once I had enough food, I headed back to the hotel. I’d been gone for two hours already and would bet Ava was getting fidgety.
I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door before using the key the desk had given me.
“It’s me.” I opened the door slowly, but didn’t see her at first. She was on the other side of the room, her gun pointed at the door. She’d picked a good spot to take out someone walking in the room.
“Where the hell have you been?” She didn’t lower the gun as I walked in and closed the door. “You’ve been gone for hours.”
“I had to see a friend.” I held up the Chinese take-away. “I brought food.”
“If you didn’t get chicken lo mein I’m going to shoot you in the foot.” She narrowed her eyes and I frowned.
“I got lo mein.”
“Okay then.” She lowered the gun and walked over to me. She snatched the bag out of my hands and started unloading the contents on the little table. “I used some of the soap from the bathroom to clean the table off, so I don’t think we’ll die from Staph or Salmonella.”
“Thanks.” I set the rucksack and other bags down on the bed. It was odd coming back to someone. Weird to know she had been busy while I was gone; to have someone to talk with as I ate. “I got some clothes. I had to guess at your size.”
“Thanks. I really want a shower and don’t want to put these back on.”
“No problem.” I sat down and grabbed some chopsticks. “I have some good news and some bad news. Apparently the people in the garage were not trying to kill you.”