Read Online Thresh: Alpha One Security: Book 2 by Jasinda Wilder - Free Book Online
Authors: Jasinda Wilder
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doorway of Lola’s building. He had the window open, one arm hanging out, the other propped up to hold the e-reader in front of his face.
Fifty yards away, with a clear profile of his head…he would be an easy shot if I had both hands. One-handed, my accuracy drops enough that I didn’t like the chances of getting him in one. Plus, a gunshot attracts attention, which was something I wanted to avoid and minimize as much as possible.
Since his attention was on Lola’s building, though, maybe I could use this opportunity to…elicit, shall we say…information?
I crossed the street, hugging the building on my left, approaching the Mercedes at a casual stroll. Reached behind my back, drew my P238, and kept it low against my right thigh, so it wasn’t readily visible. This could be tricky, one-handed—damn this useless fucking arm.
I slowed down as I reached the front passenger door, tucked the gun into my hip pocket, jerked open the door, sat down in the passenger seat, closed the door, and drew the pistol again, all in one swift movement. He never even saw me coming, the stupid bastard.
I aimed the Sig Sauer across my torso, steadying it in the crook of my sling-bound left arm. “Hands on the wheel, asshole.”
He moved slowly, setting down the e-reader—which was turned off—and put both hands on the steering wheel. “Can I help you? My car is not so new, not very useful to you, I don’t think. But you may have it, if you wish.” He had a thick accent, Eastern European. Czech, Ukrainian, something like that.
“Cut the shit. You’re watching that condo.” I thumbed back the hammer with a click .
“Ah.” He eyed me, and I saw recognition dawn. “You are him. The mark.”
“Guess so. You work for Cain?”
He shrugged. “He pays me, yes.”
“What’s the job with the girl? Watch her? Snatch her?”
“Watch. If I can grab her without trouble—” Another shrug to finish the thought.
“How many others are here in Miami? The dumbass trying to tail me, you, who else?”
That shrug again. “That is it, only. Two, no more.” His eyes cut away, though, as he said it.
I sighed. Holstered the pistol behind my back…
And drew the KA-BAR, lightning-fast, gripping the handle so the blade faced down. Slammed it into his right thigh, burying the blade to the hilt. He gritted his teeth and screamed through them. I left the blade in his leg and re-drew the pistol.
“Now—let’s have the truth. How many?”
He sucked in a ragged breath, swearing under his breath in his native tongue, whatever it was. “Three more. One more to watch this girl, I don’t know where he is, and the others are in a car, a few blocks away, in case— hovno , it hurts—in case something like this should happen. A few more on call if they should be needed.”
I checked the side-view mirror, scanned the street around us: empty, except for a bus slowly trundling toward us, “out of service” on the route screen.
It sure would be easier overall if I could just pop this guy in the head, quick and easy, but that’d be a mess, and Harris would be pissed if it got back to him. So I lashed out with the butt of the gun, catching him right at the base of his skull. He groaned, swayed forward—damn it…I had to hit him once more to put him under. They make that look so simple in the movies, but in reality, it’s actually pretty tricky.
I checked the unconscious man’s body, found a Glock and a spare clip, and stuffed the extra pistol behind the holster at the small of my back and the clip in my hip pocket. I withdrew my knife, cleaned the blade on his pants leg, left the car, trotted across the street to the condo building. It was an older building, with an intercom system; I used the same trick I had last time, pressing an intercom button at random.
“Hello?” A gruff male voice, older.
“Delivery.” I barked it, brusque, as if in a hurry.
“All right, yeah.”
The
Fifty yards away, with a clear profile of his head…he would be an easy shot if I had both hands. One-handed, my accuracy drops enough that I didn’t like the chances of getting him in one. Plus, a gunshot attracts attention, which was something I wanted to avoid and minimize as much as possible.
Since his attention was on Lola’s building, though, maybe I could use this opportunity to…elicit, shall we say…information?
I crossed the street, hugging the building on my left, approaching the Mercedes at a casual stroll. Reached behind my back, drew my P238, and kept it low against my right thigh, so it wasn’t readily visible. This could be tricky, one-handed—damn this useless fucking arm.
I slowed down as I reached the front passenger door, tucked the gun into my hip pocket, jerked open the door, sat down in the passenger seat, closed the door, and drew the pistol again, all in one swift movement. He never even saw me coming, the stupid bastard.
I aimed the Sig Sauer across my torso, steadying it in the crook of my sling-bound left arm. “Hands on the wheel, asshole.”
He moved slowly, setting down the e-reader—which was turned off—and put both hands on the steering wheel. “Can I help you? My car is not so new, not very useful to you, I don’t think. But you may have it, if you wish.” He had a thick accent, Eastern European. Czech, Ukrainian, something like that.
“Cut the shit. You’re watching that condo.” I thumbed back the hammer with a click .
“Ah.” He eyed me, and I saw recognition dawn. “You are him. The mark.”
“Guess so. You work for Cain?”
He shrugged. “He pays me, yes.”
“What’s the job with the girl? Watch her? Snatch her?”
“Watch. If I can grab her without trouble—” Another shrug to finish the thought.
“How many others are here in Miami? The dumbass trying to tail me, you, who else?”
That shrug again. “That is it, only. Two, no more.” His eyes cut away, though, as he said it.
I sighed. Holstered the pistol behind my back…
And drew the KA-BAR, lightning-fast, gripping the handle so the blade faced down. Slammed it into his right thigh, burying the blade to the hilt. He gritted his teeth and screamed through them. I left the blade in his leg and re-drew the pistol.
“Now—let’s have the truth. How many?”
He sucked in a ragged breath, swearing under his breath in his native tongue, whatever it was. “Three more. One more to watch this girl, I don’t know where he is, and the others are in a car, a few blocks away, in case— hovno , it hurts—in case something like this should happen. A few more on call if they should be needed.”
I checked the side-view mirror, scanned the street around us: empty, except for a bus slowly trundling toward us, “out of service” on the route screen.
It sure would be easier overall if I could just pop this guy in the head, quick and easy, but that’d be a mess, and Harris would be pissed if it got back to him. So I lashed out with the butt of the gun, catching him right at the base of his skull. He groaned, swayed forward—damn it…I had to hit him once more to put him under. They make that look so simple in the movies, but in reality, it’s actually pretty tricky.
I checked the unconscious man’s body, found a Glock and a spare clip, and stuffed the extra pistol behind the holster at the small of my back and the clip in my hip pocket. I withdrew my knife, cleaned the blade on his pants leg, left the car, trotted across the street to the condo building. It was an older building, with an intercom system; I used the same trick I had last time, pressing an intercom button at random.
“Hello?” A gruff male voice, older.
“Delivery.” I barked it, brusque, as if in a hurry.
“All right, yeah.”
The
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