While most of the trailers we passed are in pretty bad shape, this one is newer, and the truck in the gravel drive is the nicest we’ve seen all day.
“I’m at the door,” I say over comms.
“I’ve got your back,” Erik replies.
I plaster on a smile and knock on the aluminum door under a yellow light swarming with flies and mosquitoes. A sweaty, shirtless man with bedhead opens the door.
“What?” he asks with a snarl.
“Carlos Espinoza?”
“Who wants to know? And don’t tell me you’re one of those fucking missionaries, or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
“No, I don’t believe in God,” I reassure him as I step into his space and run my favorite knife across his carotid arteries. The move is so quick he doesn’t quite understand what’s happened.
“Then wha—” he tries to say, his voice coming out garbled. He reaches for his throat and comes back with a bloody hand. He tries to talk again, but,oops, I’ve also sliced through his larynx—I find it goes a long way toward avoiding detection. He reaches for the gun in his waistband, but I’ve already picked that off him.
I lean in close, keeping my voice low.“Boo.”
He jerks at the soft word, and I raise my foot up, kicking him farther into his trailer before locking the door from the inside and pulling it shut.
“We’ve got the first one under control,” I say, meeting Erik at the car.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We head to our second one as Anders and Max call out their first one.
“Hop? Omar?” I ask.
“He decided to ask the guy a few questions,” Omar grumbles over the line.
“Hop, this is not that kind of a mission. It’s kill and go. Kill and go.”
“So you don’t want to know how many guards are in the warehouse? Or when the next shift ends?”
Several frustrated sighs come across the comms, but I answer, “Yes, of course, we want that information.”
“It’s the exact same schedule you gave us. He verified what we already know.”
“Thanks, Hop. Now, remember the name of the game is to get out of there unseen. So…”
Gunfire rattles through the comms, and Erik shakes his head. “I might kill Anders for inviting him.”
Omar’s and Hopper’s comms remain open. Omar’s smooth grunts tell us he’s quickly and efficiently killing bad guys while Hopper’s delighted giggle effectively tells us the same.
“The other two guys on our list were at the same location,” Omar says, his voice even.
“Literally no one is going to want to fuck with us after this one,” Hopper snickers.
“I’d ask what you did,” I say, “but I want to sleep tonight.”
“Good call,” Omar says dryly.
“You have to admit that when his eyeball popped out, it was pretty cool,” Hopper says, laughing at his own joke. “Oh, sorry. I’ll shut up now.”
Omar comes on the line. “Since we’re done here, we’ll start back toward the warehouse.” There’s a pause and a scuffle. “Hopper, I’d really rather be the one to drive.”
