I’ve been doing this for too long though to let appearances get in the way of taking a target seriously. If someone is on the Night Ops Guard’s radar as a threat, then that’s enough for me to be giving him the exact same treatment I would anyone else, even if his perfectly plump lips and slender physique are ticking all my boxes.
Fuck. Focus your mind.
Target in place.
Observe.
I sip on my espresso and make another subtle glance toward the target. His name is Miles Nadal, and apparently he’s a lawyer who likes to stick his nose in places where it doesn’t belong. With his sights set on exposing the Night Ops Guard, I’ve been given a very clear brief…
Assess the threat. Do what is required to neutralize it.
Now this might sound like I’ve been told to take the boy out. Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But I know that if there’sone thing that simply cannot happen, it’s the Guard being exposed to the public. Not only would this be ruinous for the Guard itself, but it would be a death sentence for each and every Guard, past and present.
Not only would the law be chasing us down with all their reach, but so too would the many cartels, war lords, and corrupt politicians we’ve crossed over the years.
As it stands now, the Guards are protected by anonymity, the organization running so efficiently in the shadows that to this day not a single one of us has ever been exposed or put in a danger outside of a mission.
But if this veil was to be lifted, all bets would be off.
The Guard simply cannot let that happen.
And it’s fallen on me to make sure it doesn’t.
I watch as the boy sips on his drink—a hot chocolate that looks suspiciously like it’s been overloaded with marshmallows—and something isn’t adding up.
I know Miles is a lawyer, and I know too that he has a history of digging up injustice and criminality. So far, so good. But I also know that the law firm he works for has some less than savory clients too.
I’m talking about the kind of client who the Guard would typically retain more than a passing interest in. Is Miles aware of this? Could it be that him justice seeking is simply a cover-up for all the evil assholes that Knox & Rain protect?
The reality of the situation is that whether Miles is in on Knox & Rain’s game or not, there’s no way I can allow him to keep working on making the Night Ops Guard a known entity.
It’s simply not happening.
But I am going to give the boy enough credit to know that there’s no way I can sit here and not expect to arouse his suspicions. So that’s why I’ve called for a little help…
“Guys, guys, keep the noise down,” I chuckle as I watch Cole and Max enter the diner, laughing with their boys Richie and Billie. “If I’d known you were all tipsy, I wouldn’t have invited you!”
As I greet my fellow Guards and their rambunctious Littles, I notice that a departing Miles is taking a quick look, his eyes running us over, no doubt dismissing us as nothing more than a group of friends bringing some unwanted extra volume to a late night diner.
That’s perfect.
Any thoughts he would have had about me—a late night loner in his regular diner—will be put on the backburner and no doubt totally out of his mind. Sometimes, it pays to be a little more obvious, to drop your guard and draw attention to yourself. It’s what they call hiding in plain sight, and it’s actually a pretty damn cool maneuver to bring out of the bag from time to time.
“So… that’s the target?” Max asks, sliding into the booth.
“Damn. Rather you than me,” Cole chuckles.
“Hey, listen,” I say. “We’re still at the early stages of this. I might not need to take it all the way to…”
I let my words trail off as I’m conscious that Richie and Billie could be listening to me and my fellow Guards as we talk. Although in reality I think the pair of them are far more interested in scanning the diner’s menu for the sweetest and most sugary late night snacks they can find.
“Fun night?” I ask, happy to see that both Cole and Max are seemingly enjoying some well-earned rest and recuperation with their boys.
“It was a lot of fun,” Max replies. “We were actually only a few blocks from here. There’s a café run by a Daddy and his Little. They do late night events from time to time.”
“Yup. It got pretty wild,” Cole says, casting a look of pure lust over toward Richie. “You would have loved it. Maybe next time?”
“Maybe,” I say, my mind still whirring over Miles and the look he gave as he left—it was almost like he recognized the vibe between Cole and Max and their boys. “It’s not always great to be a single guy at these things though. Being the third wheel isn’t exactly a barrel of laughs.”
