Delgado looked from Talon to Jug to Wolf, his eyes showing the desperate hope of a man who’d been given an unexpected chance at survival. Hetook a hesitant step toward the door, then paused, looking back at Talon.
"I never wanted anyone to get hurt," he said quietly. "I want you to know that. I'm not a killer. I'm just … I was just trying to keep my job. Vincent Harrow, he ordered me to cause that accident."
Talon studied him for a long moment. Years of evaluating potential threats led to his ability to read the truth. The man’s posture and expression hid nothing. What he saw was a weak man who’d made increasingly poor choices when placed under pressure. Delgado was a stupid fuck, sure, and he was dangerous in his desperation but not inherently evil.
"I believe you," Talon said finally. "But believing you and trusting you are two different things. Don't make me regret giving you this chance."
Delgado nodded rapidly. Mannerisms of a man who’d been granted a reprieve from execution. He slipped past Jug and into the bedroom without a backward glance, his house slippers shuffling against the floor as he disappeared.
Talon watched him go, his expression hard. Through the thin walls of the prefab, he could hear Delgado moving with frantic efficiency. Drawers opened and closed quietly. He nodded to his men, and they drifted out of the apartment. From theshadows, they watched and listened to the sounds of a hasty departure. Talon tracked the man to the parking lot. With the slam of a car door and the cough of an engine turning over, Mauro Delgado drove away from his old life and into whatever future awaited him.
Wolf stepped up beside Talon, his voice quiet in the desert stillness. "Think he'll stay gone?"
Talon considered the question. Fear was a powerful motivator, but so was familiarity and the basic human resistance to change. Delgado would be tempted to contact his handler, to try to salvage his position, to convince himself he could somehow navigate between the competing threats that now defined his existence.
"For a while," Talon said finally. "Long enough for us to deal with whoever else is pulling the strings. After that …" He shrugged, the gesture encompassing all the variables they couldn't control.
Jug moved from the shadows. They all walked toward the hole in the fence line where they’d entered. "So, what's next?"
Talon looked out at the mining camp. In the distance, he could see the glow of the main apartment buildings where Riley was sleeping.
Another loose thread had been pulled. And now he knew exactly where to tug next.
"Now, we go hunting," he said quietly. "Vincent Harrow just became Guardian’s target."
Jug frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”
“The man who ordered the accident.”
“Oh, I didn’t catch the name when Mauro was spilling his guts,” Jug said. “I could go back to the States and take care of him for you.” Jug shrugged like it was no big deal. Talon put his hand on Jug’s shoulder.
“We’d all kill for each other, but this isn’t one of those times. Not yet,” Talon said before the three men melted back into the desert darkness.
CHAPTER 20
Talon leaned against the small table in his quarters, phone pressed to his ear. “Ethan. Hey, been a long time.”
There was a pause. “Why are you calling me from … Burundu? Damn, man. What is wrong, and why aren’t you calling Guardian instead of me?”
Talon sat down hard and rubbed his face. “Ethan, I need something off the books. I could go to Guardian, but this is for a personal friend. A very close personal friend. And it isn’t necessarily in line with my current operation.”
Talk about a pregnant pause. Talon looked at his phone to see if he was still connected. Finally, he heard Ethan typing. “Sorry, had to get into mycomputer room. You got a woman? Well, hell, that is fucking shocking as hell. What about theI am an islandstance you’ve had going since the Siege?”
Talon rolled his eyes. “Screw you, man.”
“Nah, my wife would be upset.” Ethan threw the quip back without missing a beat.
“I didn’t say congratulations, did I? Man, I suck.”
“Yeah, you do, but family is family, and I forgive you.”
They weren’t related by blood, but by choice. Ethan was the half-brother of his Grandfather Frank’s adopted sons, Dixon and Drake.
There was a pause on the other end, followed by the low, almost amused rumble of Ethan Wolf’s voice. “So, you have a woman. Good. Now, give me some information. Off-the-books requests usually mean there’s trouble.”
“It does,” Talon replied. “I need everything you can dig up on Harlan Shoemaker and every company tied to him. All shells, subsidiaries, offshore fronts, whatever. You know what to look for better than I do. He’s got leases all over the world for rare element mining and processing. Riley, his daughter, was targeted by an accident and almost died. Something’s not right there.”
“Define not right,” Ethan said, fingers already clicking over a keyboard. “So, you don’t think Shoemaker is complicit?”
