“I wouldn’t go that far,” Whisper deadpans.
Before we can make our exit, we all fall silent as Shadow enters the room. His stance is unsure, which isn’t like him at all. There’s a deep crease in his brow, and my heart rate ticks up. Is it Bellamy?
“They’re releasing Stealth from the facility in three days,” Shadow says, so softly I almost don’t hear him.
“Seriously?” Specter asks. “Oh my god. That’s amazing. Right? That means he’s good?”
Shadow nods, but he still looks shell-shocked. “They’ll have a list of instructions for us, but yes, he’s good and healthy again.”
“And…?” Ghost asks, tentatively. “He’s sober?”
“That’s what I’m told,” Shadow says. “Can a couple of you make sure his room is good to go? I’ll have the cleaning crew come in tomorrow, but I want to make sure it feels like home for him.”
“It is home,” I say. “I’m happy to check his room.”
“Me too,” Ghost says.
“Thanks, guys.” Shadow relaxes slightly.
“Are you okay, boss?” Specter asks.
“Yes. I guess I didn’t think the day would actually come, but I’m told he’s been working very hard on his recovery.”
“This is fucking amazing.” Phantom smiles. “We’ve got him, boss.”
“I know.” Shadow’s gaze finally settles on me and Specter and confusion spreads across his features. “Why the hell are you dressed like that?”
Colson chuckles, holding on to Specter’s arm.
“I have to go to a hockey game,” I explain. “Colson helped us try to blend in more.”
“Ah. I thought it was fucking Halloween or something for a minute.”
I chuckle at that then look down at my watch. “We should head out, Spec.”
“Let’s roll.”
Specter drives while I sit and go through my phone, looking at the target’s file again to refresh myself. He’s an average looking guy; handsome but you can see that his life has been hard. He has dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin, but the tattoo on his neck is unique. It looks like some kind of symbol in an intricate pattern. No clue what it is and it doesn’t look gang related.
All the pictures of him are candid shots he clearly wasn’t aware were being taken, but a few of them are clear enough to pick him out of a crowd. Patrick Gemelli. He’s also got almost zero internet presence. That’s why I have to show up at a hockey game to find him. The dude is slippery.
“What did you say this was about again?” Specter asks. “Blackmail or something?”
“That’s what Shadow said, but he didn’t have a lot of details. Just said it’s escalating and it needs to be taken care of before it goes public.”
“Hopefully he shows up tonight. These hockey tickets aren’t cheap.”
“I’m more worried that I’m gonna have to start caring about it if I have to keep attending games.”
“Eh, there are worse jobs to have.”
“True.”
We make it to the arena about thirty minutes before the game starts. I figured that would be a good way to keep an eye on those seats and see if the target shows up. Specter finds our seats and we have a decent view of the ones I need to see.
“I’m gonna take a piss,” I announce.
“Get beer,” Specter replies.
