“It’s not my fault you two sleep like the dead. I knocked and called your names.” He leaned in. “Twice.”
“Next time, knock louder.” Nick glanced at the window. “It’s not even daybreak yet, which means either this Reaper asshole found us, or you’ve got intel you don’t think can wait.”
“Not me, but Tierney told me to drag your asses to the control room if needed, so…” He backed up. “Slip on some clothes. I’ve got coffee brewing. You two look like you need the hit.”
Sloane huffed as the door closed behind Buck. “See what I mean? A week, Nick. Remember that. You promised me a full week.”
Nick grinned, leaned over as he kissed her perfect mouth. “Promise. And think of it this way, the faster we find out where they’re keeping Kessler and who this Reaper asshole is, the closer we are to seven days of uninterrupted adult time.”
She tsked when he went to pull away, yanking him down for one more soul-searing make-out session before rolling out of bed. She tugged on some clothes, hips rocking rhythmically as she eased the pants over her hips, layered on his hoodie.
He came up behind her, nuzzled her neck. “Damn, you look good in my clothes.”
She smiled as she glanced back at him. “Then, it’s a good thing you look incredible out of them.”
He tapped her ass, loving the stink eye she flashed him as he took her hand, heading for the main area.
Sloane stopped him just shy of crossing the threshold. “I realize Buck knows…” She gestured between them. “But with the way I’m feeling, anyone who looks at me is gonna know we didn’t just sleep in that bed. That I’m a goner where you’re concerned.”
“You say that like they didn’t already know.” He laughed at her swat. “If you’re trying to ask me if I care that they know we’re together, the answer’s no. In fact, I’d get a tattoo with your name in it if I didn’t think you’d shoot me in the ass for being one. So, stop worrying, and let’s go see what Tierney uncovered.”
Fresh coffee permeated the air, overpowering the ever-present mix of ozone and brine, the pot hissing in the background as a few drops sizzled against the element. Buck handed them each a mug as they walked into the room.
Tierney leaned against a short counter, gaze following their every move before making the rounds of the room, searching the shadows, the doors, then back to them. She looked tense, only marginally relaxing as Buck shouldered up beside her, acting as if they were gathering to chat about the weather.
Nick sighed. “I take it the news isn’t good.”
A snort, followed by a rough breath. She pushed off the side. “I guess that depends on your definition of good. But no, I don’t imagine we’re gonna see this intel as favorable.”
“Figured as much.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Well, might as well just lay it all out.”
Tierney nodded. “You always were the type to just rip off the bandage.” She held up her tablet. “My contact just sent me the dossier Interpol has on our friend, the Reaper. Sadly, no known name, and no photos. The guy’s a ghost.”
She handed Nick the tablet. “Those are photos of the aftermath of some of his hits. He favors soft deniability — accidents, missing persons, storm losses, boating incidents, unless that doesn’t pan out, then he jumps straight to overkill. No middle ground. His targets either vanish, or it’s a blood bath. He’s got immense resources. We’re talking drones, explosives, high-tech gadgets that are likely black market CIA equipment.”
Sloane frowned. “So, he doesn’t shoot first and worry about who he killed later?”
Tierney shook her head. “Not if he has a choice. He gets paid to erase people, not broadcast a hit, though, we’d be foolish to assume that strategy holds true for the two of you. You’re not his typical target, and with the size of the bounty on your heads, let alone the bonus, he can’t afford to fail.”
Nick flicked through the images, each one more gruesome than the last. “Okay so, pretty much what we assumed. Lethal. Enjoys the kill. Anything else?”
“Only that he’s already in Oregon. Interpol clocked one of his aliases clearing customs several hours after your burn notice went live.”
“Which means, the bastard’s been hunting us from the start. Has likely spent the past few days narrowing down the limited number of places we could have gone dark after that water incident. And this place will eventually ping his radar.”
Tierney grabbed a bag she’d placed on a chair. “Which is why we need to move. In fact, if I’d known your damn boss had hired someone of this caliber and not just those rednecks we encountered, I would have had you stay at my place. But, with those mercenaries on your tail, all the roads crawling with unfriendlies, this seemed like a better option.”
Nick hooked her arm. “You’ve saved my ass twice. I can’t ask for more than that. But I agree. We’ll bug out, head to your cabin?—”
A hum.
Low. Barely sounding above the waves rolling against the rocks. It grew louder, then faded, a faintclicksounding above them.
Nick rounded the table, headed straight for the bank of cameras. He cycled through a few, stopping at the roof feed. “Damn.”
Sloane moved in beside him. “Are those drones?”
“Lots of them. And I don’t think they’re simply sitting up there, listening…” He inhaled as the units dropped what looked like molten lava on the roof before continuing on. Red liquid enveloped large sections melting onto the vents and satellite arrays. “Shit, they’re mini thermite drones, we need?—”
Smoke.
Thick.
Yellow.
Pouring in through the scrubbers. Filling the upper half of the room with a pungent stench.
Nick coughed as he grabbed Sloane, pulled her in close. “Guess we’re a minute too late. The bastard’s already here.”
