Page 5 of Disavowed

He knew firsthand the guy was an expert marksman with multiple wartime kills. Giving him the opportunity to reach for another hidden weapon… Not gonna happen.

He gripped his gun tighter. He was fully prepared to make good on his warning to shoot the other man but hoped to hell he didn’t have to. It would set his plan back at least another six months.

Unacceptable.

Speaking of unacceptable, he likewise hoped their little wrestling match hadn’t attracted the other teams sweeping the warehouse. He was counting on Gray to keep them all busy until he gave the signal.

Now they were both illuminated by sufficient light that each could see the other man’s face. It had been nearly fifteen years, but he still recognized him.

Jack Schneider. Traitor to the army uniform, and to every man and woman who died protecting the American way of life.

“Get up,” he ordered, then watched as Schneider stood slowly to his full height. Dom had forgotten how big the bastard was. At about six-two and nearly two hundred pounds, they were nearly the same size. “Put your hands on top of your head and interlace your fingers.”

Schneider’s face was now hidden partially by shadow, but Dom intentionally remained in the light, waiting for the moment of recognition.

“Sonofabitch.” Schneider’s face twisted into a hesitant grin. “That you, Carew?”

He pretended to search Schneider’s face, as if he were struggling to recall the man’s identity. This had to look like a purely coincidental encounter, when in reality it was a well-planned and carefully executed meeting.

“Schneider?” He feigned surprise, cracking a smile that he didn’t feel in the slightest. “Sonofabitch is right.” He lowered his gun, keeping his finger on the trigger. Like him, Schneider had been Delta and was fully capable of killing a man silently and efficiently with his bare hands. Courtesy of the taxpayers.

“You aren’t really gonna shoot me, are ya, buddy?” Schneider lowered his hands from his head, outstretching his arms in question.

“That depends.” He eyed Schneider with suspicion. “You gonna run on me?”

“Truce,” Schneider said. “For old time’s sake?”

Atta boy, asshole. Play right into my trap like a puppet on a string.

Hesitantly, he lowered his weapon, then shoved it into his holster. “What the hell are you doing here?” He dipped his head to the table covered with weapons.

Schneider snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

A shout of all clear at the far end of the warehouse had him whipping his gaze down the aisle. His partner could hold the troops off for only so long before they’d come to check on him. Every second was crucial.

“Try me.” He stepped to within a couple feet of Schneider.

Schneider indicated the flask that had fallen from Dom’s hand during the scuffle. “A little early to be hitting the bottle, isn’t it, Officer Carew?”

“Not your business.” Just part of the plan. “And that’s Detective Carew, to you.”

“My apologies, Detective.” Schneider’s tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Apology accepted.” Time to dangle the carrot. “Now start talking and make it fast. I’ve got a meeting with IA in an hour. Bastards are on my ass enough as it is.” He paused to let that information sink in. “What’s with the small arsenal?”

Schneider took a deep breath, and he knew precisely what the guy was thinking. Possession of all that heavy artillery would get him a lengthy stay at Hotel Sing-Sing. Dealing him in was Schneider’s only way out, but not something to be offered lightly. Allowing anyone into the Pyramid’s inner sanctum without being blessed by its leader could be Schneider’s death sentence. But Schneider owed him big time for a favor done long ago, and he intended to collect.

Dom let out an impatient breath. “Spill it or our little truce comes to an end.”

Schneider held out his arms again in an imploring gesture. “You and I go way back, Carew. To Afghanistan. Doesn’t that count for something?”

He leaned against the crate behind him. “Delta Force counts for something, but as I recall you nearly got bounced out. Something about drugs, whoring, and AWOL. The only thing that kept you out of lockup was me.” He’d convinced his commanding officer to give Schneider a chance to clean up his act.

The corners of Schneider’s mouth tipped upward briefly. “The truth was that I and a few others found another line of business that was more lucrative than playing soldier. It was an untapped market out there. Sadly, the army didn’t share my views on expanding my entrepreneurial horizons.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Guys like Schneider disgusted him, and he’d regretted helping Schneider get out of hot water all those years ago.

“C’mon, Carew.” Despite the chilly air, Schneider swiped at a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “Everyone strays from the path of justice now and then. Even you, Boy Scout that you were. You just told me IA is creeping up your ass. You help me out today, maybe I help you out tomorrow.”