Street Game (5 page)

“Yeah.” Mack sighed. “Hard to swallow, all right. Madigan is a savvy arms dealer. He would never let the Doomsday group know where he had the weapons, and he sure as hell wouldn’t leave them exposed where anyone could take them. Maybe we’re too late.”

“Only way to know is to go inside and check it out,” Kane said, reluctance in his voice.

Brian slid forward on his belly, keeping his body low. “Gideon reported in. He’s on the roof. No cameras, no guards. Something doesn’t smell right. There’re a few alarms Javier could easily bypass.”

Mack looked at the faces around him. He’d known them all since they were boys. Knew each one, knew they’d follow him to hell and back. And the new kid. Paul. Just a young pup, his face showing fear, his eyes determined.

“No, it doesn’t smell right, Brian,” he agreed. “Jacob, you and Ethan work your way around to the other side of the building and take a look up and down those warehouses. Keep your ass low and tell me if we’ve got surprises waiting for us. This isn’t Oz, boys, so no heroes. You might run into a few civilians here and there. Stay out of sight.”

“Yes, Mama, we know the drill,” Jacob said.

“I mean it, no heroics. We don’t know what we’re into here,” Mack reiterated, pinning them both with a stern eye.

Jacob Princeton nodded and he and Ethan slithered down the steps like two fast-crawling snakes, rolled into the shadows, and disappeared. Mack scanned the warehouse once again. “Kane, check every warehouse. Look for a grouping or singles—sentries or a group bunched up ready to come at us. They have to be hidden somewhere. Marc, you and Lucas find us at least two clear routes out of here. Take us up and over the rooftops.”

He wasn’t taking his men into a trap. He was going to ram this right back down their throats. But . . . He glanced at Javier Enderman. Javier looked the least like a soldier of any of them, and yet was maybe the most lethal.

“Get back to Jaimie, Javier. You know what to do. She won’t like it and she’ll give you hell, but you kill anyone that comes near her. Don’t let anyone in or out of her place. I don’t have to tell you what Jaimie means to me . . .”

“To all of us,” Javier corrected. “She’s ours too, Mack. I won’t let anyone get to her.”

“I want to hear your voice in my ear every second, Javier. You suspect anything, I want you telling me. Don’t wait to confirm. I want to know if her neighbor blinks or a rat makes its way in. You got me?” He wanted to go himself, but Javier would stick to Jaimie like glue and no one,
no one
, was better up close and personal than Javier.

“I’ll keep her safe, Top.”

“Don’t trust anyone, not even those we know. We’ve got a rat problem ourselves.”

Paul stirred, frowned, and then glared at Mack. “Are you accusing me of something?”

“You’re just the new kid, Paul,” Mack said. “Not necessarily the rat. And if we all get blown to hell, I’m guessing you’re going to be right alongside us.”

Javier winked at the boy. “That doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense, although if you were a dumbshit rat, maybe it would.”

Paul stared at them for a long moment, obviously making up his mind whether or not to take offense. He seemed satisfied that they didn’t consider him the rat and shrugged. “I’m no dumbshit rat.”

“Glad to hear it, boy. Just the same, I’m keeping a close eye on you, so stick to me like glue,” Mack said, and winked at him.

Javier slid back into the shadows and worked his way down the fire escape to the uneven sidewalk. He stayed low, sticking as close to the side of the building as he could, his gaze restless, moving along the buildings. There were too many windows and doorways. Tension wound him tight, coiling his gut tighter and tighter. Every entryway was a potential threat. Each boat tied up to the wharf. Every car. Everywhere he looked, above and around him, were places the enemy could easily be hiding.

Voices had him crouching low, a statue, not so much as breathing in the cool night air, not wanting the vapor trail to give him away. Nerves stretched taut.
Couple of civvies, Top.
The two men were older, grizzled. Unlikely terrorists, their heavy worn sweaters smelled of fish and age, yet their belts were heavy with tools. He could see a knife tucked down into a scabbard lying along each man’s thighs.

That was the trouble with urban warfare. You had to have good instincts, nerves of steel, good eyesight, and fast processing to be able to move through a city where anyone—man, woman, or child—could be a potential enemy.

Don’t go hero on me, Javier. We’re all going home tonight
.

Mack’s determination flooded Javier with warmth. He didn’t ever like to admit it, but even Mack’s lectures could make him feel as though he belonged.

Javier waited in silence, unmoving, watching the two old men shuffle along the sidewalk until they came to a car. The vehicle seemed as beat-up as they were. He watched them drive down the street, the car hiccupping and puffing out gasps of black smoke.

We’re good here. Just a couple of C.O.B.s
. Javier reported the two civilians in the battle zone. He stayed in the shadows as he made his way down the blocks of warehouses back up toward Jaimie’s place.

So far he’d had good cover, and there were few people out so late. The wharf was quiet, although music blared somewhere off to his right and Javier could smell the distinct odor of marijuana. Kids, he guessed, finding a place to hang out and stay warm when they had nowhere else to go. He remembered those days, when the wind blew cool and cruel and he would look up at the windows mocking him with warmth and laughter, the days when his world was so stark and hungry and he was utterly alone. He’d thrown a few rocks in those days, angry and starving for both food and affection, until Mack had found a couple of street bullies stalking him and intervened. He hadn’t told Mack the toughs would have lost the battle. He didn’t want to take chances that he wouldn’t fit in and Mack would throw him back.

He’d stayed quiet and looked as young and as nerdy as he could. He had better than 20/20 vision, yet he often hid his dark eyes behind thick clear lenses. He had been smarter than just about anyone until he met Mack. The man had changed his life. Brought him purpose and definitely saved him from a life of crime.

He felt a smile coming on. He got to do all the things he wanted to do, but now they were legal. Of course, Mack kept a close rein on him. Just as well. Sometimes he went totally berserk and didn’t have a lick of sense. Mack was always the voice of reason and things like this—this assignment, being chosen to guard Jaimie—were signs of respect and just made him love Mack all the more.

He was coming up to the open area. Jaimie had picked her location carefully. Her warehouse could be approached from water on one side or by land on three sides. Two of the three sides were as open as they could get. Anyone coming at her would have to expose themselves. She could sit up in her tower and pick them off one at a time—if that was Jaimie’s way, which they all knew it wasn’t. She would have an escape route. More than one. Jaimie was the biggest pacifist he knew. What she saw—and loved—in all of them, he never knew. They were all fighters, but like Mack, Jaimie was family, and he’d go to hell and back for family.

He stayed very still, scanning the area, his gaze quartering from rooftops to windows and then sweeping along the open sidewalk. Two men rounded the corner and paused to light cigarettes, hands shielding the flames, hiding their faces in the brief flare of light, but not before he caught a glimpse of their eyes. They were dressed in casual fishermen gear, but two things caught his attention. Their boots and their eyes. They were doing the same thorough scanning of the area, and he saw them look upward several times, toward that third floor where Jaimie Fielding was probably dropping off to sleep.

Jaimie’s about to get company, Mack,
he reported.

Mack swore softly.
Can you get to her without exposing yourself?

Javier looked at the wide-open space running along the front of Jaimie’s building and the two men between him and his destination.
That’s affirmative, boss.

We’ll be sweeping up behind you, Javier. Don’t kill any of us.

Tell the boys to identify themselves before they set foot inside Jaimie’s home.

You got it. Be damn careful until backup comes,
Mack warned again.

Careful is my middle name, Top
.

Grinning, with eyes on the two men studying Jaimie’s building, Javier quickly turned his jacket inside out. The black combat jacket now looked like a kid’s jacket, complete with hood. He dragged the thick black-rimmed glasses from his pocket and set them on his nose. He spun his MP7 with its silencer to lie under his arm where he had easy access, and drew a skateboard and ball cap from his small duffel bag. If someone stopped him, the bag wouldn’t stand up to a thorough examination, but he wasn’t taking prisoners.

Javier shoved the hat backward on his head, dropped the board to the walkway, and began to kick-push his skateboard down the sidewalk. Just before he emerged from the shadows he half turned toward the sound of music and raised one hand. “Later!” He shoved with one foot and took the board out into the open, directly in a path to intercept the two men.

He glanced up as if seeing them for the first time and deliberately did a perfect varial flip, turning the board 180 degrees, and then landed back on the board and kept going. It was a fairly easy trick, but showy. The men turned toward him, but he could see they were really watching Jaimie’s building and looking up at the rooftops, buying his kid act.

As he approached the two men, they visibly went on alert, one sliding his hand inside his coat. “Get out of here, kid,” the one with the gun growled. The other spat on the ground.

Javier did what any self-respecting teen would do. He flashed a cocky grin, pushed hard with his foot, sliding back in preparation for a back-side heel flip. He crouched down, popped the board up, kicking out his heel and starting a 180 turn, but he failed to land it, stumbling off the board and almost plowing right into the two men. He spread his arms for balance. The skateboard flew into the air, striking the first man right in the center of his chest, driving him backward. The second man cursed as Javier’s body slammed into him. The tiny sliver of steel in the center of Javier’s palm slammed deep into the jugular vein. The man coughed, reaching up toward his throat as Javier’s tackle carried them both toward the ground.

Javier turned as he fell, flipping his knife underhanded at the second man as he half rose. The blade buried to the hilt in the man’s throat. He moved fast, even as the first man choked and gagged, already dying. Dragging the two bodies back into the shadows, he moved quickly across the open space, using the skateboard for speed. Jamming his finger on the button that rang her doorbell, he prayed Jaimie would buzz him through without any questions.

“Come on, Jaimie, let me in,” Javier demanded, trying not to feel the itch between his shoulder blades where a big bull’s-eye seemed to be painted on his back.

The locks disengaged and he shoved the door open and all but fell inside, dragging his MP7 free as he crouched low and crawled his way to the windows to peer outside. She’d let him in too fast—she’d known he was coming. Jaimie always knew.

I’m in, Mack. We need a cleaner for the two pieces of garbage I left just inside the alley outside of Jaimie’s door.

Jaimie has to be the target. Gideon, watch this rat trap,
Mack instructed the others.
The rest of you, pull back and make your way through the streets in standard search. Find them. Take them out quietly.

Javier wired the doors and windows as quickly as he could
. I’ve got this place rigged, Mack. Do not approach without one of us letting you in.

Mack’s breath of relief was audible and made Javier smile.
Keep her undercover,
he advised.

You got it, Top,
Javier promised.

Yeah,
Mack said.
Just like you were careful and avoided engagement. Cleaners, my ass. I told you to be careful.

I don’t have a scratch on me
. He lowered his voice even more.
Jaimie’s coming down the stairs. I want to keep her on the third floor, boss.

We’re working our way to you, doing a thorough sweep.

Javier knew how nerve-wracking a thorough sweep was, moving through enemy territory with civilians in the battlefield. He gave a silent salute toward his team and hurried to intercept Jaimie. “I’m coming up to you, Jaimie. Give me a couple of minutes.”

“Javier? What are you doing? Is Mack okay? Did things go wrong?” There was anxiety in her voice. The lights suddenly blazed through the room.

He realized immediately she thought he was coming to tell her Mack was hurt. “No, no, babe, Mack’s fine. Everyone’s good. Don’t turn on the lights. Get them off.”

There was a heartbeat of silence and the lights went off again, plunging the first story into darkness. He heard rustling as she sank down at the top of the stairs. “Javier?”

There was the smallest of quivers in her voice and he felt a reaction in the pit of his stomach. Either of the girls could do that to any of them. Jaimie and Rhianna. The family revolved around the two girls. He didn’t want to think about Rhianna, off doing God knew what undercover in some foreign country.

“For a minute I thought . . .” She trailed off, sounding very vulnerable.

“I know. He’s fine. Everyone is. Just checking on you. You know how Mack worries.”

“Do I?” Jaimie sounded sad now. “I haven’t heard from him for two years. I don’t think he worries all that much, Javier. But then, I’m all grown up and maybe don’t need it anymore.”

Working fast in the dark, he strung more explosives along the windows, wrapping the warehouse so that anyone trying to get in was going to have a nasty surprise. “Go on upstairs and make us a cup of tea. I’ll be right there,” Javier suggested.

“It’s three in the morning,” she pointed out. “What are you really doing here?”