Shay Savage - Otherwise Unharmed

There was another long moment of silence from the other end of the phone.

“So that’s it?” he asked.

“For now.”

“I’m disappointed,” Rinaldo said, his voice tight.  “The contract stays, and yours is added.  I can’t have you working for the competition, Arden.  We’re done now.”

He hung up.

“Fuck,” I muttered.  I placed the phone down on the bathroom counter and looked up.  Lia was peeking in the doorway.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one.”

“Evan…”

“It doesn’t matter.”  I shook my head and headed back into the shower.

I probably should have just stayed half-shaven.  When I got out, Lia was sitting on the bed, waiting for me with my phone in her hands.

“I didn’t mean to look at it,” she said before I could ask her anything.  “It wouldn’t stop beeping, and I didn’t want to interrupt again.”

“What is it?” I asked.

She handed the phone to me.  There was a text message on it from Jonathan.

$1 mil.  Every fucker in the nation will be gunning for you.

“Shit.”

“I’m pretty sure I know what that means,” Lia said.  “He’s after you now, too, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Enough to bring every contract killer known to man to Chicago.”

“Jesus, Evan!  What are you going to do?”

“Stay out of the crosshairs,” I replied.  “We’ll probably have to move again.  I’m hoping today will bring me the information I need to get us out of the area altogether, but if the price stays on my head, it’s not going to be enough.  I can only hope Rinaldo will listen to me when it’s all over.”

I went over to the dresser and grabbed the SIG handgun.  I checked the chamber, made sure it was loaded, and flicked the safety on before walking back to Lia and handing it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a gun,” I smirked.  “If you need it, use it.”

“Evan, I’ve never shot a gun in my life!”

“It’s easy,” I informed her.  “Just point it, click the safety off, and pull the trigger.”

Lia furrowed her brow but then nodded and dropped her head down to look at the phone in her other hand.

“Evan?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s the woman on the phone with you?”

I glanced at her and then activated the phone.  The picture of me with Bridgett standing in front of The Bean was displayed as the background image.  I had completely forgotten it was there.

“No one.”  I said as I walked out of the room.

“I’m not trying to pry,” Lia said as she followed me out.  “It’s just that you’ve never talked about any old girlfriends or anything.”

“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“Well, she obviously meant something to you.  You haven’t mentioned a sister, either.”

“I don’t have any family.”

She grabbed my upper arm with her hand, and I stopped and turned around.

“What?” I asked, somewhat tersely.

“Who is she?” Lia asked again.  “I don’t like the evasiveness here.”

My hands were shaking just slightly.  I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t going to let it go.  I was going to have to tell her something, and once I did, she was going to wish she’d never asked.

“She was a hooker,” I said, hoping that would be enough.  “Those are the kind of girls I’m used to—hookers.”

Lia narrowed her eyes a bit.

“She doesn’t look like a hooker.  She’s all dressed up.”

“Christ, Lia—drop it before I actually tell you!”

“Tell me what?”

I dislodged myself from her grip and went to the closet for my duffel bag of weapons.

“Evan-”

“I have to go to work,” I said.  I brushed her aside as I grabbed my Beretta and holstered it under my arm.  As I moved toward the door, I made the mistake of looking back at her eyes.

The look on Lia’s face tore at my heart.  I didn’t want her to know any of this.  I didn’t even want her to know Bridgett ever existed, and now she was pushing me for the real story—a story that was going to scare the shit out of her.

Maybe she should know.  Maybe she has a right to know what I did.

“She betrayed me,” I said quietly.  “I killed her.”

I turned around and left the apartment.

Nothing I did after that was right.

It was nine-thirty in the evening, and I was scouting out the best position for sniping on the rooftop near the drop-off location.  I wasn’t actually planning on doing any shooting—I had no target selected, and Gavino had ordered me here just for the sake of protecting the group if something went wrong, but I already knew it was going to go to hell in a handbasket shortly after midnight, and I wasn’t going to save them from that.

Trent said he had a whole SWAT team at the ready, and they would be there just in time to catch Gavino Greco and his collection of illegally imported human slaves.  He’d go away for life if he was lucky.  I was at a safe enough distance that I wasn’t concerned about being caught up in the bust, assuming Trent wasn’t planning on sending someone to my location to grab me.

Of course, I wasn’t where I told him I was going to be.  I was on top of a funky, S-shaped condominium complex on the other side of the river.  It had a better view and a lot more cover than the building near the substation next to the rail yard, but mostly, it was a perfect location because it was not where Trent thought I would be.

The more I had thought about his obvious deception during our last conversation, the more I was convinced he planned on screwing me over.  He’d go back on the deal and have me arrested along with the rest of them.  Maybe he’d try to keep me under his thumb and use me again, and maybe he’d just let me rot, but he definitely wasn’t planning on keeping our agreement.  I was sure of it.

I found the perfect spot and got myself set up near the railings at the top of the building.  There were a few little garden areas around, as well as some tables and chairs for residents, but the area was closed after nine and no one was about.  There was also easy access back down to the ground via a long flight of stairs that led to the parking lot.  I pulled the Barrett out of its bag and quickly assembled it, carefully going through a complete functions check.  I made sure there was a bolt in the chamber before sitting back and eating the sandwich I had tucked away in the bag.

No reason to kill on an empty stomach.

I tapped my foot against the ornately tiled roof, checked the night-vision scope to make sure everything was functioning correctly, and sat back again.  I didn’t mind the waiting—I was used to it—but this little mission had a different feel than most.  Assuming everything went well, it could very well be my last.  It was what I wanted.

At least, I thought it was what I wanted.

Reaching out, I slid my hand down the barrel of the Barrett and wondered if I could be completely satisfied using it only for target practice at a shooting range.  It was what Lia wanted, and I understood completely.  I mean, what woman would actually choose to live with a guy who was a killer?

If I stopped shooting people, would that mean I wasn’t a killer anymore?

I wasn’t so sure.

Eleven o’clock.  I scanned the entire area using the night-vision scope and saw nothing out of the ordinary.  This area of town was becoming more and more run-down, and not a lot of people were around this time of night.  Even the condos beneath me were mostly empty.

Across the river, there was a large building in the center of a huge concrete slab that served as a parking and storage area for a large power substation.  There were a few other outbuildings around, a handful of vehicles, and the substation itself.  Around the edge near the river were a few short trees and shrubs, as well as a fence that lined the property but didn’t disrupt my view from up high.

For good measure, I spun the Barrett around and checked out the area behind me.  There were a few homeless people wandering around, but no one close enough to hear me shoot with the silencer attached.  Once I confirmed there was nothing of concern behind me, I repositioned the rifle and scanned the area across the river again.

Movement.

I saw Jenna and the two goons who usually accompanied her step out of a van at the far side of the parking area near the substation.  They crossed in front of the building on foot.  I focused my scope on Jenna’s face as she looked up in my direction.  I knew she couldn’t really see me from where she was.  Like Gavino and the rest of his group, she knew where I was going to be.  I had only deceived Trent on my location.

I moved the scope away from her and scanned around the building again.  Each side was clear of people and trucks, which gave me a clear view of the drop-off area.  I checked the other small sheds around but saw nothing.  There was a small grouping of outbuildings to my left with a pickup truck parked next to them but nothing else.

As I began to scan the top of the main building in the lot, something caught my eye.  Next to one of the air conditioning units, there was a slightly darker shape that had not been there earlier.  I watched for a full minute, but it didn’t move.  I narrowed my eyes and waited just a bit longer before I decided I must have missed it before.

That was when the slightest of motions brought me to full attention.

I focused the scope carefully on the shape I had seen.  It was slightly rounded and black.  It moved to the left, improving my viewpoint.  With the night vision on the scope kicking in fully, I knew exactly what it was—another sniper.

He was setting up a rifle behind the air conditioner on the building across the river from me.  It was the same building on which I had told Trent I would be located.  Would he have sent a SWAT sniper to the same location?  It would have been a shitty move if he had.

The sniper’s upper body became visible as he laid out his rifle and got into position behind it.

I shifted my stance to make myself harder to spot from my vantage point before I focused my sites on the other sniper.  Male, Caucasian, setting up a Dragunov rifle—a nice, Soviet-made one that dated back to the sixties but was still a powerful gun.  From what I could tell, it only had a five-bolt magazine on it, which would put him at a disadvantage from the one I used.  Though Barretts usually held ten-round magazines, mine held twelve.

As I watched him closely, I knew something wasn’t quite right.  He wasn’t wearing a flak jacket for starters, and all feds wore them when they went after someone.  His position wasn’t quite right, either.  He was on the south side of the roof, which gave him cover but not the best vantage point, considering where I told Trent the exchange would take place.  It was like he didn’t know where they were going to conduct business and was going with the position that gave him the best view of the whole area.

No flak jacket and doesn’t know where to aim.

Definitely not a fed.

Who then?

There weren’t that many options as far as I could tell.  Did Gavino hire another sniper?  Unlikely. I was the only well-trained one in the city, and he’d have to go out of state to find someone trained on the weapon in this guy’s hands.  Had the feds hired an independent from somewhere or maybe recruited out of the military?  Also unlikely. Marines and Army alike preferred Barrett rifles.

Russian?  He was using a Russian weapon though it was a common enough one.  Was he one of Andrey’s men?  Andrey and Rurik had definitely been at odds about this activity, and either one of them might have decided to send a little added insurance, but I didn’t quite buy it.  If either of them had another sniper, they would have had a lot more fuel against me when we first sat down to make a deal.

It wasn’t right, and all my instincts told me to get the fuck out.

I couldn’t do that though.  I had to make sure this went down the way it was supposed to so I could get Lia out of Chicago.  Instead of listening to my gut, I scanned the rest of the area with the night scope and found a few other figures who were not with Greco’s organization and definitely not part of a SWAT team—six of them altogether and four of them positioned in places that didn’t make sense.  They couldn’t have known enough about what was going to happen, or they would have been in better positions.