Riley (The Kendall Family #3) (22 page)

“Let’s check his phone,” Riley suggested, digging it out of his pants.

“Shit,” Jordan swore, still tense. “They can track that to this location.”

Riley grunted. “Didn’t think of that. They won’t be looking today, though.”

“Yeah, but we should get as much intel as we can and then get rid of it. Good thing this place is in a fake name or they’d get my identity.”

“Any chance this is a burner phone that isn’t registered to Thomas?”

Jordan perked up. “Yeah, could be. Just to be safe, we’ll ditch it and then wipe this place down for fingerprints before going to another place of mine.”

“That could take a long damn time. Your DNA will be here.”

“Yeah, but they’ll have nothing to match it to.”

“Not sure about that,” he said, concerned. “They can also track the phone to the hotel and we didn’t wipe that down.”

Jordan swore again, then pounded a fist on the couch. That prompted Riley to squeeze her hand. “I guess we can hope enough people check in by the time they think to do that, that there won’t be many of our prints or much DNA still there.”

“It was a five-star hotel,” he observed. “They get cleaned even better than regular ones so we’d probably have some luck there. By the time they figure this out, it might be a moot point, and I’m not sure if they can really track a phone to a specific room.”

“I don’t know either. I think we need to get the hell out of Paris ASAP. Kill Yasin quickly and go.”

“Agreed.”

Jordan nodded and turned on the news, which she had to interpret for Riley, as it was in French. There was no report of the shooting yet, but then it was prime time and the evening news was a ways off. Violent crime likely happened often enough to not be worth interrupting regular broadcasts, but shootings outside the United States weren’t nearly as common. Jordan was sure it would be reported later.

Riley leaned back into the chair. “I’m gonna take a shower to remove any blood evidence or gun powder residue.”

“Smart idea. I should, too.”

“You’re welcome to join me.”

She patted his leg. “No sex, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. You feel okay in here?”

“I don’t think anyone’s paying attention to us, but I’ll keep an eye out while you shower.”

Riley agreed and soon stood with water pouring over his features. He didn’t feel entirely relaxed and thought he might not enjoy sex just now anyway. He’d always had a safe haven to go to after a mission, and this time he also felt like he’d committed a crime, which technically he had, kidnapping someone. That Thomas had tried to assassinate him didn’t change that much. At least he hadn’t killed the guy on purpose. Still, the police had no reason to believe him. In fact, if he and Jordan were identified and brought in anyway, he didn’t see them getting out of serious trouble. Despite her assurances that this place was safe, he really wanted to be gone. He’d sleep lightly tonight, for sure.

His spirits rose later that evening. He did some online research and discovered that cell phone tracking can only track calls within such a broad radius, like a mile, that the cops would never figure out where they were. Looking at Thomas’ phone, he saw the GPS features had been turned off, which was good, because those signals could be tracked to within fifty yards, but the cops needed the chip in the phone. For that reason, Riley disassembled it and flushed the chip down the toilet.

While in the bathroom with Jordan, who was still showering, Riley filled her in on that.

“That’s great news!” she said, pulling back the curtain to beam at him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t already know that.”

“Why?”

“Your training didn’t cover that sort of thing?” He tried to get a peek behind the curtain and she obliged. The sight of water pouring over the magnificent figure made his cock stir and he knew he had to leave.

She frowned. “Actually, no. I wonder...I bet they kept me ignorant of certain things on purpose. Fuckers.”

“They’re dead now.”

She grinned. “Yes, they are! I almost didn’t realize my two biggest enemies are gone, with us running like that.”

He ogled her. “Too bad we can’t celebrate. Soon though.”

“Yes. Give me a kiss!”

He planted one on her and then got out before he stripped naked.

While she finished, he spent time discreetly watching the area through the windows. Then he ducked in and told her he was going to get familiar and would stay in touch. He just needed to feel safe. A thirty-minute stroll around the area convinced him their location hadn’t been pinpointed yet. Or if their identities had been discovered, the police hadn’t come here yet and likely never would thanks to the cell phone tracking discovery. That was a big weight off their shoulders, but they were hardly in the clear.

The evening broadcast did indeed include news of the shooting of an unidentified man who appeared to have been interrogated. Two suspects were reported leaving the scene, but while the genders were accurate, the descriptions were off quite a bit thanks to the disguises. The broadcast helped both of them relax and they fell asleep not long after.

The next day saw them driving to the area around Yasin’s reported place. This side of town was a bit rundown, with faded paint on signs, cheap cars, and even cheaper men loitering on street corners. The snipers avoided driving down the street in question, and instead did tightening circles of the area to ascertain what was on all sides. An escape route began to form in their heads, depending on where they’d shoot from and if the intel checked out.

And it did. The number of turbaned, bearded Muslims increased as they neared the two-story complex that served as the Islamic Jihad League’s base. The place wasn’t huge and had discreetly armed men, the bulges of their guns’ shoulder harnesses visible under robes, at every door and even down the street. Others could be seen in some of the windows. An air of danger hung about the place, and Jordan and Riley agreed that even driving by would attract too much attention. Another thing both agreed on was that the guards never looked up, and a courtyard inside the gates offered a likely place to kill anyone coming or going.

They returned to Jordan’s place to prepare for the mission’s work. First on the list was researching Yasin to find a photo, which wasn’t hard. He hadn’t done enough to get on something like an FBI watch list, but his identity was known to Parisian authorities. Several photos were found, each showing a portly, bespectacled Muslim in his thirties. While the long beard and mustache made him look similar to others, Riley was used to noting the specifics in someone’s face to make sure he’d acquired his target.

They used Google Earth and satellite photos to plan multiple escape routes and choose the right place to do the job. All they needed was the right sniper perch, but there were few buildings tall enough in the neighborhood, leaving one across the street as their best option despite the risk of being caught afterward. The shot would be easy. The flight, not so much.

The challenge now was having no real idea when the target would leave the building. Or arrive if not there while they watched. For that reason, they planned for a long vigil, taking turns watching if need be. They decided to wait until early the next morning, while it was still dark, and get into position when fewer people were around to see them. Before the sun rose, they had ascended to their sniper perch.

“If something happens,” began Riley, looking through the scope while Jordan munched on a croissant, “just run and don’t worry about me.” Below them, everything seemed quiet, a dozen security guards monitoring the grounds and streets but never looking up, like yesterday. No one knew they were there and none of the nearby buildings were taller. No one would spot them from above unless a helicopter flew by, but that wasn’t likely.

“Fuck that,” she replied. “We’re together in this, baby. For good.”

“That mean you’re coming back to Comus with me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“You bet your ass I will.”

“Think your family will forgive me?”

“In time. Don’t worry.”

“Easier said than done.”

“That you want their forgiveness goes a long way.”

She didn’t reply, opting for shoving the rest of her breakfast into his mouth for him, then putting the wrapper away. Everything was prepared for quick departure and they wore new disguises they’d picked up just in case a quick flight had them captured by police cameras at intersections.

They spent over four hours lying on the rooftop, side-by-side, waiting for a kill shot. Sometimes all they did was stare through the scope, but other times they chatted, comparing opinions on wind speed and other matters. Not since training had either had someone beside them. Jordan felt it was oddly romantic, getting ready to kill someone together, though only because Riley was protecting himself and Jordan was helping him do so. Otherwise killing someone together was a little too Bonnie and Clyde. The thought made her laugh.

“Am I missing something?” Riley asked.

“No, sweetie. You’re not missing a thing. Can’t wait to get out of here.” As she said that, activity picked up in IJL’s courtyard.

“Now might be your chance.”

All talk ceased as a black car inside the compound pulled up as if to receive someone from inside the house. A half-dozen men milled around the car’s side, then more joined them from the building. In their midst walked Yasin, smiling and pausing to greet someone. Together, and without a word exchanged, Jordan and Riley pulled their respective triggers and what sounded like a single shot rang out. A burst of red exploded from Abu Yasin’s head as the twin bullets killed him.

“Time to go,” said Riley, slinking backward, all business.

“Yep.”

Shouts erupted below as the pair on the roof put away their rifles in just seconds, knowing the area would be swarming with those wanting revenge. They managed to reach the roof door without being seen, but as Riley half expected, the door opening could be seen from across the way. It caught attention from someone who’d run up to the top of Yasin’s building, which was lower than theirs, to look around. Furious yelling broke out and the changed tone told them one thing.

“We’ve been seen.”

Rising, they plunged through the door and down the stairs as fast as possible, slipping the bags they carried in one hand over their shoulders to free their hands. Taking stairs two at a time, they reached the ground floor even as someone busted in a nearby door out of sight. Both snipers pulled handguns out and ran for the rear exit, reaching it just as someone entered the hallway behind them and shouted something in Arabic. Riley glanced back with gun raised and, on seeing a rifle pointed at them, opened fire as bullets began spraying the hall near them. Jordan was first through the door as the gunfire stopped, for Riley had shot the attacker dead. He raced after.

Once in the street, they ran for the car that was parked a couple blocks away, for parking any closer would have made it too easy for pursuers to block them in. A path of twisting side streets had been chosen and now proved invaluable because armed men could be heard approaching at a run from all sides, except the direction they fled toward. Even so, they weren’t quick enough, for as they approached the next turn ahead, shouting men appeared behind.

“Faster,” Riley said.

More bullets struck a parked car ahead as they ducked around it, hugging the wall. Pedestrians screamed and ran for cover. Riley sent a few bullets back, striking one of the turbaned men. They ran around the intersection’s corner. By silent agreement, she scouted ahead while he watched behind. Angry voices could be heard on the streets to either side, one of those being the direction they needed to go.

“This way,” she said, turning toward a motel, opening its front door, and running in with Riley close behind. Startled people inside the lobby scampered out of the way as the duo charged through and out another way into the street beyond.

“The restaurant,” Riley shouted, pointing to a low building slightly right of their position. They’d lost the pursuers for a moment and ran in between cars that were waiting for a light, then over the sidewalk as people got out of the way, clearly aware trouble was afoot. They ran into the diner. A startled hostess backed away and Jordan tried to squeeze through waiting customers without shoving them too hard, prompting Riley to yell at everyone to move before realizing they’d only put the customers in danger if the gunmen in pursuit caught up with them. Swearing, he told Jordan to go out the side door.

“Why?” she asked, disagreeing.

“Gotta lead them away from these people. C’mon!” He charged into an alley with two old, parked cars and no people. He ran back toward the street. Sure enough, four gunmen were approaching the restaurant, the commotion having attracted their attention. He fired two shots at them, hitting one in the leg, and the others came toward him instead. Satisfied, Riley turned back to Jordan. “Go!”

They raced away again, doubting the wisdom of this as more bullets struck the area around them, but they made good use of vehicles to run between, Riley firing more shots back to slow down pursuit. They rounded the corner of the street where the getaway car was parked and hadn’t gone ten steps when Jordan swore.

“Car’s blocked!” she said, seeing a delivery truck that had parallel parked and didn’t look to be moving anytime soon.

“This way,” Riley grabbed her hand and raced away, eyes scanning for other options. Meanwhile, honking cars could be heard behind them. He wondered if some pursuers were driving them. “We need a car.”

“Or those,” Jordan said, pointing at six motorcycles a block away. The riders were milling about on the sidewalk, not looking at them.

Riley grinned and headed there, but they had to pass another intersection, and when he paused and looked around the corner toward Yasin’s place, he saw a dozen terrorists approaching at a run, guns at the ready, heads turning everywhere. Crossing meant exposing themselves. Running fast while firing was the only way across. “You ready?”