Kill Shot (29 page)

Grace and Gabe waited patiently for their
turn, and she scooted closer to him to steal a bit of his body
heat. He felt like a furnace in the middle of the stormy cold. He
took her chin between his fingers and kissed her once.

“You’re up, Kill Shot,” Ethan said. “Sending
your coordinates now to the elevated area you told me you wanted.
You should have a nice view of the whole island from there.”

“Love you,” Gabe mouthed as she moved to
take her position.

She nodded once and kissed him hard a final
time. “On your count, Dragon.”

She followed Ethan’s coordinates across the
island, climbing the steep rocks that led to the top of a manmade
waterfall. Boulders and palms surrounded the area and would give
her good cover. The rocks were slick against her hands and feet,
and she felt the quick sting of a sharp rock as it sliced through
her shoe and into her heel. She stayed low to the ground and found
the perfect position to set up her rifle behind a large rock that
had a wide crag right down the center all the way to the
ground.

Grace put her rifle together as quickly in
the pouring rain as she did in perfect weather, and she took
position behind the infrared scope. She’d have to change scopes
once the sun came out, and the change between night and day would
be her most vulnerable time. She sighted across the island slowly
and was pleased with the location.

***

“You’ve got to give me an affirmative
position for the launch site,” Gabe said to Ethan two hours
later.

The sun had reluctantly risen, and they were
surrounded by so much ocean that it looked as if the sun was coming
directly out of the waves. But the welcome heat of the day didn’t
chase the rain away. The black skies turned a putrid gray and
continued to rumble.

“I can’t tell, dammit,” Ethan said, the
frustration evident in his voice. “It looks as if there are two
separate launch sites. Why would he release two batches of the
weapon?”

“One has to be a decoy,” Gabe said. “Kimball
knew we were looking for him, and he’d plan for all contingencies.
Send me the coordinates for both launch sites. I’ve got no choice
but to check them both.”

“I’ve got a visual on the ferry,” Grace
said. “It looks like everyone’s on board from my count.” She
deliberately glanced over Tussad’s familiar face and controlled her
anger. Some habits were hard to break.

“There’s movement on the island,” Ethan
said. “Household staff is moving inside the main house, and guards
are doing perimeter checks now that the storm’s not as severe and
they can see better. I’ve marked the image I’m assuming is Kimball
as green on the GPS. He’s been in the same place all morning.

Gabe ran to the first launch site, knowing
his time was running out. Once the ferry reached the island, it
would be too late for him to stop it. He heard the guards talking
before he reached the first launch site and knew he’d picked the
wrong one immediately. The guards were low-level security, and they
didn’t even hear him as he came up behind them. He shot the first
and snapped the neck of the guard next to him before either was
able to call out for help.

“Three town cars have pulled up to the
docks,” Grace said. “Kimball’s not in any of them.”

“Do you still have a visual on the one you
think is Kimball?” Gabe asked Ethan as he ran to the other launch
site.

“The target is still in place. Would he
still be in bed with guests arriving so soon? It doesn’t look as if
he’s moved.”

The launch site was on the other side of the
island, and he listened to Ethan’s warnings as he called out when
guards were in his path. He only had to take out two before he
found himself at his destination.

There were once again only two guards, but
Nigel Peters stood in the center of the small clearing, the launch
code in his hand as he typed in the numbers to activate the
weapon.

“Ferry is docking,” Grace said.

“Something seems off here, Ghost,” Ethan
said.

“Are you getting other heat signals nearby?”
Gabe asked.

“No, that’s what seems off.”

Gabe tuned out Ethan and knew he’d have to
take out both guards quickly. Peters was trained in combat, and
he’d be expecting him. He was more than likely armed as well. Gabe
threw his knife at the first guard and shot the second guard even
as Peters brought up his own weapon.

Gabe rolled and fired, while Peters returned
fire in slow, steady increments, so Gabe had no choice but to head
for cover in a direction he already knew was a dead end. He held
still behind a thick palm tree and didn’t flinch as a bullet sent
shards of the trunk into his cheek and neck. All Peters needed was
a target, and he’d be damned if he’d give him one.

The report of a long-distance rifle had Gabe
dropping to the ground and taking stock of the situation. Peters
was on the ground, a perfectly round bullet hole through the center
of his forehead.

Gabe looked up to where Grace was positioned
over the waterfalls on the other side of island. The shot she’d
taken had been from almost a mile away. There were only a handful
of people in the world who could make a shot like that. It was a
phenomenal gift, but there wasn’t time to do anything but embrace
the feeling that things were about to go to shit very quickly.

“Get out of there, Kill Shot. You’ve just
given away your position.”

“I’m already moving. And you’re welcome for
saving your sorry ass.”

“You can kiss it later. Just move!”

“I can see the ferry from my position,”
Logan said. “They’re unloading, and Kimball’s men are escorting the
members to the cars with umbrellas.”

“I’m with the weapon,” Gabe said, looking at
the small cylinder buried partially in the sand. The countdown had
already begun on the white plastic tube, but there was an abort
button just below the glowing red numbers.

He felt the sting in his shoulder before the
sound of gunfire registered. Liquid fire raced through his veins,
and he could smell his singed skin where the bullet had exited. He
dropped to his knees and ignored the demands through his com link
to tell them he was all right. He brought his other arm up to try
and hit the abort button once again when a hand pressed against the
wound in his shoulder. He gritted his teeth against the pain, threw
his head back, and shoved his fist into his attacker’s groin. Gabe
was losing a lot of blood, and he wouldn’t be able to fight for
long.

“I’m going to make your death terribly
slow,” Kimball said, kicking Gabe flat on his back while he walked
off the pain in his balls. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

Kimball kicked Gabe in the ribs and leaned
over him, slamming the butt of his gun across the side of his face.
He didn’t lose consciousness. But it was close.

“What do you think of my suit?” Kimball
asked, slapping his across the face. “I know I had your man fooled.
You’re not the only one who gets to have all the fun toys.”

Gabe opened his eyes and took a good look at
his enemy. He was covered from head to toe in what looked like
sealskin, but Gabe had seen it before and knew it was a complex
design of state of the art materials and intricate wiring.

“It completely erases all body heat. As if
I’m not really here at all.” He pulled Gabe up by his shoulder,
squeezing the wound. “Let’s move back a bit. The show’s about to
start.”

Gabe watched with impotent fury as the
canister launched and the aerosol was released into the air.

“Why don’t we go greet my guests? I’m sure
most of them will be thrilled to see you again. But I’m thinking
they’re mostly going to want to try to kill you. I believe you’ve
done damage to all of their businesses at one point or
another.”

Kimball looked around them, and his gaze
landed on the spot Grace had killed Peters from. “I’m glad he
brought you along, Grace. I’ve been thinking of you these last few
weeks. I’m not nearly through with you yet. I know you can hear me.
I know all of you can hear me. Make sure you get in a good position
to watch your team leader die. Your game’s over. Looks like the
good guys lose.”

There was nothing but silence over Gabe’s
com link now, and he was grateful for the chance to think without
interruption.

“It’s funny, you know?” Kimball asked. “All
of those years I spent whoring for the CIA, and all I heard was
stories about you. I guess you’ve just never met your match
before.”

Kimball squeezed at his shoulder again, and
Gabe’s knees buckled, but he stayed upright.

“Let’s go, Brennan. You’re going to get to
see The Passover Project up close and personal. It’ll be a hell of
a show.”

“I’ve closed Gabe out of our circuit,” Ethan
said through the com links. “Please tell me someone has a
plan.”

Grace kept running across the island, her
pistol in her hand and her rifle slung across her back. It took
everything she had not to let the fear over Gabe’s safety take
control. She could be afraid later. Right now she had to save
him.

There was only one other place on the island
that would give her the position she needed to have a clear shot at
Kimball. The guard tower was just down and to the south of the main
house. It was built from stucco and glass to match the villa, and
it resembled a turret, though it had a flat roof.

“Grim Reaper, is the fuse lit?” She asked,
referring to the explosives he was constructing all over the
island.

“We’re lit. What do you need?”

“I need a spotter. Meet me at the guard
tower at the south end of the island.”

“Roger that.”

“The scientist has been taken care of,” Jack
said. “I’m crawling through the rafters in the main house, and I’ve
got Gabe in my sights. Kimball has him in a room on the southwest
side. Kimball’s showing him off like a damned prize. No one is
talking about the auction anymore. If they leave him alone, I can
get him out, but if I go down there now I’ll be dead before my feet
touch the floor.”

The guard tower came into view, and Grace
didn’t slow her momentum. She brought her pistol up and took out
the two guards at the bottom. Logan met her at the stairs, and he
covered her as she went up to the top level, dispatching the
remaining two guards.

“You’re all clear,” Logan said.

“Call out if you need help,” Grace said as
he went back downstairs to guard her back. She opened the sliding
glass windows that surrounded the top of the tower and slid out
onto what could loosely be called a fire escape. She replaced her
pistol at the small of her back and climbed onto the flat roof.

The rain had steadily picked up throughout
the morning, and visibility was getting more difficult by the
second. She laid down flat, ignoring the wet that seemed to
surround her from all sides, and placed her rifle on a stand to
keep it stable.

“Shit, I can’t see them from here.” She
looked again through her scope, but all she could make out from the
angled corner room was a single arm holding a drink. “You’ve got to
get them out of that room, Jack. I need a better shot.”

“Just a minute,” he answered. “Something’s
about to happen.”

***

Gabe sat up as straight as he could in the
chair Kimball had placed him in, and he stared ahead as the men and
woman he’d betrayed before found out his true identity. He didn’t
make a sound when Gabrielle Montpellier—a woman who was more
ruthless than any man in the room and who’d once ordered a bombing
at a French elementary school to gain her way into this select
group of terrorists—pushed her manicured thumb into the exit wound
at the front of his shoulder. He didn’t even glance her way as she
casually rinsed the blood off her thumb in the glass of champagne
she was handed by one of Kimball’s staff.

They all took their turns trying to make his
pain worse, and he knew they’d eventually get what they wanted. He
wouldn’t stay conscious much longer if he didn’t stop the
bleeding.

“I didn’t come here to torture this man,” a
voice said from the back of the room. “I’ve already had the
opportunity to do so, and I’m bored with your party. I want the
weapon.”

Tussad’s voice was as familiar to Gabe as
his own, and he held himself rigidly still so he wouldn’t go after
the man’s throat. He wouldn’t make it far, and all he’d get for his
effort was another bullet in his back.

“I’m so glad you brought us back to our
purpose, Tussad. I can always count on you,” Kimball said.

“Where is the weapon?” Gabrielle asked. “You
cannot expect us to pay your outrageous opening bid without seeing
a demonstration.”

“Your demonstration will be starting in the
next few minutes,” Kimball said. “The great thing about this
formula is that you can adjust how quickly you want it to respond.
It can have a delay of up to twenty-four hours, or it can show
itself in a matter of minutes. I think you’ll enjoy the results as
much as I have. Why don’t we all go into the dining room? There are
plenty of chairs, and the floor is tile. Things are going to get
messy.”

“Is Mr. Brennan not our demonstration?”
Tussad asked.

“Not for this particular session. Once you
get an idea of what the weapon can do, we’ll start the bidding. The
winner can use Mr. Brennan as their guinea pig. Or should I call
you Ghost?” Kimball asked, leaning forward so Gabe had no choice
but to look him in the eyes.

The others filed out of the room, but
Kimball stayed behind. “Your wife should be dead just about now.
And the rest of your team. My men know where they’re hiding, and
they know about the boat you have stashed just off the island. I’ll
keep you alive until I get word they’re all dead. It seems fitting
you should be the last.”