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“Yes,” she said. “So, how do we end our calls? Wonder Woman to the rescue? To infinity and beyond? Until we bicker again?”
“Find the Astor sisters,” I said. “Omega out.”
I clicked off the call. I’d made a great decision when I hired Mina, but keeping her out of trouble, keeping my team out of trouble, was gonna be a chore.
My cell beeped. I opened an encrypted message from the BB lab and skimmed over the report. The lab noted that the ulceration was specific to the stomach. The poison had been delivered inside some mechanism that dissolved when triggered via contact with the gastric juices. I had to wait for the next round of tests to find the poison delivery vehicle.
I dialed my second in command, Bozeman. He picked up on the first ring. “Granite here.”
“Status?” I asked.
“All is quiet at the moment,” he reported in his low bass. “But my toe is twitchy.”
That was never good news coming from Bozeman. “Are we secured?”
“This is New York.” His scoff sounded a lot like a growl. “No one is ever secure or safe here. We have assets on the ground, but the population density in Manhattan works againstus. This is worse than Fallujah. There are two thousand and twenty-two windows and eleven rooftop decks that could be used to stage an attack on the penthouse.”
That was Micah Bozeman for you—precise, diligent, intelligent, and always blunt with his assessments. He never sugarcoated anything. Bozeman was a highly experienced operator, a natural leader, and a rare man of heft, intellect, and character. My taciturn friend hid a brilliant mind and heart of gold behind his gruff personality and his intimidating appearance—six feet six inches of pure muscle trained to fight and outlast every soldier out there.
He’d been my Team Chief during my last tour of duty. He’d been with me, boots on the ground, the day we lost Nix. Above all, he was loyal to a fault. As soon as he found out I was putting together a new team inside the BB universe, he took terminal leave from the Corps to work with me. It helped that the legendary Raider had been promoted to a desk job. Bozeman despised paperwork and the Corps’ loss was my gain.
I knew he and the guys had my back, but my guts were as twitchy as Bozeman’s toe. If I were an assassin, NYC would be an optimal setting for murder.
“So,” I concluded. “Your answer is, no, we’re not secured.”
“Not to your standards,” he said in his exacting tone. “If you’re asking for my recommendation, let’s get the hell out of this urban death trap and find ourselves a fortified position.”
“Copy that.” I fully agreed with the man. “Omega out.”
I picked up my messenger bag from the niche by the stairs, leaned on my cane, and made my way to Thena’s bedroom. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I heard the familiar sound of high caliber rounds sinking into bulletproof glass.
Plunk-crunch. Plunk-crunch. Plunk-crunch.
Fuck. I dropped my stuff on the ground and slid out my Glock. It sucked that Bozeman’s twitchy toe was never wrong. I threw the door open, and, running at a crouch, dove into Thena’s room.
Chapter Eight
Dash
Thena was already on the ground, hugging her tablet to her chest, hunkered down behind her bed, where I joined her.
“What’s happening?” she asked as I pushed her down on the floor.
“Keep your head down.”
Once I checked and made sure she wasn’t hit, I peeked over the bed. The floor to ceiling windows were chiseled with round hits, some surrounded by cracks. The good news was that the polycarbonate layers that protected the windows had absorbed the round’s energy and held up to the attack. Also, the assailant had only gotten three shots off before my team homed in on him. The bad news was that someone had shot at Thena.
I punched my dialer.
“We’ve got a fix on the shooter.” Bozeman’s heavy breathing crackled in my ear. “We’re en route. I’ve got King with me. Everyone else is in the building with you.”
“Copy that,” I said. “Thena will shelter in place until you give me the all clear. Get the fucker. Omega out.” I reached out and grabbed Thena’s hand. “Follow me. Stay low.”
Together, we eased across the bathroom and sought the relative safety of Thena’s windowless walk-in closet, which stood at the center of the penthouse. While I locked the doors of the bathroom, she slid down the wall, sat with her tablet in the corner, and queried me with her eyes. “Was that…?”
“Another attack.” Glock in hand, I limped to her and sat beside her. “First your father. Then your poisoning. Now this. The fuckers didn’t do their homework. If they had, they would’ve known this building has bulletproof windows.” Or perhaps they would’ve used something else, like a fifty Cal or an RPG, but Ididn’t say that out loud. “Unless—”
“Unless someone wants to scare me,” Thena mused, arriving at the same conclusion I did at the same time. “Someone wants me to run like a dog with my tail between my legs, hide, and live in fear. Well, I’m not scared and they fucking failed.”
