Page 114 of Long Past Deadly

“He wants both.

“No, he wants you. I reviewed your work. Whit was the draw to get to you.”

Alanna stared at him. “How did you reach that conclusion? Why?”

“It’s the sequence, but let’s ask him.” Ryker moved off, going to Mackey.

Quaid came to her. “You, me, Mac. Ryker and Hunt as backup. Let’s go.”

“Out the front?” The main entrance now had a crude working door.

Quaid checked her vest again. “Yes. Remember how we got out of this before?”

She gripped his hands in hers. “We don’t have an expensive sports car to sacrifice this time.”

Quaid gave a short laugh at the reminder. “No, but we do have a hide in those juniper bushes. Remy built it. Protection.”

“You all have too much time on your hands.” She went to the door, then stopped herself. Mac was in charge. She wouldn’t forget the man’s talk or his skills. She made herself wait and did what she didn’t let Quaid finish – checked her vest fit and both her guns.

Mac came to the door. “Everybody clear on the instructions? Frank is on the way to cover both flanks, but will do so with no sirens. Their job is to push him back to us.”

“Is the target confirmed?” Hunt was still and calm.

Mac refastened his tactical vest. “Yes. Cameras confirm. Conners has eyes on him from the second floor side windows. He’s on foot, identified clearly, loaded for a fight, and not bothering with a disguise.”

“Almost like he knows it’s a trap.” She turned to Ryker.

“We can only play the cards we’re dealt, Williams. We roll this out and finish it by any means necessary.”

“What is Whit doing?”

“Taunting him.” Harrison answered from behind her. “At least that’s what it looks like without sound. Frank reports they’re in place.” He handed off the communication buds and ordered a check of reception and the operating channel.

Alanna completed the tasks and turned to Quaid. “Kill Whit for me when this is finished.”

“Let’s go save him first.” Quaid followed Mackey out the door. She paced herself to him.

They took the stairs.

For a group who had only practiced together one night, they moved with assurance and silence. Mackey, Quaid, then her, with Hunt and Ryker at the rear. Harrison’s job to babysit Whit was essentially eliminated, so he stayed in Operations coordinating every move per Mackey’s instructions.

Mac adapted their plan and didn’t hesitate. For the first time, she really understood his skill – and suddenly she could predict the result. They weren’t going to lose him this time. Mac would make sure. Of course, she was going to get to the bastard first and fulfill a life-long promise to herself.

Quaid and Mac moved in sync with each other, communicating with no hesitation. She drew on her training and copied. Outside, the night air fell into San Diego’s usual warmth, but goosebumps flashed across her skin.

The parking lot was more banged up since the wedding two weeks ago. Those fresh painted white lines were scuffed from moving concrete barriers and explosions. Construction equipment was parked by the front for the renovation of the entrance. The native shrubs were the same, but in the dark she couldn’t find the hide. QM’s cultivated, immaculate landscaping would need a major facelift when this was over. And yet, the QM International sign on the top of the building offered muted light in the dark night.

She could hear Whit shouting. “Come on you, bastard. Come and get me.”

Quaid swore under his breath.

“I’ll take him,” Hunt said. “Give me twenty seconds. I’ll take him out of the equation.”

Harrison’s voice came over her ear bud. “He’s on the property, moving fast. Armed with sniper rifle, knife, and two handguns in his belt. He’s heading straight to Whit.”

Hunt moved, but Mac stopped him. “Hold. We won’t make it.”

Alanna pulled her weapon and shifted to the front before Mac could stop her. “Let’s go. Confront. Disarm or kill. And be done.”