Page 39 of Long Past Deadly

“Let’s bring in the team and give them the places that were his haunts. We’re using what Delaney knew of him, too, but he’s having surgery in the morning and will be out for a bit.”

“Then what?”

Quaid opened the Operations door, tossed their soda cans in the recycling bin against the wall, and offered a hand for her to go first. “We need to talk tactically. If we stay here, we have backup, but he’s going to stay away. We can’t predict when another hit will come. As good as I am combined with as good as you are – that’s still not an acceptable risk. Let’s talk to Mackey.”

Mackey’s work with Delta always intrigued her, but she never went so far as to discuss anything with the man. He was smart, respected, and dangerous with high expectations for those around him and ethical standards she approved of.

Quaid went in front of her, and she tracked him with hungry eyes dying for details – how his muscles moved, how his brain worked, how the playboy and the warrior fit together. Because there was no doubt now. The man was more warrior than playboy.

Which begged the question – why hadn’t he put the playboy persona to bed?

Chapter Eight

QM International Communication Check: 07:00:00 PST 12/17 – San Diego HQ. No change to threat posture. Ϙ

Alanna loaded her weapon. She studied the firing setup and watched Quaid and Mackey do a similar routine. It had been Mac’s request that both she and Quaid get some tactical training first thing this morning, and she hadn’t argued. She hadn’t requested permission of Dr. Cait or Drucker, either. She’d donned double ear protection and hoped for the best.

Lately, her job at the FBI involved more desk than field. Some testing of her skills against the ear pain mattered. The foam plugs went in first, followed by the headset. It dulled the noise, warped the sound – flattening, stretching, like everything came through a layer of static she couldn’t clear.

It didn’t matter.

She wasn’t here to listen.

She was here to execute.

She understood Mackey wasn’t satisfied with excuses. He had a bigger concern about safety in the field from this predator, and, if rumor was true, didn’t accept half effort.

“You’re thinking too much.” Mackey’s flat tone irritated. “Target doesn’t wait for you to get comfortable.”

Alanna kept her eyes on her target.

“I’m not thinking. I’m choosing.”

She fired and finished off four rounds of firing, unsatisfied with the respectable shots. Too much time off the range.

Quaid was firing, and she paused to watch him. Smooth. Fast. No hesitation. Lethal with solid control and accuracy. His military foundation was obvious, refined by experience.

“Try again,” Mackey coached, his eyes showing he’d recalibrated his comments. “Faster this time.” He left her to it and went to his own lane.

She reset her stance without argument, but watched him for a minute, too. Mackey didn’t just shoot. He executed. No wasted motion. No adjustment after the fact. Every round landed exactly where he intended, like the outcome had been decided before he ever pulled the trigger.

She forced herself past the ear pain, reset, and fired again. The world had been off-balance since the blast, but she had to shoot anyway. Focus narrowed to the target, she took the shots with no hesitation. She unloaded her weapon and set it on the shelf, then pulled her ear protection and foam plugs. She moved to where the two men were observing her.

“I need to stop, Mac. My ears are ringing. Give me a few minutes.”

Mackey eyed her. “All right.”

Whether early morning or personality, his short answers were right up her alley.

“Dr. Hunter will give me a ranting lecture if I cause further damage.” She put a hand over her left ear.

Quaid stopped at her side and pulled his ear protection, too. “She’ll take us out first.”

Mackey took a few minutes and studied both their targets. “Not bad.” Quaid’s was close to perfect.

On closer inspection, she noted her accuracy needed work.

Mackey grunted. “Decent. Both of you.”