Page 98
Story: The Hit (Team Zulu 1)
She rubbed her eyelids as if she needed to erase the images behind them. “I guess. I can’t even begin to process this day.” Her hands came away from her face and she turned to me. “I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re wondering. You did what you had to, to get us out alive. Actually, I’m kind of in awe of your ass-saving skills.”
“You held it together when you needed to and saved our asses as well. We’d both be dead if you hadn’t got down to the basement and got my cuffs off when you did. That took courage. And taking down Lou? Damn impressive.”
She shrugged, but I noticed a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
We pulled into a self-storage facility.
“What are we doing?” Cam asked.
“I’ve got a unit here with supplies. We’ll get organized and move on with the next phase.” A phase I wasn’t looking forward to. I needed to get Cam far away from here. Franky might be dead, but it was still too dangerous for her to be in Philly until I dealt with the fallout from the club shooting.
My unit sat in the blind spot of the on-site security cameras. I must be one of few people who didn’t want their door to be under surveillance. I kept my face angled low as I punched in the access code. It was a large space, big enough to store my truck inside from time to time, so I drove the sedan in and closed the roller behind us.
The motion sensor activated the lights, which flickered, then illuminated the room. Cam emerged from the car and spun in a slow circle eyeing the contents of the unit with an odd expression on her face.
I imagined people stored all types of things in these units. Mine was well-organized with a large weapons cabinet and a chiller unit for various medications, sedatives mostly, against one wall. In the back corner was a bulk roll of black plastic, a spool of rope, and a ten pack of duct tape.
On an open shelving unit, I had a duffel bag with an emergency change of clothes, cash, burner phones, and a decent medical kit. Below that, a bunch of tactical gear: night vision goggles, body armor, plate carrier, holsters, flashlights. To me, this was all regular stuff; for Cam, it was anything but.
She scanned the room while rubbing goosebumps on her arms. Unsure if she was cold or freaked out by all the hitman gear, I handed her a jacket, which she draped over her shoulders. Maybe it was good for her to be reminded of who and what I was.
The first thing I wanted was weapons. Having them close calmed me, but not so much tonight. I loaded a bag with rifles, pistols, a shotgun, suppressors, knives, fake number plates, grenades and a shit-ton of ammo.
Franky might be dead and the Wolf Street Mafia crippled, but a bunch of pissed-off mobsters still roamed this city. Those left alive would demand retribution for slain family members and for having their substantial pay checks ripped up.
I invited it. I was ready.
“What’s the plan now?” Cam asked.
I zipped up the bag at my feet, then stood to meet her stare. “I’ll find us a place to sleep, patch up our wounds, then get you on a plane first thing in the morning.”
“Australia?”
“Not without a passport. I’m thinking west coast. San Diego, perhaps. With Franky out of the picture, it’s safe for you to stay in the States. His men won’t be concerned with tracking you across the country when they’ve got a bigger problem to deal with.”
“I gather that problem is you.”
I tucked a loaded Glock into the back of my jeans. “Yep.”
She wrung her hands in front of her. “Maybe you don’t have to go after them. What if they’re happy Franky’s dead?”
I nodded. “Some of them will want to jump into the top job, but I murdered a bunch of their friends and relatives at the club. I can think of several who are going to be coming for me and I can’t be looking over my shoulder twenty-four seven.” I moved to the shelving unit to grab more supplies. Cam followed close behind.
“You’re not thinking straight. If Franky’s guys don’t get you, the Feds will. There’ll be security camera footage and DNA at the club.” Her voice wavered. “They’ll come for you. You know they will.”
I turned to face her. “I need to finish this, Cam.”
She took a step closer and reached for my hands. “Come with me. We’ll get Ranger and leave together. Across the country. Across the world. Anywhere.”
The hope flashing in her eyes cut right through me. I wanted nothing more than to pull her against me and say yes, that I’d follow her wherever she wanted to go. But I’d already spent plenty of time dreaming about what a life with Cam might be like. The problem was, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: I couldn’t do that to her.
I withdrew my hands from hers and missed the warmth from them right away. “That can’t happen.” Grabbing the bag full of weapons, I stepped around Cam to make my way to the back of the car. She followed hot on my heels.
“Why not?” she demanded. “If I can disappear, so can you. Why can’t we do it together?” Cam’s feet shuffled behind me. “I know this sounds crazy, but we could still go to Australia. Find a small outback town, somewhere with plenty of land and hardly any people. It would be a quiet life, but we’d be happy.”
I dumped the bag in the trunk and kept my back to her. “You won’t be happy. Perhaps for a time, but that would change. There’s so much you’ve yet to experience. I want you to have it all, but I can’t give it to you. You should be with a guy who’ll take you on dates, someone you can go to parties and concerts with. A guy you can introduce to your friends without them wondering which psych ward you plucked him from. A guy who doesn’t come with so much baggage he turns into a killing machine every time he hears a car backfire or a helicopter pass overhead. You deserve so much more than a normal life, but I can’t even give you that.”
“Shep, stop. Please look at me.”
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