Page 40 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)

DESMOND

T he guard grinned and took a little better aim at my chest with his gun, which featured a suppressor.

He advanced toward me, crossing the snow-crusted clearing in a few quick strides.

I remained by the security light, my hands loose and down by my sides.

Adrenaline surged through my body, skittering through my veins like a chemical form of electricity, and I relished the natural high.

I loved this part of being a spy too.

The guard stopped a few feet away. “Bryce said you’d come out here, but I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually do it.”

Annoyance spurted through me. Bryce had known I would search the woods for Henrika’s lab, and he’d planned accordingly.

A sneer twisted the guard’s face. “Bryce also said you were some big-shot assassin, but you don’t look so tough to me.”

I flexed my hands. “Well, if you’re so tough, why don’t you put that gun away, and we’ll see who the deadlier man truly is?”

The guard grinned again. “Nah. I don’t feel like getting your blood on my jacket. Did you know Henrika makes us buy and replace our own uniforms?” He shook his head. “That’s some cheap corporate bullshit right there.”

While the guard complained, I flicked my left wrist and discreetly palmed the knife I’d tucked up my sleeve earlier. I also had a gun nestled in the small of my back, but I couldn’t draw it before the guard shot me. Besides, the knife would be quieter.

“We even have to replace the nametags.” The guard gestured at the silver tag on his green jacket that read FLOYD in bold black letters. “Want to tell me what you’re doing out here before I shoot you and call for backup?”

I shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m looking for Henrika’s lab, just like everyone else is.”

Floyd snorted. “Well, you’re never going to find it. Henrika doesn’t tell anyone anything they don’t need to know. Even the scientists who work for her are blindfolded before they’re taken to the lab. Bryce is the only one who knows where it is.”

The dull orange aura stayed bright and steady over his heart, indicating he was telling the truth. Disappointment flooded my body. I’d been hoping to disarm the guard and then squeeze the lab’s location out of him, but he was clueless.

Floyd stepped a little closer. “Why don’t you make things easier and tell me if you’re wearing a bulletproof vest? If you are, I’ll put a couple of rounds in your chest. Bruise a rib or two instead of winging you in the arm and getting blood everywhere.”

He seemed intent on capturing instead of killing me, which made me curious about his bosses’ motives.

Bryce would no doubt want to torture me for as long as possible because of how I’d hurt him all those years ago, but why would Henrika want me to keep breathing?

I didn’t know, but trying to take me alive all by himself was a massive mistake on the guard’s part.

“You said it yourself, Floyd. I’m a big-shot assassin. Don’t you want to test your skills against mine? Brag to your friends about how you took me down with your bare hands?”

He laughed. “Do people really fall for that? Please. I might be an enduro just like you are, but I know better than to get within arm’s reach of you.

” His laughter faded away, and he gave me another cruel grin.

“Since you won’t be a good boy and cooperate, I’ll just have to put a few rounds in your arms and legs to put you down. ”

I tensed and shifted my weight into my toes. Floyd hesitated, his gun wavering, before he aimed the weapon at my left arm. The instant his finger curled back on the trigger, I whipped my left hand up, threw the knife at him, and dove to the side all in one smooth motion.

My aim was true, and the knife sank into Floyd’s right shoulder. He yelped in surprise and staggered back, but he still pulled the trigger.

Pfft!

Thanks to the suppressor, the gun only made a small, muffled sound instead of a loud crack that would have made all the guards come running. Good for me. But Floyd was a better shot than I’d expected, and the bullet tore through my jacket sleeve and grazed my left arm. Bad for me.

A line of hot, stinging pain sliced across my upper arm, but I was too committed to my dive to stop, and I hit the ground hard. More pain exploded in my body at the jarring impact, but I grunted and used the momentum to roll farther away, sending up sprays of snow, dirt, and leaves in my wake.

Floyd cursed and wrenched the knife out of his shoulder. He snarled with pain, tossed the blade aside, and spun toward me.

I snatched up a rock from the ground and chucked it at him. My aim wasn’t great, and the rock sailed over his head, but it still caused Floyd to instinctively duck.

I scrambled back up onto my feet and sprinted straight at the guard, who cursed and raised his gun again. I closed the distance between us and chopped down with my hand, knocking the weapon out of his fingers. Then I surged forward and punched him in the throat to keep him from yelling for help.

The blow rocked him back, but it didn’t knock him down.

Floyd shook his head, wheezing for air, then charged forward and lashed out with his own fists.

I ducked the jab at my face, but he socked me square in the chest. Pain exploded in my ribs, and all the air whooshed out of my lungs.

Floyd had a healthy amount of strength to go along with his enduro stamina.

The pain in my ribs intensified the hot, throbbing sting from where the bullet had grazed my arm, but I pushed the misery of my injuries aside and grabbed hold of the fresh energy they poured into my body. Then I drew back my fist and clocked Floyd in the jaw.

Once again, my blow rocked the guard back, but it didn’t put him down. I growled with frustration. Floyd lashed out with his own fist, driving me back.

The guard raised his fists and dug his feet into the snow, firming up his fighting stance.

I did the same, eyeing him warily. I also scanned the woods, but I didn’t see any flashlights bobbing in this direction.

None of the other guards had heard our scuffle, and the only sounds were the crunch of our boots on the snow and our raspy breaths frosting in the air.

Floyd darted in, trying to use his enduro quickness to take me by surprise, but I ignored the feint and cracked my fist across his jaw again. He staggered back, and his gaze flicked to the right. His gun was lying off to the side, looking like a lump of coal lying in the snow.

Floyd’s eyes narrowed. His aura glowed an ugly orange over his heart, and he dove for his gun.

He landed on his belly and slid forward like a kid playing in the snow.

His hand closed around the weapon, and he flipped over onto his back and aimed the gun at my head.

Despite his orders, Floyd wasn’t interested in capturing me anymore.

Still channeling the pain of my injuries with my galvanism, I stepped forward and kicked Floyd in the chest as hard as I could. The force of the blow lifted him off the ground and threw him back five feet.

Crack.

The back of Floyd’s head slammed into a boulder sticking up out of the ground, and his orange aura abruptly snuffed out, like a candle flame doused by a stiff wind.

The gun tumbled from his fingers, his head dropped, and blood sluiced down the side of his neck and dripped onto the snow like scarlet raindrops.

Floyd was dead.

I leaned forward and put my hands on my knees, trying to get my breath back through my bruised ribs.

Footsteps crunched through the snow, heading in my direction. I straightened up, whirled around, and raised my fists . . .

Gabriel stepped out of the trees and walked over to me. He looked at the dead guard, then shook his head. “You always have to make a mess, don’t you, Slick? I thought the idea was to come out here, find Henrika’s lab, and sneak back into the hotel without anyone being the wiser.”

He stabbed a finger at the guard’s body. “I haven’t been a cleaner for a while, but that is not what sneaking around looks like.”

He was right. Section 47 prided itself on its anonymity, and cleaners were supposed to get in, eliminate their targets, and get out, all without leaving a trace of themselves behind. Snow, dirt, and leaves were scuffed all over the clearing, and Floyd had bled over everything around him.

Gabriel shook his head again. “He looks like some poor deer you gutted.”

“He was a lot more dangerous than a bloody deer,” I rasped.

I limped over, plucked my knife off the ground, and tucked it up my sleeve. I also grabbed Floyd’s gun and slid it into my waistband. Then I knelt beside the dead guard and rifled through his pockets.

He was carrying a phone and a walkie-talkie.

I used my galvanism to drain the charges out of both devices and sent those spikes of energy to my grazed arm and bruised ribs.

The fresh influx of power lessened the pain of my injuries, and I sighed with relief, my breath frosting in the cold air again.

“So that’s what galvanism looks like,” Gabriel murmured. “Did you know your eyes glow this weird silver-blue when you’re using your power?”

I rolled said silver-blue eyes. “Why the surprise? You saw me use my galvanism in Germany during the Tannenbaum mission.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get an up-close-and-personal look at it. I was a little more concerned about the mercenaries attacking us than watching your eyes light up like Christmas trees.” Gabriel shuddered. “Galvanism is kind of creepy if you ask me.”

I slid the dead phone and the walkie-talkie back into the guard’s pockets. “It’s no creepier than watching your body dissolve into a smoke cloud like you’re a nightmare monster.”

“Nightmare monster, huh?” Gabriel grinned. “I like it. Maybe I’ll use that as a code name sometime.”

I huffed. “Well, Mr. Nightmare Monster, make yourself useful, and help me carry the guard’s body down to the lake so we can sink him in the water. With any luck, no one will notice he’s missing until morning.”

“And after that?” Gabriel asked in a chiding voice. “Bryce is no fool. He’ll know you killed this guy.”

“Just like I know Bryce sent this guy to capture me, and we’ll both pretend like nothing happened the next time we see each other. It’s how the spy game is played.”

Gabriel nudged the guard’s leg with his boot. “Bryce wanted this guy to capture you? Why not just kill you?”

“Bryce hates me. He probably has some grand dream of stringing me up like a side of beef and butchering me a piece at a time,” I replied. “What about you? Did you find anything by the lake?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Nope. No sign of Henrika’s lab. No guards either. I didn’t even come across a couple having an ill-advised tryst in one of the boathouses.”

We’d come out here and risked our lives, and we had a whole lot of nothing to show for it. The risking-my-life part came with the job, but I wanted—needed—to get back to the hotel and make sure Charlotte was okay.

I bent down and took hold of Floyd’s shoulders. “Come on, Gaby. Heave-ho. Time to put all those muscles to use.”

Gabriel muttered his annoyance, but he bent down and grabbed the dead guard’s legs. Together, we carried the body toward the lake.