Page 34 of Lethal Illusion (Six Points Security #8)
“No, but there are times I’ve regretted the actions of others. That they put me in a position where the only choice was to take a life.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I could make that kind of decision.”
Navarre gave her credit for being honest about it. Not everybody had that ability.
“Becoming a sniper isn’t easy. They don’t just hand you a rifle and tell you who to kill.
The qualification course is seven weeks long; less than half of the candidates make it through.
They teach you how to evaluate a situation, determine the threat, and weigh your options, all within a split second.
They also show you how to process the emotions that come with taking a life.
” Still, there were occasions when some of those emotions slipped through the cracks.
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stared out into the forest. “There was a kid one time. A boy. I never knew his name—it’s better that way—but he couldn’t have been older than twelve.
He was wearing a vest packed with explosives.
My spotter almost missed it because it was hidden under a big, bulky coat.
He was walking toward a market full of people, a huge smile on his face like he didn’t have a care in the world.
If I hadn’t dropped him, a lot of innocent civilians would have died. ”
Empathy softened Sloane’s voice. “That had to be hard.”
“It wasn’t at the time. All that training kicked in, and I did what I had to do. But every now and then, I still think about that kid. About the lowlife who convinced him to strap on that vest and sent him off to die. Whoever it was, they were far more deserving of the bullet.”
Reaching out, she touched his arm, and the simple contact grounded him in a way nothing else possibly could. A heavy silence settled between them, and for some stupid reason, he felt the inexorable need to fill it.
“I killed a man last year.” Christ, why the fuck did he just tell her that? She was going to think he was some sort of monster. Perhaps that was the point. “He took out a contract on somebody I care about.”
Shock widened her eyes. “A contract, as in he hired a hitman?”
Navarre nodded.
“Did he succeed?”
“No. We tricked the asshole who’d come to do the job into believing he succeeded.
Unfortunately, that kind of deception is only a temporary fix.
The person targeted can’t play dead forever—not if they want any semblance of a normal life—and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.
We could have killed the assassin—we had the shot lined up—but that wouldn’t have solved the problem either.
That’s the thing about contracts; kill the killer, and another one takes their place.
Again and again and again.” He started to walk again, and she matched the pace of his strides.
“The only way to make it stop is to eliminate the person who initiated the contract. If no one’s getting paid, no one’s getting killed. ”
She looked as though she was weighing the situation from every angle in her mind. “I assume going to the police wasn’t an option.”
“Oh, it’s always an option, but it wouldn’t have done any good. This was one of those instances where the only viable option was a bullet.”
The creases lining her brow were a clear indication that didn’t settle well with her. “And you’re okay with assuming the role of judge, jury, and executioner?”
“I never lost sleep over it. It’s rare for the law to punish those types of people.
They’re rich, and powerful, and well-connected, and they almost always get what they want without facing any kind of real-life consequences.
In this case, there was only one way to stop him.
Anything less would have resulted in the death of somebody I care about. ”
He glanced at her, feeling oddly defensive. Most of the time, he didn’t care what others thought about him, but she was different. Her opinion mattered to him in a way he couldn’t quite put into words. “I suppose you think that makes me a bad person.”
“That’s not what I said. It’s just…I don’t know.” She made a vague gesture with her hands. “It’s not my place to judge you. I’ve never had to make that kind of decision. Hopefully, I’ll never have to.”
Jackson would have given his eyeteeth to be on one of the teams out in the woods searching for Navarre and Sloane, but Six Points had strict rules about injured employees working in the field.
Until he received a clean bill of health, he’d have to settle for a spot in the control center.
Technically, it was a step up in the chain of command, but right now it sure didn’t feel that way.
He paced the expansive living area of Sierra’s mountainside estate, which had been converted into a temporary base of operations.
Two teams had ventured into the forest, one led by Austin, the other by Wade, searching for their missing colleagues.
To his left, four agents sat at the rustic wooden table by the big bay window, remotely piloting aerial drones equipped with thermal and high-resolution cameras.
But they’d yet to find so much as a trace, which wasn’t all that surprising, considering Navarre’s military training.
They’d probably have an easier time finding Bigfoot.
The sound of cursing caught Jackson’s attention. It didn’t sound like angry cursing, more like somebody caught by surprise. He crossed to where Rosario sat, staring at her laptop monitor.
“What’s going on?” Jackson asked.
Rosario glanced up, an odd expression on her battered face. The bruising around her broken nose had deepened to a dark purple, making her look like she’d done ten rounds in a boxing ring without headgear. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. Which one do you want first?”
He’d always hated that question. “Let’s start with the bad.”
“The drone’s toast.”
“Aw, fuck.” His stomach knotted. The boss was going to be pissed. “You crashed a nine-thousand-dollar drone?”
“No, it got shot out of the sky. The GPS is still functional though, so we should be able to retrieve it. Once we get it back, I can see if the damage is reparable.”
“Who shot it?” he asked.
“Well, that’s the good news.” With a grin, Rosario angled the screen to give Jackson a better view. “Take a look.”
Nerves on edge, he stared down at the screen as the aerial footage began to play.
The drone skimmed above the tree canopy, its infrared camera showing a tapestry of blues and purples that indicated a lack of heat signatures.
Occasionally, a small flicker of orange appeared, most likely the body heat of a bird or squirrel—far too small to be human.
But then two orange figures came into view, one larger than the other, both walking upright.
There for a second, and then gone. The drone reversed course, bringing them back into view.
The camera feed switched from thermal to high resolution, but now the only things visible were tree branches.
It shifted to the right, to a break in the canopy, and a man in dark clothing could be seen on the ground, aiming a pistol toward the sky.
Suddenly, the drone lurched to the right, lurched again, and then plummeted to earth. Upon impact, the feed turned to static.
Jackson’s mouth went slack. “Is that who I think it is?”
Rosario rewound the footage and froze it at the exact moment the man’s face came into view.
“Son of a bitch.” Relief hit him so hard, his knees nearly buckled. . He couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this happy to see Navarre’s face, though he’d still give his friend a load of crap for needing two shots to down the drone.
“Am I good or what?” Rosario said, her smile even wider than Jackson’s.
“You’re the best.” He clapped Rosario’s shoulder. “How far away is the drone?”
“Approximately four miles.” Rosario opened a window on the laptop to reveal a map of the area.
She tapped the upper right section of the screen.
“We’re here. The drone’s there. It’s rugged terrain, though.
No roads, but we might be able to access it with ATVs.
Even so, we won’t be able to get there quickly. ”
She was right, damn it. But they were a hell of a lot closer to rescuing Navarre and Sloane than they were ten minutes ago.
Still smiling, Jackson swiped at the screen of his phone and called Austin.
“Give me good news,” Austin said when he answered, and Jackson was happy to oblige.
“We found them.”