Page 57 of Shadow Boxed (Shadow Warriors #2)

Chapter forty-six

“Wait.” Nantz’s voice rose for the word. But when Embray stopped walking, it lowered again. “This isn’t a dealbreaker for me. If you’re more comfortable with your security by your side, I can accommodate that.” He was still smiling, but his smile looked strained, rather than fake now.

Embray remained silent and still long enough to whiten Nantz’s face. O’Neill could almost taste their target’s fear of losing a ripe opportunity.

Finally, with a lift to his shoulders, and a crack of his neck, Embray turned around and studied Nantz with narrow eyes. “Are you certain of this, Nantz?”

“Quite.” The bob to Nantz’s head looked frantic. So did the feverish light shining in his eyes. He appeared to desperately want, maybe even need, this business opportunity.

The secretary quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

“Then let’s continue.” Embray ambled further into the room. He glanced toward O’Neill. “Sweep for listening devices.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” Nantz protested.

There was so much worry on the dude’s face, O’Neill suspected he’d bugged the office himself. Probably to share private conversations with other interested parties.

“I protect my interests,” Embray retorted, “The reason you’ve never heard of this opportunity is because of these precautions.”

O’Neill pulled a small, plastic rectangle with a wide display and a thick antenna out of his pocket and moved toward the back of the office.

His footsteps were silent, the deep-pile carpet cushioning each step.

At least he didn’t need to worry about the target’s feet pounding the floor and bringing in the calvary.

When he nudged the scanner’s power button on, it instantly started beeping. The display started flashing red.

Why look at that, Good ol’ Nantz had a bug.

“Boss,” O’Neill said tersely. “We got a listening device.”

“No, that’s not possible.” Clark spun toward O’Neill and started in horror at the beeping and flashing device. “I just swept this room prior to your arrival.”

Embray waved the protest off. “It’s probably a new device with GSM technology. If you have an older scanner, it won’t pick up the new frequencies.” He motioned to Capland. “Jam it.” And then gestured to O’Neill and Simcosky. “Find the damn thing or things.”

Which was O’Neill and Simcosky’s sign to get in position and take Nantz down.

The electronic jammer Capland pulled out of his pocket cut the bug’s frequency off in mid beep. It would disrupt any cell phones in use too. But if someone was using one and brought up the dropped call to the police later, Embray would have a good excuse for the disrupted service.

Nantz was still standing in the middle of the office, with plenty of open space around him. Perfect positioning for the takedown. O’Neill and Cosky moved in behind their target as Capland silently advanced on the desk with its open laptop.

Looked like they were about to get lucky, acquiring Nantz and his computer hard drive in one fell swoop.

When Nantz turned to watch as O’Neill pretended to search for the bug, Embray stepped up and dropped his voice. “Nobody can listen in on us now. How much do you know about cryptocurrency?”

Nantz turned back to Embray and leaned closer, focusing intently on Embray’s muffled voice.

Cosky withdrew the prefilled syringe from his jacket pocket, uncapped it, and waited for O’Neill to move. This was where things got tricky. One shout would bring their target’s security detail into the room. A mistake at this stage could send them to the hospital…or prison.

Neither possibility was acceptable.

“I’m up to date on most cryptocurrencies. Is that what this is about?” Nantz asked, his voice anticipatory as Embray moved in even closer.

O’Neill slid up behind them. With one fluid movement he slapped his right palm over the target’s mouth and wrapped his left arm around Nantz’s neck.

Cosky moved in with the syringe, injecting it beneath O’Neill’s left arm, into the meaty part of their target’s upper back, where his jacket and shirt would hide the puncture mark when he was lying down.

Nantz froze for a second, then violently squirmed. His mouth moved beneath O’Neill’s palm, weak mewling sounds escaping. O’Neill’s palm pressed harder, until the weak cries dried up completely.

A weird sensation, almost an electric buzzing, flashed across O’Neill’s mind, followed by what felt like butterflies brushing their wings against his brain.

The sensation was creepy and recognizable.

He’d felt the same thing the few times he’d used his spirit gift and sank into another’s consciousness.

Son of a bitch.

His heart lurched into his throat, almost strangling him.

He couldn’t afford this distraction. Not now. Yet he didn’t know how to turn it off. He should have allowed Benioko to teach him how to use this gift—or more appropriately, how to prevent its use. Now his mentor was gone, and O’Neill had no fucking clue how the damn thing worked.

He tightened his grip on Nantz’s mouth and his arm around the target’s neck, and shoved the butterflies out of his brain with every ounce of mental strength he possessed.

They vanished as suddenly as they’d arrived.

Hoping to keep Nantz’s consciousness at bay, he concentrated on the humid warmth against his palm and the rise and fall of Embray’s voice.

“What I’m looking into is a new type of cryptocurrency with unlimited potential.” Embray raised his voice, drowning out the faint shush shush of Nantz’s shoes kicking against the carpet.

So far, so good. The butterflies hadn’t come back and Nantz wasn’t making enough noise to attract attention. Nor did he have the self-defense training to break the hold O’Neill had on him. Fuck, he hadn’t even tried a headbutt.

Capland should already be downloading the laptop’s hard drive. Another minute tops and the drug would kick in. Five minutes and all the information on Nantz’s laptop would be theirs.

Embray kept talking…droning on and on about numbers and markets.

Nantz’s squirming weakened.

“Try not to kill him,” Cosky warned in a whisper, his voice buried beneath Embray’s monologue. “He needs to be alive to answer our questions.”

O’Neill rolled his eyes, but eased up on the neck lock. Nantz’s struggles weakened even further. A few seconds later, he went limp.

He could be faking his collapse...or not. It was about time for the drug to kick in. O’Neill loosened the neck hold even more. No response. Their target just hung there. Limp.

Cosky moved around to the front and pulled back his eyelids. “He’s out.”

As O’Neill carefully lowered Nantz to the floor, Cosky pulled out his phone and quickly typed out a message. Probably to Rawlings, telling him to come collect their target. At least that’s what their plan called for.

While Simcosky was summoning their ambulance, O’Neill knelt beside their target, unbuttoned his jacket, and ripped open his dress shirt. He was relieved to see the rise and fall of Nantz’s chest. But even more relieved, the electric buzzing and freaky butterflies didn’t make another appearance.

Since Nantz’s skin tone was more olive than white, his neck wasn’t as red as O’Neill had feared. But if the security detailed noticed, he’d have to come up with an excuse.

Target down . He broadcast through the Neealaho.

Embray suddenly broke off his litany of nonsense to ask in a sharp voice, “Clark? What’s wrong?” He paused a moment before adding, “Clark! Clark? Can you hear me?”

His voice was loud enough to catch the attention of Nantz’s security. Three men burst through a door at the back of the office.

Embray looked up. “Call an ambulance!” he barked. Which was also Capland’s cue to turn off the jammer.

“Jaspers, call 999,” a bodyguard with a hawkish face and a sturdy build said before turning to Nantz. His suspicious gaze assessed Nantz’s prone form, lingering on the slight red around his neck. Then scanned the four other men in the room. “What happened to him?’

“He just collapsed,” Embray said. “One moment he was fine and the next he was down.”

“Why’s his shirt open?” The guy’s sharp eyes traveled back to his employer’s neck. “And why’s his neck red?”

Still kneeling beside their fallen target. O’Neill grunted. “Both those are on me,” he said without apology. “I tried to break his fall and caught him around the neck. Guess my hold was tighter than I thought. As for his shirt. I opened it in case he needed CPR.”

The lead bodyguard dropped to his knees opposite O’Neill and reached for his client’s pulse.

“He’s got a pulse. He’s breathing.” He twisted to yell over his shoulder. “What’s the ETA on the ambulance.”

“Ten minutes,” someone shouted back. “Traffic’s backed up.”

Now that was good to hear. Hopefully, Wolf could back the traffic up even more.

“Tell me exactly what happened.” The lead bodyguard nailed O’Neill with a combative look.

O’Neill shrugged. “No idea. He staggered, muttered something, and collapsed. I barely caught him before he hit the ground.”

The bodyguard’s eyes narrowed. “What did he say before he collapsed?”

“No clue. It was garbled. I didn’t catch it.”

The bodyguard grunted, then looked toward Embray. “What about you?”

Embray shook his head. “I never heard what he said. Does he have some kind of medical condition that would cause this?”

“Sir?” The man on the phone with the 999 dispatcher passed the phone down to the head guard. “The dispatcher wants to speak with you.

“Eric,” the head guard said before he took the phone. “Go down to the lobby and escort the paramedics up. Davison, bring the car around.”

O’Neill rose to his feet as the lead guard took the phone.