Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

Seattle

H is steps controlled and precise, the assassin opened the door and walked into the hotel room. Outwardly, there was no indication of the chaos erupting inside him.

He grabbed a burner out of his stash and dropped into a chair. The only sign of any kind of turmoil was the heavy sigh he gave before pressing a series of numbers.

The call was answered before the first ring ended. “Identification?” the female voice said.

“0025413.”

The instant he finished reciting the numbers, he heard a soft hitch, and then her voice gentled as she said, “Hold, please.”

He didn’t know who she was, knew nothing about her…didn’t even know her first name. What he did know was she was the only pleasant thing in his life. They’d never had a real conversation, but for some reason, he felt closer to her than anyone else in this cursed life he lived.

She could be an octogenarian with ten great-grandchildren, but in his mind’s eye, she was perfect—wavy blond hair, camellia complexion, and a smile as soft as a rose petal. The Southern drawl was almost undetectable, but when she said please , he heard a trace of the South, and it always soothed him.

The good feeling lasted only a second, because the next voice was as pleasant as a bullfrog. “Report.”

With the same emotionless voice he used each time, he snapped, “Target down.”

“Excellent. Any problems?”

“Negative.”

“The funds have been transferred.”

He listened carefully for any inflection or hesitation in the emotionless, almost-robotic tone. Did they know anything? There was only a slight easing of tension in his body when he detected nothing.

“We will be in touch.” On that abrupt note, the call ended.

With practiced efficiency, he quickly disassembled the burner and broke the SIM card in half. Taking another burner from the stash, he made another call.

The instant the call was answered, he growled, “Jazz was there.”

Shocked silence followed and then, “Did she see you?”

“Yes.”

“And she recognized you.” It wasn’t a question. Of course Jazz had recognized him. She hadn’t seen his face, but that didn’t matter. He had seen the recognition in her expression. In a flicker of seconds, he’d also seen all the other emotions, like pain, fear, and deep disappointment. Each one had pierced his soul.

“What do you want to do?”

What could he do? Nothing, absolutely nothing.

“I need OZ to back off.”

More silence, this time followed by a sigh. “The team makes those decisions.”

“You owe me.”

Okay, yeah, that might be a bit of a stretch. It had been a mutually beneficial relationship, but in this, they shared a common goal.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The line went dead.

By rote, he disassembled the burner and put it with the other one. Rising, he stuffed his toiletries into his duffel, grabbed the phone parts, and exited the room. He’d been here for two days. Way too long.

It was time to move on.