“Travis,” Beau’s voice carries down the hallway, “stop talking.”
“Seth. Office. Now.”
I walk down the hall and push the office door open.
Beau stands by the desk with his arms folded. He waits until I shut the door.
“I need your help with something,” he says.
“With what?” I ask.
“Mercer.”
The anger comes back the second I hear his name.
My fingers flex at my sides. I keep my face neutral.
“He was supposed to be my last hit,” Beau says.
I look at him.
“He slipped me,” Beau adds. “Got away before I could finish it.”
That alone is enough to tell me how bad the situation is.
Mercer is not sloppy. Mercer is not careless. Mercer is smart.
He is tactical in a way that makes most men look like amateurs, and when we were still in the Marines he has a reputation that only a handful of people ever earn. He was one of the most vicious killers in the unit.
Besides us.
“He knew I was coming for him,” Beau continues. “Which means he knows the contract is still open. And Mercer is not the type to sit around waiting for someone to try again. He is the type who hunts the person hunting him.”
Beau looks straight at me.
“So before I get the chance to recalibrate and go after him again, he is most likely going to come for me.”
Mercer is what happens when the military takes a violent ego and gives it structure. He learns the rules well enough to bend them. He learns the language of brotherhood well enough to hide behind it. He's the guy who volunteers first, then makes sure someone else pays the cost.
He likes pressure. He likes watching people crack. He likes testing boundaries until you either fight back or fold.
Me and Beau clocked him early. I mean we are no saints, but Mercer’s kind of cruelty isn’t about orders or missions. It is personal entertainment. He never says the quiet parts out loud, but everybody hears them anyway.
The worst part is that Mercer can perform competently when it matters. He can shoot. He can move. He can plan. He can make it look clean. When you try to warn someone about him, you sound paranoid because Mercer knows how to keep his record polished while he dirties everything else.
I look at Beau and keep my voice low. “Fuck. I always hated that asshole.”
Beau holds my gaze. “Now you can kill him. I need backup for this.”
“Beau,” I sigh. “Brooke is in the other room. We are already on a nationwide manhunt list. Every move we make is a risk. We can’t start taking side work.”
Beau’s jaw tightens. “This is not side work. This is a threat coming at us.”
I look at him. “You have people. You always have people.”
“None that I trust more than you,” Beau replies. “I need your help, Seth.”
That lands harder than Mercer’s name.
