That Morning
Eight A.M.
Pulling up to FBI West, the four Hunters were ready to go. Their flight landed twenty minutes early, and there had been a car waiting for them.
Flying first class on a jet had its advantages. Like the non-stop flight that caught the tailwind and made record time.
Plus, avoiding any paper trail was also a good thing. The Blackhawks had moved mountains to get them there without anyone being the wiser, and they were grateful. It meant being able to transport the arsenal of weapons they would need for this job.
Only, now, it was time to get down to business.
With Rogue working in tandem with Remmy back inNOLA, they were able to narrow that list of four suspects down for the Blackhawks.
There were two that stood out, and two were now on the hunting list.
Hopefully, Elizabeth and Gene would be ready to go. Working during the daylight wasNOT ONEof their favorite things to do, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Everything was good until they parked the blacked-out SUV in the parking lot.
The manchild lost his shit when they were about to get out. It was clear that he had believed they’d only been busting his ass on the jet.
Surprise.
They hadn’t been.
“I told you that I’m not fucking going in there,” Zayn stated. “I’m a freaking mercenary. I’ve killed FBI agents before.They likely know it too. Had I known you weren’t kidding on the flight, I would have jumped from the fucking jet!”
Maura sighed.
The paranoia was running rampant with this one today. They probably shouldn’t have busted his ass so much on the flight there.
The cuckoo was cuckooing.
“Don’t be a pussy. This isn’t a trap. Now, I’m sorry we went there. We should have never riled you up. We were kidding, Zayn. You’re safe in there.”
Still…
The man wasn’t budging.
No.
Freaking.
Way.
A mercenary had limits, and his was walking into FBI West in full mercenary gear. That just screamed insanity to him. His self-preservation was the law of the land. After all, he had a wife and flower garden to go home to at the end of the night.
Call it paranoia, but he liked not being locked up in jail, fighting for his life.
“Well, you did. Whatever happened to mercenaries avoiding shit like this? Those were the good old days! You put me in my Blues and made me go to the White House for a wedding! Now, you want to parade me past FBI agents? No. Absolutely not happening today, tomorrow, or ever!”
Jagger tried.
“No one is going to pay any attention to you. Not with that mug.”
He shook his head.
“Nope. I said it once, and I said it five times. I wasn’t kidding on the jet. I’m not going in, and you can’t make me.”
