Gene held out his fist.
“We got him. The house is on the outskirts ofDamascus,in a rich development. He picked a place where he’d be safe. There’s a gate and security.”
She didn’t care.
She was going in with Marines.
And he was dead.
“Text Maura,” she said. “We’re in the home stretch. We’re going to go grab up that piece of shit. It’s time for him to pay for everything he’s done.”
Gene was good with that.
Devon Slater had done enough damage to his family.
It was time to make him pay.
With his life.
Chapter Twenty
Baltimore
East Coast
Afternoon
There was nothing Eve Rankin liked more than raising hell, making money, and taking out the trash. The trash in question this time was none other than Veruca Filmore, and she had what was about to happen to her coming.
When you burned people, specifically other mercenaries, you ended up ten toes up and pushing daisies.
One of the big rules of mercenary work was you didn’t betray or talk about mercenaries, and Veruca did both.
So, now, she was about to have her day of reckoning.
That was if her husband didn’t lose his goddamn mind first. It appeared that he was on the scent.
When her phone rang, she saw his face, and wasn’t going to answer at first, but that seemed all kinds of wrong. When you were married, you had a person you were accountable to, and that person was him.
So, she took the call.
“Hey,” she said, answering the video call as she sat in her rental car.
Dakota was all smiles.
“Hey, gorgeous. I miss you. What are you doing?” he asked. “Are you in a car?”
Oh, boy.
Apparently, Maura and Jagger hadn’t been in contact with him.
“Yeah, I’m in a car,” she said.
At her tone, Dakota lifted a brow.
“Where’s the baby?”
She laughed.
