He knew about the hit when he drove to Luciano’s. The beautiful blonde had been a surprise.
An hour later, they were boarding Luciano’s private jet. His cousin spoke with the pilot and copilot while Carrera got comfortable in the back.
Luciano’s easygoing smile faded as he sat next to him. “They think we’re going to visit a sick aunt.”
“Nice.”
They taxied to the runway, the bird gained speed before lifting effortlessly into the night sky.
“He’s staying at a rental property,” Luciano said. “He should be alone, but we assume he’s not.”
“Meaning?”
“He makes friends easily,” Luciano said. “Could be other men there. Could be a victim.” A sinister smile lifted his cousin’s lips. “A surprise awaits us.”
When on an undercover assignment with the Bureau, a lot of planning goes into making an arrest. While he understood thevalue of that, he meshed with Luciano’s methods better. Go in, make the hit, leave.
No discussion of what could go wrong, what back up plan was in place. Definitely riskier, but much more fluid.
An hour and a half later, the plane landed and they made their way to a black sedan, parked at the curb, outside the private aviation terminal. A lanky woman stood nearby on the sidewalk.
“Good to see you.” Luciano shook her hand.
She offered a tight smile, but said nothing.
After they sat in the back, she got behind the wheel. He gave her the address, but she didn’t enter it into her phone or into the vehicle’s GPS system. She said nothing as she drove them to their destination.
After pulling into a neighborhood, she cut the lights, drove to the end of the street, and parked at the curb. In the dark car, the men opened their go-bags. On went their helmets, night goggles up. Gloves on their hands.
They left without a goodbye, slinking into the darkness like the assassins they were. At three in the morning, the neighborhood was quiet. The beautiful June night allowed for open windows. He and Luciano made no sound, spoke no words.
Their goal? Leave no breadcrumb trail.
They passed the house where Butler was staying, walked around to the back. The house was bathed in darkness.
They moved their night goggles into place. Luciano tried the back door. It was locked, but within seconds he picked it open. Once it gave way, Luciano turned the handle. Even if the home had a security system, they’d move forward as planned.
Fortunately, it did not, and the silence stayed with them as they entered the home.
Rather than split up, they would stay together. They cleared the pitch-black basement. No one on the first floor. Up the stairsthey went, Carrera first. One of the steps creaked, the wood screaming out from his weight.
They stilled.
Then, they heard something being dragged off a table and hurried movement on the hardwood floor. Carrera charged toward the sound, coming from the bedroom on the right. He stormed into the room?—
Butler stood there in his underwear, a Glock in his outstretched hands.
BANG!
The bullet pierced Carrera’s vest, the force thrusting him backward. Luciano stopped him with his body, moved around him, and raised his weapon.
BANG! BANG!
Butler fired off two more rounds, hitting Luciano dead-center in the vest.
Carrera fired.
POP! POP! POP!
