Page 62 of Black and Brown

“Copy,” Mirage muttered.

“First priority is to secure the safe transport of the general. Priority two is to make it appear that one of Woyashi’s own men turned on him and killed him. Final task. Execute explosives engineer Zelmir Benton.”

“Hard copy,” Mirage acknowledged.

Mirage

Mirage was positive he and Grace could handle a mercenary army. But the director was right about one thing: it would be a massacre.

Rogue mercs didn’t stop at eliminating threats against them. They also didn’t care about taking out collateral damage.

“We’re going with long-range elimination.”

Their Shadow team got down to the hard stuff.

Skeet pointed to a gutted skyscraper.

“Here’s your perch, Grace. Your elimination window will be open for seventeen minutes.”

It only took a couple of seconds for Mirage to calculate the distance.

“That perch is 4.9 kilometers from Woyashi’s location.” His temple began to throb. “You want Grace to make a single kill shot from three fuckin’ miles away.”

Skeet grimaced, not making eye contact with Grace as if he knew he and his team had exponentially upped the ante on an already impossible mission.

“That’s why we need Grace,” Corvo spoke for the first time in a deep, raspy Hispanic accent. “Meridian’s never eliminated from that distance.”

It’d be a record-breaking shot. And the higher-ups were confident that his Grace could do it.

Mirage glanced over at his partner. He recognized the drive burning in Grace’s eyes.

After several more hours of planning, they had their assignment locked tight.

Spectre rattled off the final details.

“You leave at twenty-one hundred. Your rendezvous points will be provided midflight. The team is already equipping your transport with your standard artillery, surveillance gear, and a 308 Daniel Delta.”

What the— Holy shit!

Mirage knew how much Grace loved his SAKO, but the Delta was one of the best sniper rifles ever invented and accessible only to the United States Marine Corps Special Forces.

He and Grace had been inducted into the league of extraordinary men and women.

The ride in the elevator was strained with the heavy weight of their mission on Mirage’s mind, but Grace’s silence was heavier.

He eased in tight on his partner’s heels, close enough for him to feel his body heat and his confidence.

Grace stopped in front of their door, his head lowered and his body language radiating concern.

Mirage knew why.

He inched closer until his lips were on the nape of Grace’s neck.

“Nothing has changed.”

Grace grunted.

“No, it hasn’t.”