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“Where’s Shiv?” asked Gunner.
“Upstairs with Eighty-eight,” Doc told him. “There’s a viable lead on Petrov’s whereabouts.”
“Iran?”
Doc shook his head. “Oregon.”
Fuck. On the other hand, Ava and Aine were here in California. If Petrov really was there, he was unaware of their whereabouts.
Raketa tugged at Gunner’s sleeve and handed him the burner phone.
Manzanita, said the text that came through.
“It’s like he can hear us,” Raketa whispered.
“Doc?” said Gunner.
“On it.”
“What?”
Gunner made a sweeping motion over her body. Rookie mistake, and one Razor had made with Ava. When it seemed like Petrov knew where she was within minutes of her arriving there, it finally dawned on his teammate that they’d never swept her suitcase for a tracking device. Sure enough, that’s where they found it. Gunner had swept her belongings, but not Raketa herself.
He put his finger in front of his lips and motioned for her to follow him inside. If her premonition was correct, their entire mission was compromised because Petrov knew exactly what they were about to do.
Something was bothering him about the phone calls. If Petrov was desperate to get his hands on her money as well a
s Ava’s and Aine’s, why wasn’t he baiting her in a more direct manner? Instead of disconnecting the call, why hadn’t he told her he’d kill her mother if she didn’t come to wherever he was and bring her half-sisters with her? If his intention was to kill the three of them, which Gunner figured was the most likely outcome, he would want them together.
Was that what the text was about? Was he telling her he was in Manzanita so she’d just show up? That didn’t make sense.
Gunner followed as Doc led Raketa into one of the downstairs bedrooms. “I’m sorry,” he said as he turned on the device that would let them know if she was carrying a bug on her clothing.
He’d gotten just below her shoulders when the device went off. Something had been planted in her sweater. It probably tracked her location as well as picked up dialogue. It was almost too easy to find it.
Wait. The sweater she was wearing had come from Gunner’s sister. The only way someone could’ve planted something in it would’ve been on his island, or, possibly in between the time she left and the time they met up in Chicago.
His thoughts filled him with rage. It was so fucking obvious. He stormed out of the bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him.
“Where’s Pimm?” he asked the group still sitting in the main room of the house.
Each of them either shrugged or said they didn’t know. Gunner stormed upstairs, but Pimm wasn’t with Shiv and Eighty-eight either. As he was headed back downstairs something caught his eye through the window in the stairwell.
Pimm was outside on this phone.
Gunner stalked downstairs and out the door. He didn’t bother to grab his gun from the holster; he was going to rip the man apart with his bare hands.
“What the—” Pimm eeked out before Gunner’s fist came in contact with his face. He didn’t stop with a single punch; he kept going, landing blow after blow on the man’s body.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard shouting, but he didn’t stop.
“Gunner!” Razor yelled, grabbing him from behind while Doc and Shiv picked Pimm up and moved him far enough away that Gunner couldn’t reach him if he escaped Razor’s grip.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Razor screamed at him while Gunner stared at the bloody pulp of the man with a burning hatred.
“He bugged her.” Gunner looked up at Shiv. “Your man is a goddamn double agent, you fucking asshole.”
“You’re wrong, Godet,” said Shiv, his voice too calm for Gunner.
