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“Hang on,” Samuel said and all eyes looked to him. “The surveillance team just raised an alert.” Camera footage flashed onto the screens in his office. James leaned forward without realizing it.
“She’s moving. She’s leaving the hotel... Where are you going, Widow?” Samuel asked, seemingly more to himself than the team.
James stood, grabbing his keys and cell phone.
“James, don’t do this,” Samuel warned.
“I need to see her,” James said.
Cami stood. “I’ll come with you.”
Samuel shook his head. “No one listens to me,” he said under his breath and James might’ve laughed if he wasn’t about to see Widow in the flesh—the woman who had killed his mentor.
James had been reluctant to take the job with the CIA, but he’d done it because a man named Frederick Ramsey had taken charge of the agency—the agency that had once tried to kill Deacon and James, something they’d never forgotten. But that was before Frederick’s reign, and Frederick had been different. He’d cleaned out the corruption, and he'd shown loyalty and protection to his agents. He’d treated them like family. So, James took the role and it had given him more satisfaction and enjoyment than he could’ve ever dreamed of. He’d worked closely with Fred, and he’d become family. He’d attended family dinner every Sunday, he’d given James’s daughter Christmas and birthday gifts, the same for Deacon’s children and Cami’s. He’d become one of them, and then he’d been taken from them by her: Widow.
For five long years he’d looked for her, but every time he got close she’d slipped away.
Not this time.
Whatever she’d been doing in hiding, she’d given James an advantage. He’d had time to process Fred’s death and was no longer blinded by grief. He was back to the old James Thomas—the one people feared, the one who would go to the ends of the earth to hunt someone down.
Widow had chosen the worst time to poke the bear.
James grabbed an earpiece, inserting it as he walked toward the lift. He stopped at the weapons room to grab a few supplies. Cami was right beside him.
“What’s the plan?” she asked with a grin.
James grinned back. “You know there’s no plan. We observe, then we plan. She wanted to be found, so let’s give her what she wants—for now. Let her think she’s playing us, then we’ll show her our cards.”
Cami’s eyes danced. “I miss you some days, you know.”
James chuckled. “Some days... good to know.”
She laughed as they walked toward the elevator. Waiting for the elevator to arrive, he felt that strange sense of chilling excitement pulse through his veins. He missed the field but it wasn’t just that—nor was it only revenge... Widow was the only one who had beaten James at his own game. But the game wasn’t over yet.
When the elevator doors opened at the basement, they stepped out and James saw a familiar figure leaning against a black sedan. “Need a ride?”
James grinned at Deacon.
“Let’s go!” James said as he slid into the passenger seat and Cami got in the back. It was like the early days of Thomas Security when it had just been the three of them working the cases. It was rare now for all three of them to be together in the field but James wasn’t the only one who had loved Fred. They all had, and now they would hunt his killer.
“She’s at the Plaza Hotel,”Samuel said through his earpiece.“She’s in the restaurant enjoying tea. It’s a landmark restaurant, James, don’t make a mess.”
James grinned. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Samuel. Which table is she at?”
“Window, fourth table from the left. It’s busy, which will be your blessing,”Samuel said.
“Copy,” James responded
He used the time to strategize but when Deacon pulled up at the front of the hotel, he still didn’t have a solid plan.
They made their way to the restaurant. “Reservation for two for Jack Johnson,” he said, giving his new alias. James knew Samuel would’ve placed a reservation in their system. They’d worked together so long now James didn’t have to ask Samuel to do things like this—he just knew.
The hostess smiled. “Of course, Mr. Johnson, right this way.”
James and Cami walked in sync with the hostess to the table. His pulse raced, but not because he was in danger. It was unlikely Widow would start a shoot-out in the Plaza. That wasn’t her style. No, Widow was much more cunning than that, and she took her victims quietly.
Widow was the best assassin James had ever known.
