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“I’ll call Colt and be right there…and Priest…don’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t,” I answered, fighting every instinct I had in me.
I hung up the call, watching the sonofabitch who’d put a gun to my head sit across the road from where my family slept. I knew he was there. I’d seen him before at the mountain, perched high up, had followed his car as it slowed outside our drive.
They wouldn’t leave us alone. Even now in the wake of Hale’s real death and the destruction of The Order. Still, he kept coming. Protecting a ghost…or was he? That nagging thought filled my head. Because why else was he here?
Beep.
I looked down to my cell.
Caleb: Two streets north.
I stepped out, pushed my hands into my pockets and hunched over, keeping to the shadows. Agent Bremmer never noticed me, not when I slipped around the rear of his car and headed north. But I noticed him, hunched down behind the wheel.
Why was he here?
What was he planning?
Headlights flashed once in the dark up ahead. I quickened my steps toward the four-wheel drive and climbed into the back.
“We’ve done some digging and found his address.” Caleb said from behind the wheel.
“Good.” I tugged my belt low. “I think it’s time we paid him a visit.”
The engine started, we turned hard without the headlights on, worked our way around him, then headed to a quiet part of the city where we slowed down outside a lowset dark brick house. No car was in the driveway. No evidence anyone else lived there at all.
“Single from what we found. Had a girlfriend but she left him six months ago. Now he lives and breathes the badge.” Caleb pulled the car in and parked further down the street.
“A version of it at least,” I added. “One that protects the corrupt.”
Caleb lifted his gaze to the rear-view mirror. “Are you ready to hunt now, Priest?”
Those words haunted me.
“Yes.” I pushed open the door. “I am now.”
Colt handed me a gun. Any other time, I might’ve recoiled from the weapon. But not anymore. I took it and slipped it inside the waistband of my jeans at the small of my back. Together we headed for the FBI agent’s house. Colt picked the lock, getting us inside in minutes. I readied myself for a dog, but it looked like the agent didn’t even have that.
His house was sparse. The study and bedroom were the only rooms which looked lived in. Microwavable meals in the freezer, the cupboard bare except for coffee and creamer. This man was a wasted life, one which needed an ending.
“Over here,” Caleb called softly.
Both of us headed over, stood in front of the makeshift desk in the living room, and stared at the transcript sitting in front of the printer.
“They’re names,” Caleb said, pulling sheet after sheet forward. “And instructions. These are men he’s been paid to protect. Men Hale paid him to protect.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Colt glanced at me.
He rarely spoke, but when he did, it was exactly what I was thinking. We stood there for ages, pulling apart all the documents, gathering what information we could until headlights cut through the window, blinding us for a moment before they were gone.
A car engine died and the thud of a door followed.
“Grab that chair,” Caleb murmured. “Colt, you know what to do.”
But the Son was already moving, cutting across the door to stand at the side as the jingle of keys came. Bremmer never stood a chance as he opened the door and stepped inside. Colt moved fast, wrapped his thick arm around his neck, and squeezed.
Seconds was all it took.
