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Melting into the shadows, guns at the ready, he waited. Not a moment too soon, either, because he heard the door creak open. Heard their breaths.
He couldn’t recall if Derri had mentioned how many men his uncle was traveling with, but it didn’t matter. Zander knew how his uncle worked. And this suited Zander perfectly. Murray would wait for the dirty work to be done before he made his entrance.
So, Zander gave his uncle what he expected…dirty work.
The men passed by his position in a single file.
He smiled.
“Fuck, why is it so dark in here?” one of them murmured.
“Shut the hell up,” someone else responded in a harsh whisper. “Everybody spread out, search this place top to bottom. That marshal guy has to be in here somewhere. And find me some goddamn light!”
Each man—seven in total—went off in a different direction, and Zander waited patiently. He was used to waiting. Been a while since he’d been back in this head space, but it was as easy as slipping on a familiar and comfortable pair of socks.
Heartbeat steady. Breaths even. Feet planted.
One of the men sidled up to his hiding spot, a hand swiping against the wall…in search of a light switch, maybe? His hand swept over Zander’s chest.
The guy froze.
Zander didn’t. He grabbed him by the face, palm over his mouth to muffle any sound as he brought the hand holding the gun up and double-tapped the trigger. Two bullets to the forehead. The guy’s body jerked backward, but Zander grabbed him by the front of his shirt, keeping his body from falling and making a sound.
A surefire way to give away his position and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
He lowered the dead man to the floor at his feet, dragging his body into the alcove Zander had been hiding in, away from view.
Then he moved.
One down, six more to go.
He tracked each man on silent feet. Lucky for him those fuckers kept bumping into each other and the other obstacles in their way, giving away their positions. With each kill, he dragged the body into a corner and moved on to the next.
“Where’s Phil?” someone asked. “Phil, where the fuck you at? Gary?”
Zander grinned, sidling up to the speaker’s back. “Right here,” he whispered in the guy’s ear, and when the idiot spun around, Zander gave him the same special treatment he’d given the others before him.
Double tap to the forehead.
Six down, one more to go.
The last one was inside the office, and he only knew that because there was the faintest light bobbing around in there. Appeared as if he’d found light after all.
He crossed the room, standing at the open office door, listening to the guy curse up a blue streak. “Place is fucking empty,” he muttered to himself. “Somebody gave the boss faulty intel. Goddamn it.”
The news would send Murray into a rage. He didn’t like being played and more often than not, it would be his men who’d bear the brunt of his anger and frustration.
“Alright, let’s get the hell outta here.” The guy walked out of the office then stopped abruptly. “Where the fuck is everyone?”
“Dead,” Zander helpfully supplied from the shadows. He spun the other man around with a hand on the back of his neck and put two bullets in him. This time, Zander stepped back and allowed the body to crash to the floor. Wasn’t anyone around to hear the noise anyway.
Then he took a deep breath.
He’d left the life, but not because he’d fallen out of love or disillusioned with it. He’d actually liked what he did until he’d found himself questioning how he’d ended up there in the first place. But he was fucking good at killing, always had been. And tonight, he’d use that to find out the truth about his family’s death.
And protect the men he was…
Not the time to think about that.
