somewhere off to his right and Javier could smell the distinct odor of marijuana. Kids, he guessed, finding a place to hang out and stay warm when they had nowhere else to go. He remembered those days, when the wind blew cool and cruel and he would look up at the windows mocking him with warmth and laughter, the days when his world was so stark and hungry and he was utterly alone. He’d thrown a few rocks in those days, angry and starving for both food and affection, until Mack had found a couple of street bullies stalking him and intervened. He hadn’t told Mack the toughs would have lost the battle. He didn’t want to take chances that he wouldn’t fit in and Mack would throw him back.
He’d stayed quiet and looked as young and as nerdy as he could. He had better than 20/20 vision, yet he often hid his dark eyes behind thick clear lenses. He had been smarter than just about anyone until he met Mack. The man had changed his life. Brought him purpose and definitely saved him from a life of crime. He felt a smile coming on. He got to do all the things he wanted to do, but now they were legal. Of course, Mack kept a close rein on him. Just as well. Sometimes he went totally berserk and didn’t have a lick of sense. Mack was always the voice of reason and things like this-this assignment, being chosen to guard Jaimie-were signs of respect and just made him love Mack all the more.
He was coming up to the open area. Jaimie had picked her location carefully. Her warehouse could be approached from water on one side or by land on three sides. Two of the three sides were as open as they could get. Anyone coming at her would have to expose themselves. She could sit up in her tower and pick them off one at a time-if that was Jaimie’s way, which they all knew it wasn’t. She would have an escape route. More than one. Jaimie was the biggest pacifist he knew. What she saw-and loved-in all of them, he never knew. They were all fighters, but like Mack, Jaimie was family, and he’d go to hell and back for family. He stayed very still, scanning the area, his gaze quartering from rooftops to windows and then sweeping along the open sidewalk. Two men rounded the corner and paused to light cigarettes, hands shielding the flames, hiding their faces in the brief flare of light, but not before he caught a glimpse of their eyes. They were dressed in casual fishermen gear, but two things caught his attention. Their boots and their eyes. They were doing the same thorough scanning of the area, and he saw them look upward several times, toward that third floor where Jaimie Fielding was probably dropping off to sleep.
Mack swore softly.
Grinning, with eyes on the two men studying Jaimie’s building, Javier quickly turned his jacket inside out. The black combat jacket now looked like a kid’s jacket, complete with hood. He dragged the thick black-rimmed glasses from his pocket and set them on his nose. He spun his MP7 with its silencer to lie under his arm where he had easy access, and drew a skateboard and ball cap from his small duffel bag. If someone stopped him, the bag wouldn’t stand up to a thorough examination, but he wasn’t taking prisoners.
Javier shoved the hat backward on his head, dropped the board to the walkway, and began to kick-push his skateboard down the sidewalk. Just before he emerged from the shadows he half turned toward the sound of music and raised one hand.
“Later!” He shoved with one foot and took the board out into the open, directly in a path to intercept the two men.
He glanced up as if seeing them for the first time and deliberately did a perfect varial flip, turning the board 180 degrees, and then landed back on the board and kept going. It was a fairly easy trick, but showy. The men turned toward him, but he could see they were really watching Jaimie’s building and looking up at the rooftops, buying his kid act.
As he approached the two men, they visibly went on alert, one sliding his hand inside his coat. “Get out of here, kid,” the one with the gun growled. The other spat on the ground.
Javier did what any self-respecting teen would do. He flashed a cocky grin, pushed hard with his foot, sliding back in preparation for a back-side heel flip. He crouched down, popped the board up, kicking out his heel and starting a 180 turn, but he failed to land it, stumbling off the board and almost plowing right into the two men. He spread his arms for balance. The skateboard flew into the air, striking the first man right in the center of his chest, driving him backward. The second man cursed as Javier’s body slammed into him. The tiny sliver of steel in the center of Javier’s palm slammed deep into the jugular vein. The man coughed, reaching up toward his throat as Javier’s tackle carried them both toward the ground. Javier turned as he fell, flipping his knife underhanded at the second man as he half rose. The blade buried to the hilt in the man’s throat. He moved fast, even as the first man choked and gagged, already dying. Dragging the two bodies back into the shadows, he moved quickly across the open space, using the skateboard for speed.
Jamming his finger on the button that rang her doorbell, he prayed Jaimie would buzz him through without any questions.
“Come on, Jaimie, let me in,” Javier demanded, trying not to feel the itch between his shoulder blades where a big bull’s-eye seemed to be painted on his back. The locks disengaged and he shoved the door open and all but fell inside, dragging his MP7 free as he crouched low and crawled his way to the windows to peer outside. She’d let him in too fast-she’d known he was coming. Jaimie always knew.
Javier wired the doors and windows as quickly as he could
Javier knew how nerve-wracking a thorough sweep was, moving through enemy territory with civilians in the battlefield. He gave a silent salute toward his team and hurried to intercept Jaimie. “I’m coming up to you, Jaimie. Give me a couple of minutes.”
“Javier? What are you doing? Is Mack okay? Did things go wrong?” There was anxiety in her voice. The lights suddenly blazed through the room. He realized immediately she thought he was coming to tell her Mack was hurt.
“No, no, babe, Mack’s fine. Everyone’s good. Don’t turn on the lights. Get them off.”
There was a heartbeat of silence and the lights went off again, plunging the first story into darkness. He heard rustling as she sank down at the top of the stairs.
“Javier?”
There was the smallest of quivers in her voice and he felt a reaction in the pit of his stomach. Either of the girls could do that to any of them. Jaimie and Rhianna. The family revolved around the two girls. He didn’t want to think about Rhianna, off doing God knew what undercover in some foreign country.
“For a minute I thought…” She trailed off, sounding very vulnerable.
“I know. He’s fine. Everyone is. Just checking on you. You know how Mack worries.”
“Do I?” Jaimie sounded sad now. “I haven’t heard from him for two years. I don’t think he worries all that much, Javier. But then, I’m all grown up and maybe don’t need it anymore.”
Working fast in the dark, he strung more explosives along the windows, wrapping the warehouse so that anyone trying to get in was going to have a nasty surprise. “Go on upstairs and make us a cup of tea. I’ll be right there,” Javier suggested.
