So did his pain level.
The last thing Rurik wanted to admit was defeat or the fact Garth had been right to be concerned about him and his capabilities.
For now, he’d just continue to stretch his legs as he worked his hand, doing his best to figure out why he’d felt the need to be here.
He’d already unloaded the gear as well as supplies from the SUV into the safe house, all the while ignoring the bite of pain in his back and shoulder, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt. He’d pushed through pain in his life before. This was nothing new. He’d do the job the mission required of him.
The safe house Auberi had secured was older and somewhat run-down but would do the trick. The garage Rurik had pulled the SUV up to sat back behind the home a decent distance and he was pretty sure if he dared open the double doors, they’d fall off.
Since he’d only seen a few homes in the neighborhood with actual driveways, let alone any garage to speak of, he wasn’t about to complain too much.
Parking on the street and unloading an SUV full of surveillance equipment during the day would have drawn notice.
A garden hose attached to an outdoor spigot was draped across the long, single-car driveway. He gave himself another ten minutes before he was winding it up and placing it on the hook attached to the old home. He wasn’t one who liked things to be disorganized. From the look of the backyard, no one had bothered with upkeep on the place.
The house he was supposed to be watching was directly across the street. He hoped the hardwood trees that lined the street on both sides obscured any clear line of sight the occupants might have of him currently.
It was mid-morning, and the neighborhood was dead still, making him wonder if most of the older homes were renovated and rented out to college students—most of whom were probably at school or sleeping in as that age group tended to do.
It would make sense with the neighborhood’s proximity to the university.
Many of the older homes looked to have been converted into apartments or duplexes at some point. Thankfully, the one Auberi had secured was a single-family one. Rurik couldn’t even begin to imagine the headache keeping an eye on Bill and Gus while sharing walls with civilians would entail.
Auberi had finished briefing Rurik on the mission before he’d left. He hadn’t been joking. Details were incredibly sketchy at best. While Auberi had claimed the particulars were being gathered and the files would be ready for Rurik to look over prior to departing, that hadn’t been the case.
He’d been too anxious to get away from doctors and therapists to wait around. On his way out of the medical facility, Miranda had followed through on assigning him homework all while handing him more tension balls.
The ball he was holding was hard to miss, seeing as how it was bright blue. The other one that he’d brought along on the mission was equally as bright, but pink.
The start of a smile touched the edge of his lips as he thought about where the pink ball was currently. Someplace it could do the most good. “Ah, blissful peace and quiet.”
Bill had been especially trying on the drive in. Rurik had been close to laying waste to the little shit somewhere around the thirty-minute mark. That was why he’d gone ahead and found a way to silence Bill, at least for now, in a way that wasn’t hurting him. It wouldn’t last forever, but it had given Rurik some quiet time. And that was priceless.
At least Gus had been fairly easy to deal with so far on the trip.
Rurik had let him sit up front on the ride and had even allowed the man to bring the mannequin head he was obsessed with. Rurik wasn’t sure how Gus had come by the thing, or why he insisted on taking it with him wherever he went, but it had become something of a permanent fixture and was never far from him.
At some point, someone had decided to put the head within an American football helmet, managing to up its creepy factor. If it hadn’t worked wonders to keep Gus happy and, more importantly, silent, Rurik would have tossed the thing out the window around the same time he’d chucked Bill’s cell phone out of the SUV.
Bill calling Rurik’s cell nonstop from the backseat of the SUV had proved to be more than Rurik’s nerves could handle. The first time the ring had blasted through the sound system, Rurik had hit the hands-free answer button, mostly by mistake, only to hear Bill’s voice boom through the SUV. The little shit had proceeded to call Rurik every Russian-themed nickname he could think of before burping crudely.
If PSI didn’t award him a medal for dealing with Bill, Rurik was going to have words with the brass.
With a sigh, he turned and opened the back hatch of the SUV. There, on the floor of the cargo bay, was Bill, hog-tied with a pink stress ball shoved in his mouth. A piece of tape secured the ball in place. Bill wiggled, causing his already snug shirt to lift and a button to pop clean off the vest he was wearing. A small bit of lint fell out of the man’s hairy belly button.
I am in hell.
Bill glared at Rurik and mumbled something through the ball in his mouth.
With a half-smile, Rurik undid the tape, lifting a portion of fake white beard as he did. “Are you going to stop acting like a small child?”
Bill grunted and spat the ball at Rurik. It fell short of its target, landing
