Street Game
Page 32
Paul shrugged. “It’s possible. Depending.”
“Well.” Ethan’s hand slid across the table toward the twenties. “I got carried away.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Kane said. “You placed a bet, you’re in.”
“You’re so harsh,” Ethan complained.
“Who ate all the lasagna?” Marc demanded. “I’m supposed to go relieve Gideon and there’s nothing left.” He turned his head toward the covered plate. “Unless . . .”
“Don’t even think about it,” Mack warned. “Anyone touching Jaimie’s food loses their hand.”
Marc snatched his hand out of harm’s way and put it behind his back. “It’s cold out there on the roof tonight.” He grinned at Mack. “Those two idiots in the boat are freezing their butts off and Gideon says they aren’t happy.”
“Well, don’t get your head shot off making fun of them,” Mack cautioned as Marc sauntered out. He shoved his chair back and added to the others, “Let’s get this kitchen clean and talk a little shop while we’re waiting.”
The men picked up their plates. Paul hesitated and when no one looked at him, he followed suit. As he approached the sink, his gaze touched briefly on the wooden block of knives and slid away.
“Don’t,” Mack warned wearily. “I’d hate to have to kill someone I like.”
Paul blinked. “You don’t like me. None of you do.”
“Where’d you get a dumb idea like that?” Mack asked.
“I think you all made it obvious you didn’t want me on the team.”
Mack shrugged. “What’s that got to do with liking you?”
Ethan took the dirty plate out of Paul’s hands and rinsed it off. “You’re a little sensitive, Paul. We’ve been a team for a couple of years now. We grew up together.
Each of us knows how the other thinks. We know what any one of us will do in a given situation. That gives us an edge in combat. It’s nothing personal.”
“I keep my boys alive, Paul. That’s my job. I do what’s best for them,” Mack said.
“How do you know whether I’m best or not?” For the first time bitterness crept in.
“Well, with the bullshit jacket Sergeant Major provided, of course I don’t. That and you were spying on us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know. And you’re not very good, are you?”
“How would you know?”
“You got caught.”
Ethan nudged him with a good-natured smile. “He’s got you there, Paul.”
“You don’t have anything at all on me. I don’t have a clue why you suddenly put me under guard and confiscated my laptop.”
“You were pretty hostile,” Brian pointed out. “Had a lot to hide or what’s the big deal?”
“It’s my private laptop. I don’t want anyone going through it. You must have things on your computer you don’t want to share.”
Marc feigned puzzlement. “Just my p**n , and everyone knows I’m a star in those videos. It’s not like the world can’t see me.”
A snicker, a few hoots, and snorts of derision greeted his claim.
The intercom buzzed. “Jaimie wants one of her drinks, Mack,” Javier said. “And I could use some coffee.”
Ethan whooped. “They’re getting frustrated.”
“They’re getting serious,” Mack corrected. “You should know by now, Ethan, Jaimie only drinks caffeine when she means business. Gideon’s coming in. He’ll give us the rundown on our favorite terrorists and we can plan out a little surprise.”
“I want to be the gun runner this time,” Jacob volunteered. “Kane always gets that part.”
“He looks mean and you don’t,” Mack said as he put on the coffee. “In any case, no one can impersonate Madigan, he’s too well-known. And he’s always in on a deal.
There’s never been a time that he didn’t personally make the exchange. We can’t pass anyone off as Madigan. We can get inside, though, and replace the guards. I don’t think, once they’ve determined the guns are being stored there, that they’ll wait for Madigan to get out of the hospital. More likely they’ll kill everyone and just take them. Saves them money.”
Kane sank into an overstuffed chair in the living room before anyone else could grab it, his fingers forming a steeple as he regarded the other men gathering around.
He waited pointedly for Paul.
“You including me in this?” Paul asked, his tone edged with belligerence.
“I don’t think you’re Doomsday,” Kane said. “Sheesh, kid. If you’re that kind of spy, we’d kill you and be done with it. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. And if you’re clean, Mack’s not going to give you a vacation just because your feelings are hurt.” He leaned forward and gestured until Paul moved close. Kane lowered his voice to an over-loud whisper. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. The boss isn’t a particularly sensitive or nice man.”
“That isn’t exactly a secret,” Paul said.
Mack slammed the coffeepot onto the tray with unnecessary force. “But he does have excellent hearing.”
The men burst out laughing. Ethan slapped Paul on the back and then beat the kid to the next most comfortable chair.
“Jaimie doesn’t have a lot of furniture,” Lucas complained. “I see you bought a couple of beds. Did it occur to you that when we’re hanging out here we’ll need chairs?” He swung a kitchen chair around and straddled it.
“I discourage company every way I can,” Mack said.
Lucas looked up at him. “You and Jaimie moving in together, boss?”
Mack stared him down. “What do you think?”
“That I’d better keep my mouth shut,” Lucas muttered.
“Good plan.” Mack took the chair across from Kane, looking up as Gideon came in. He frowned. “You look tired. You aren’t sleeping again.”
Gideon shrugged. “I’m fine. Getting headaches again, Mack.” He washed his hands at the sink and looked around. “You know, I’m not all that hungry. I might lie down while I brief you. Do you mind?”
You need a medic? Mack demanded with quick concern. Don’t lie to me, Gideon.
There was a long pause and it took every ounce of self-discipline for Mack to keep from looking at him, and possibly tipping off the others—or Paul—to their private conversation.
“Use Kane’s bed,” Mack said aloud. “It will be easier for you to talk.”
Marc was the only one of them with real healing and medic abilities and right now, he’d gone out on the roof to keep an eye on their company. But there was Spagnola. The man was pararescue and he obviously had skills, psychic healing skills.
I’ll be fine, Mack, Gideon assured.
Any bleeding? Mack held his breath.
A nosebleed. Nothing serious.
Around him the men joked good-naturedly with one another, but Mack could only hear the warning alarm going off in his mind. A nosebleed—nothing serious. It was another complication. He needed Gideon, but the man had to be seen by a doctor and immediately.
“We’ve got two men sitting out in a fishing boat. Neither is very happy. One keeps puking. They’re radioing our two on land. Right now they’re sniffing around the warehouses, including this one, so I’m fairly sure they aren’t certain of the exact location of the guns. But sooner or later, one of the guards is going to go home and someone else will take their place. There’s no mistaking a Madigan man. They wear that cute little tattoo on the inside of their arms, trying to be all scary.”
“They don’t get one of those tattoos without first killing a Madigan enemy,” Mack said.
“They like to brag,” Kane said.
“And they strut around the docks. A couple of Madigan’s men were in the pub down the street and the local fishermen never even looked at them. It takes practice to keep your eyes off someone like that,” Lucas said. “Practice and fear. And these fishermen are tough. When I went up to the bar, one of the older fishermen gestured for me to sit with him. He made sure I was facing away from the bar and the two Madigan men. He didn’t say anything to warn me off, but he was definitely trying to convey to the newbie in the neighborhood that you don’t ‘see’ those men.”
“Gideon, did you ID any of the Doomsday team?”
“Oh, yeah. We got one of the heavy hitters running the show. Armando Shepherd.
Believe me, boss, he’s not the one in the boat.”
“Why do they all call you ‘boss’ and not ‘Top’?” Paul asked.
“He’s been our boss a long time,” Kane said. “It’s a nickname more than a title.
But if the brass is around, or we’re running a mission, most of the time we call him
‘Top.’ ”
Mack sent them both a quelling look as he got up to pour a large amount of coffee into a container to put it in the refrigerator. He left the rest on the warmer and returned to his chair. “Now that we managed to settle that important issue, did you ID anyone else?”
“Armando always travels with his psycho buddy, Ramon Estes. The two are homegrown, by the way. Grew up in New York City. Both were Marines. Before that they terrorized their neighborhood until things got so hot they joined the service.”
Gideon sounded so tired Mack went over to the bed there in the shadows and carefully inspected him for tell-tale signs of bleeding. You take anything for the pain?
Gideon shook his head. Wanted my head clear to report.
Mack bit back a curse as he dropped a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “You’re taking something now. Kane. We need the medic bag.”
A hush immediately fell over the group. They’d grown up together and Gideon was immensely popular with them all. He had a way of bringing calm to any situation.
He tended to be quiet, but was one they always counted on, a good man to have at one’s back.
“You don’t wait next time,” Mack said. “And that’s an order.” There was no pretending it wouldn’t happen again; they all dealt with it. And if he was right, and their psychic talents were growing with use, or with whatever else Whitney had done to them to accelerate it, so were the negative side effects. Mack brushed at the lines of fatigue etched into Gideon’s face.
“I’m okay, boss. Just need to sleep. Can’t seem to these days.”
Lucas had mentioned in passing to Mack that Gideon wasn’t sleeping. He should have followed up on it. Gideon often prowled the apartment at night when he wasn’t on guard duty, and during the day he wasn’t taking his usual catnaps.
His heart beat too fast, and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He recognized it as fear. Mack had always controlled every situation through careful planning, and yet now he had no way of ensuring his men were safe. He took every precaution on a mission, but their health, the consequences of their psychic abilities, was beyond his control. It seemed the stronger the gift, the greater the repercussions.
Kane dropped a hand on his shoulder as he placed the medic bag on the bed beside Gideon. “We all made the decision, Mack,” he said quietly.
Mack let out his breath. He knew none of them blamed him, and maybe some of them would have done it anyway without his endorsement, but they had been following him since they were kids and he had known they’d follow him this time.
Kane’s statement didn’t let him off the hook, though he appreciated it.
Kane prepared a shot. “I’m going to get you to sleep, Gideon. Just lay it down for a while. No dreaming. Just go out and let your mind and body rest.”
“Well.” Ethan’s hand slid across the table toward the twenties. “I got carried away.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Kane said. “You placed a bet, you’re in.”
“You’re so harsh,” Ethan complained.
“Who ate all the lasagna?” Marc demanded. “I’m supposed to go relieve Gideon and there’s nothing left.” He turned his head toward the covered plate. “Unless . . .”
“Don’t even think about it,” Mack warned. “Anyone touching Jaimie’s food loses their hand.”
Marc snatched his hand out of harm’s way and put it behind his back. “It’s cold out there on the roof tonight.” He grinned at Mack. “Those two idiots in the boat are freezing their butts off and Gideon says they aren’t happy.”
“Well, don’t get your head shot off making fun of them,” Mack cautioned as Marc sauntered out. He shoved his chair back and added to the others, “Let’s get this kitchen clean and talk a little shop while we’re waiting.”
The men picked up their plates. Paul hesitated and when no one looked at him, he followed suit. As he approached the sink, his gaze touched briefly on the wooden block of knives and slid away.
“Don’t,” Mack warned wearily. “I’d hate to have to kill someone I like.”
Paul blinked. “You don’t like me. None of you do.”
“Where’d you get a dumb idea like that?” Mack asked.
“I think you all made it obvious you didn’t want me on the team.”
Mack shrugged. “What’s that got to do with liking you?”
Ethan took the dirty plate out of Paul’s hands and rinsed it off. “You’re a little sensitive, Paul. We’ve been a team for a couple of years now. We grew up together.
Each of us knows how the other thinks. We know what any one of us will do in a given situation. That gives us an edge in combat. It’s nothing personal.”
“I keep my boys alive, Paul. That’s my job. I do what’s best for them,” Mack said.
“How do you know whether I’m best or not?” For the first time bitterness crept in.
“Well, with the bullshit jacket Sergeant Major provided, of course I don’t. That and you were spying on us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know. And you’re not very good, are you?”
“How would you know?”
“You got caught.”
Ethan nudged him with a good-natured smile. “He’s got you there, Paul.”
“You don’t have anything at all on me. I don’t have a clue why you suddenly put me under guard and confiscated my laptop.”
“You were pretty hostile,” Brian pointed out. “Had a lot to hide or what’s the big deal?”
“It’s my private laptop. I don’t want anyone going through it. You must have things on your computer you don’t want to share.”
Marc feigned puzzlement. “Just my p**n , and everyone knows I’m a star in those videos. It’s not like the world can’t see me.”
A snicker, a few hoots, and snorts of derision greeted his claim.
The intercom buzzed. “Jaimie wants one of her drinks, Mack,” Javier said. “And I could use some coffee.”
Ethan whooped. “They’re getting frustrated.”
“They’re getting serious,” Mack corrected. “You should know by now, Ethan, Jaimie only drinks caffeine when she means business. Gideon’s coming in. He’ll give us the rundown on our favorite terrorists and we can plan out a little surprise.”
“I want to be the gun runner this time,” Jacob volunteered. “Kane always gets that part.”
“He looks mean and you don’t,” Mack said as he put on the coffee. “In any case, no one can impersonate Madigan, he’s too well-known. And he’s always in on a deal.
There’s never been a time that he didn’t personally make the exchange. We can’t pass anyone off as Madigan. We can get inside, though, and replace the guards. I don’t think, once they’ve determined the guns are being stored there, that they’ll wait for Madigan to get out of the hospital. More likely they’ll kill everyone and just take them. Saves them money.”
Kane sank into an overstuffed chair in the living room before anyone else could grab it, his fingers forming a steeple as he regarded the other men gathering around.
He waited pointedly for Paul.
“You including me in this?” Paul asked, his tone edged with belligerence.
“I don’t think you’re Doomsday,” Kane said. “Sheesh, kid. If you’re that kind of spy, we’d kill you and be done with it. You aren’t exactly going anywhere. And if you’re clean, Mack’s not going to give you a vacation just because your feelings are hurt.” He leaned forward and gestured until Paul moved close. Kane lowered his voice to an over-loud whisper. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. The boss isn’t a particularly sensitive or nice man.”
“That isn’t exactly a secret,” Paul said.
Mack slammed the coffeepot onto the tray with unnecessary force. “But he does have excellent hearing.”
The men burst out laughing. Ethan slapped Paul on the back and then beat the kid to the next most comfortable chair.
“Jaimie doesn’t have a lot of furniture,” Lucas complained. “I see you bought a couple of beds. Did it occur to you that when we’re hanging out here we’ll need chairs?” He swung a kitchen chair around and straddled it.
“I discourage company every way I can,” Mack said.
Lucas looked up at him. “You and Jaimie moving in together, boss?”
Mack stared him down. “What do you think?”
“That I’d better keep my mouth shut,” Lucas muttered.
“Good plan.” Mack took the chair across from Kane, looking up as Gideon came in. He frowned. “You look tired. You aren’t sleeping again.”
Gideon shrugged. “I’m fine. Getting headaches again, Mack.” He washed his hands at the sink and looked around. “You know, I’m not all that hungry. I might lie down while I brief you. Do you mind?”
You need a medic? Mack demanded with quick concern. Don’t lie to me, Gideon.
There was a long pause and it took every ounce of self-discipline for Mack to keep from looking at him, and possibly tipping off the others—or Paul—to their private conversation.
“Use Kane’s bed,” Mack said aloud. “It will be easier for you to talk.”
Marc was the only one of them with real healing and medic abilities and right now, he’d gone out on the roof to keep an eye on their company. But there was Spagnola. The man was pararescue and he obviously had skills, psychic healing skills.
I’ll be fine, Mack, Gideon assured.
Any bleeding? Mack held his breath.
A nosebleed. Nothing serious.
Around him the men joked good-naturedly with one another, but Mack could only hear the warning alarm going off in his mind. A nosebleed—nothing serious. It was another complication. He needed Gideon, but the man had to be seen by a doctor and immediately.
“We’ve got two men sitting out in a fishing boat. Neither is very happy. One keeps puking. They’re radioing our two on land. Right now they’re sniffing around the warehouses, including this one, so I’m fairly sure they aren’t certain of the exact location of the guns. But sooner or later, one of the guards is going to go home and someone else will take their place. There’s no mistaking a Madigan man. They wear that cute little tattoo on the inside of their arms, trying to be all scary.”
“They don’t get one of those tattoos without first killing a Madigan enemy,” Mack said.
“They like to brag,” Kane said.
“And they strut around the docks. A couple of Madigan’s men were in the pub down the street and the local fishermen never even looked at them. It takes practice to keep your eyes off someone like that,” Lucas said. “Practice and fear. And these fishermen are tough. When I went up to the bar, one of the older fishermen gestured for me to sit with him. He made sure I was facing away from the bar and the two Madigan men. He didn’t say anything to warn me off, but he was definitely trying to convey to the newbie in the neighborhood that you don’t ‘see’ those men.”
“Gideon, did you ID any of the Doomsday team?”
“Oh, yeah. We got one of the heavy hitters running the show. Armando Shepherd.
Believe me, boss, he’s not the one in the boat.”
“Why do they all call you ‘boss’ and not ‘Top’?” Paul asked.
“He’s been our boss a long time,” Kane said. “It’s a nickname more than a title.
But if the brass is around, or we’re running a mission, most of the time we call him
‘Top.’ ”
Mack sent them both a quelling look as he got up to pour a large amount of coffee into a container to put it in the refrigerator. He left the rest on the warmer and returned to his chair. “Now that we managed to settle that important issue, did you ID anyone else?”
“Armando always travels with his psycho buddy, Ramon Estes. The two are homegrown, by the way. Grew up in New York City. Both were Marines. Before that they terrorized their neighborhood until things got so hot they joined the service.”
Gideon sounded so tired Mack went over to the bed there in the shadows and carefully inspected him for tell-tale signs of bleeding. You take anything for the pain?
Gideon shook his head. Wanted my head clear to report.
Mack bit back a curse as he dropped a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “You’re taking something now. Kane. We need the medic bag.”
A hush immediately fell over the group. They’d grown up together and Gideon was immensely popular with them all. He had a way of bringing calm to any situation.
He tended to be quiet, but was one they always counted on, a good man to have at one’s back.
“You don’t wait next time,” Mack said. “And that’s an order.” There was no pretending it wouldn’t happen again; they all dealt with it. And if he was right, and their psychic talents were growing with use, or with whatever else Whitney had done to them to accelerate it, so were the negative side effects. Mack brushed at the lines of fatigue etched into Gideon’s face.
“I’m okay, boss. Just need to sleep. Can’t seem to these days.”
Lucas had mentioned in passing to Mack that Gideon wasn’t sleeping. He should have followed up on it. Gideon often prowled the apartment at night when he wasn’t on guard duty, and during the day he wasn’t taking his usual catnaps.
His heart beat too fast, and there was a bad taste in his mouth. He recognized it as fear. Mack had always controlled every situation through careful planning, and yet now he had no way of ensuring his men were safe. He took every precaution on a mission, but their health, the consequences of their psychic abilities, was beyond his control. It seemed the stronger the gift, the greater the repercussions.
Kane dropped a hand on his shoulder as he placed the medic bag on the bed beside Gideon. “We all made the decision, Mack,” he said quietly.
Mack let out his breath. He knew none of them blamed him, and maybe some of them would have done it anyway without his endorsement, but they had been following him since they were kids and he had known they’d follow him this time.
Kane’s statement didn’t let him off the hook, though he appreciated it.
Kane prepared a shot. “I’m going to get you to sleep, Gideon. Just lay it down for a while. No dreaming. Just go out and let your mind and body rest.”
