Accidental Evils (The Pagano Brothers Book 3) by Susan Fanetti

Author:Susan Fanetti [Fanetti, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-05T18:30:00+00:00

~oOo~

Stealth, speed, and accuracy.

His prediction about what the Bondaruks and Zelenkos meant to do—ambush the Paganos on their way out of the meet—had to be accurate. His prediction about where that team of guards decked out in paramilitary gear would be located had to be accurate. His prediction about when the snipers would shoot had to be accurate. And he had to get into the building and take all six down, alone, one at a time, without drawing any attention. Time it to their check-ins. Kill six men ranged across a whole building and beyond, and do it so none of the Ukrainians in that meeting on the second floor knew there was trouble.

Today, he would double his kill count.

He had a plan and had mapped it out in his head. His day job as a scheduler for Pagano Brothers Shipping—where it was his responsibility to put cargo, route, and driver together to meet particular delivery dates, to understand the patterns of traffic and weather and how they would affect the shipment, and to sometimes arrange illicit shipments to travel with the straight goods—had built up a muscle in his mind for seeing complex patterns and keeping track of all the pieces, where they were and where they should go.

There was a game he and his sisters had played as kids: Concentration. They’d had it as a board game and a video game both. He hadn’t been all that good at it back then; Kiki was the memory queen and had liked all those sorts of games, the kind you won by remembering where things were. But now, Tony would absolutely kill at Concentration.

So when he crouch-ran to the service entrance, holding his gear bag like a baby so it wouldn’t swing and bump into anything, Tony had the full picture of his plan rolling in his head like a movie. He was making a guess about when each man would check in, but it was an educated one. He’d watched the snipers on the rooftop for a while, even while they’d only been setting up and chilling out, waiting for their signal, and he’d seen the pattern of their check-ins. Every seven minutes.

That meant he had seven minutes to get all four men in the building down, then get into position and take out the snipers before Donnie, Angie, and the others came through the front door.

He had to be perfectly accurate on little more than guesses—some educated, some entirely intuitive.

A check of his watch showed him he had twenty-two seconds to wait before he went through the door at his side. Still in his crouch, he leaned against the wall a bit and flexed his fingers around the hunting knife in his hand. The others wore suits, befitting professional men, but Tony was dressed like an assassin—black pants, a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, black gloves, black crepe-soled shoes. His Beretta was holstered at his hip, and a little Sig was on his ankle, but shit would be very wrong if he needed either of those.

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