The cell phone on the dashboard beeps once, then twice, but Agent Pierce’s attention is focused on the house at the end of the dimly lit street. He stares at the brick home with tan shutters, a manicured front lawn, and a distressed fence wrapping around the backyard, located at the opposite end of the street. The surrounding homes sit in close proximity to one another, each fence touching the next. An overcast night sky hides the black SUV, but that will no longer be the case by morning. Doesn’t really matter since we’ll be moving in long before then, Pierce reminds himself.
The phone beeps again.
“He’s not going to appreciate being ignored,” Pierce’s partner, Agent Sorenson, points out with a smirk.
Pierce shoots him a glare, stretching his cramped legs. “For all he knows, we could be in the house already.”
After Pierce and Sorenson drove around Colorado for hours, the agency had gotten a tip from an unknown party, advising the agents to head for Texas, where they were ordered to stay put and stake it out. Pierce didn’t mind taking orders—it was part of the job—but he was irritated with this particular mission. He was no one’s errand boy, and he was no amateur who brought in little girls. The direction the agency was heading in was none of his business, though, so he would do what he was told and not make a fuss about it . . . provided he got his paycheck.
“He knows we wouldn’t deviate from our orders, even if we aren’t ones to sit like pansy ducks,” Sorenson grumbles, adjusting his seat to recline.
Pierce only grunts in response. He could sit for days and not be bothered, but the damn suit the agency requires them to wear lately doesn’t breathe well. Besides, he’d much rather be staked out on a roof with a long-range rifle.
When the phone beeps again, he finally picks it up, holding it to his ear. “Agent Pierce,” he answers.
“Is there a problem, Agent?” the man on the other end snaps.
“No, sir,” he answers, keeping his gaze forward in an attempt to ignore Sorenson’s enormous frame shaking with silent laughter, causing the whole vehicle to rock.
“What is your observation then?” the man asks.
Pierce clears his throat. “The location is confirmed; the contact gave you the correct coordinates. We got a little closer earlier, saw Cadmar come out and the girls moving around inside. We can move in now if you give us the go.”
“Stay put and observe for tonight. Send the expendables in first thing in the morning; I want to know what the girls are capable of. The wife informed us there might be another girl we were unaware of. I want verification. Once you have it, you know how to proceed. I want Cadmar Morros out of the picture, copy?”
“Good. I expect an update the instant the mission is complete.”
The line goes dead and Pierce tosses the phone on the dashboard.
“What’s the verdict?” Sorenson asks.
“He wants Agent Morros taken out for sure,” Pierce tells him, staring at the house, watching shadows move behind the front window.
“That should be fun. Glad we got the okay there.” Sorenson smirks, rubbing his hands together when Pierce glances at him.
Pierce only grunts again. When they were ordered to hunt Cadmar and his daughters down, no one was sure what should be done with Cadmar. The head of the agency scrambled around when they caught wind of Agent Morros’ daughter not completing her mission to take out the chemist. They sent one of their lapdogs to take care of her, even though Cadmar tried to explain away the girl’s insubordination. Pierce wasn’t informed of what happened after that, only given orders to head to the family’s home in Colorado to bring everyone in.
They only found Scarlet and two of the girls, so they began the hunt, which brought them here. With the decision on what to do with Cadmar finally made, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He didn’t know Cadmar personally, but knew of him; everyone in any agency knew of him. Pierce wasn’t afraid of facing him, but he had a certain respect for the man, and being the one tasked to kill the legend wasn’t going to be his favorite assignment. He could do it—he would do it—and the challenge would definitely make it interesting. Though deep in his mind, the thought of every scenario in which he might be able to avoid killing Agent Morros.
Sorenson shifts again, sighing loudly. “We heading in once it’s quiet then?”
“No.” Pierce cuts his head once to the side. “We move in the morning, but we’ll send the dogs first to scout it out, get them distracted.”
“All right,” Sorenson drawls. “I’m getting some shuteye then. Wake me if they do anything interesting.”
Pierce nods once then settles in for a long night.