Page 77 of Shane
“I trust Tuesday, but yeah,” Shane said, “I’d appreciate you staying with her. She’s been through enough.”
A cocky spark danced inside Heston’s dark eyes. “No problem, amigo. I’d pick standing guard over a pretty woman over combat any day.”
Shane nodded his agreement. “Good, let’s wake this troll up.”
“My pleasure.” Adeptly, Heston worked the controls, lifting the helo up from the hardpacked Arkansas ground like a dragonfly flitting off a lily pad.
“’Bout damned time,” Everlee grumbled.
Shane turned around as far as he could and gave her a thumbs-up.
“I want a pistol,” Tuesday said quietly. “You’re not leaving me behind like some stupid Disney princess. I’m going in with you guys, and I want to be armed.”
The silence in the chopper was damned loud. And awkward. Shane twisted within his safety harness far enough around to look into her face. Nothing but determination stared back at him.
Heston didn’t miss a beat. “Works for me,” he replied easily, still looking straight ahead. “You’re not trained for this kind of infil though, ma’am. It’ll be dangerous. She’s a twisted piece of work but hell yeah, you need a pistol. I’ll load it for you and teach you how to shoot it. But it’d still be safer for us if you stayed behind. I’d be glad to stay with you.”
“I know how to defend myself,” she replied crisply, “and I said I’m going in with you guys. If I can face down a mother polar bear defending her two cubs, I can face this bitch and her goons. Besides, that will make it a fairer fight, four of us against her and however many guys are dumb enough to be in there with her.”
Shane shot Heston a grin, but had to ask, “Any TEAM rules about anallegedblack widow taking down therealblack widow responsible for killing her husband and maligning her good name?”
“Sounds fair to me,” Everlee replied. “But Tuesday, Heston’s right. You’re not trained like we are, and with you along, we’ll be worrying about your safety when we should be focused on Astor. You going in puts us at more risk, might even get one of us hurt. You’ve got time before we hit the hotel, so think about what you’re asking.”
“She killed Freddie, Everlee. I know she did and your Mother person has the evidence to prove it. I should be the one who puts a bullet between Astor’s beady eyes. You guys are probably better shots, but this is personal, damn it. Freddie deserves—”
“To be avenged?” Heston interrupted quietly. He glanced briefly over his shoulder. “I agree, but making this about revenge makes you our weak link. I’m not telling you no, but please think about what you’re asking. We’ll surely all have your back if you decide to face Astor. But to us, this is just a job. She’s trash and taking out trash is what we’re trained to do. But you’re an artist, senorita. A sensitive, classy woman. It’d be our pleasure to do this dirty job for you. Please reconsider. Taking a life puts a dark hashmark on your soul you’ll live with the rest of your days. Be certain that’s truly what you want.”
Shane couldn’t have phrased it any better. His gaze shifted to Everlee’s hand. She’d reached across the short space between her and Tuesday’s seats and now had hold of Tuesday’s wrist. “Heston’s right,” Everlee said. “Astorisa despicable piece of garbage, the worst kind, and believe me, all of us understand where you’re coming from. Just be sure before we land, okay? Think about it. Because once we get there, we’re going in fast and hard.”
“And there will be blood,” Shane added quietly through their shared communication link.
“With seven high-value targets, extreme chaos, too,” Heston explained. “Surprise will only be on our side for a few seconds, but one of us could still get hurt.”
“Will you have body cams?” Tuesday asked more timidly.
Shane hadn’t thought of that. He looked to Heston for the answer.
“I have two helmets cams aboard. If that will keep you safe, whoever goes in can certainly record what goes down for you.”
“Can’t I watch it live? While it’s happening?” This question was asked more hesitantly. Shane dared to hope that Heston’s delicate touch was working on Tuesday’s determination.
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” Heston replied. That seemed to be his go-to cuss word. “I’ll even make a copy if you’d like.”
Shane heard the breath whoosh out of Tuesday. “No, that’s okay. I don’t need one. But please end her, Agent Hayes,” she all but pleaded. “I don’t care what she’s done to me, but she killed Freddie. I know she did. Make her pay. Promise me.”
“Everlee and I will take care of her.” Shane couldn’t promise Astor’s execution, though. That was not who he was. But one way or the other, he would take Astor out of circulation. How she ended this day, dead or alive, was entirely up to her.
Heston turned to face Shane. “Helmets are in overhead storage. Gear up, amigos. Touch down in ten minutes.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Aching from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, nonetheless, Everlee planted one boot flat to the reflective circle of the hotel’s rooftop helicopter landing pad. It was go-time. Once outside the helo, she stood still as her neck acclimated to the weight of the helmet Shane insisted she wear. It was more cumbersome than she’d expected, though most of that extra weight was probably her stubborn need to take Astor down instead of letting her team, or herself, rest for the night. It was knowing where Astor was that pushed Everlee. So what if her head and neck ached tomorrow? Outing Astor’s plan to destroy Tuesday, maybe ending Astor herself, would be worth it.
Man, this mission had been one helluva long damned drag. Everything had gone wrong since the moment they’d pulled in front of Tuesday Bremmer’s cute little home back in Dallas. Only now, there was no Tuesday Bremmer, never had been. Only one darned intelligent Tuesday Smart. Everlee wondered how long Astor had planned to kill Atchison Bremmer before she’d carried through with it. Were those two kids physically, biologically hers? Jesus, had she given birth solely to trick Atchison? To get his insurance money? It seemed too bizarre to be true.
Everlee pushed that quandary to the back of her mind. It was bad enough Astor had duped Atchison for five years before she’d killed him. But that she’d gone through the pain of childbirth was pure abomination. What kind of mother could stoop so low? Ev would never understand, not if she lived to be a thousand. So yeah, Everlee refused to rest. She was driven, as much as Tuesday. The Bremmers, Freddie Lamb, and Tuesday deserved better. Everlee’s helmet didn’t feel so heavy anymore and the heads-up display was cool.
She’d worn a helmet cam before. That time on a joint training exercise with a group of Navy SEALs, at their Special Operations Forces Cold Weather Maritime Training Facility in frigid Kodiak, Alaska. It hadn’t been easy working with them. SEALs were a different breed of spec ops from Air Force members Everlee knew. They’d been damned serious and totally focused, as if their lives depended on passing the course.