Page 54 of Shephard

“Hear me clearly. I don’t care.” But a part of me did and he knew it. I craved the adrenaline rush and always had.

“An old buddy of yours escaped from a Russian prison. There is some talk he’s cleaning house.”

Well, fuck. Boris the Butcher, as he’d been called.

His escape meant the dangerous bastard was seeking to fulfill the revenge he threatened at his trial. I hadn’t been there, but I’d gotten a play by play. I was certain I was on that list. However, he would never get into this country and he had more enemies than I did.

“He won’t stay alive long enough for it to matter.”

Russ snorted. “You’re forgetting who you’re talking about. You were the only man to hunt him down. The only man to catch him after dozens of agents tried from several countries. You could do it again.”

“Russ. No. It’s not going to happen no matter how much flattery you toss at me.” The mission had been brutal, more so than almost any other. I’d almost lost my life twice. I’d also almost not gotten out of Moscow.

He laughed. “You know I had to try.”

“Yeah, you did. Now, I have two questions. You owe me that.”

“Shoot.”

“Any disappearing Marines?”

He scoffed. “All the time. Why?”

“Any with criminal ties or their deaths unexplained?”

His hesitation wasn’t well hidden for as trained as he was. “I’d have to check. I take it somewhere close to where you are?”

“Somewhere close.”

“Where are you, anyway?”

“Nowhere you want to be. Just say a few hundred miles from the Atlantic Ocean.”

“O-kay. I’ll need to get back to you,” Russ said under his breath.

“Second question. Any recent updated use of paralyzing drugs to render a victim incapable of moving while methods of torture are being used?”

“You’re asking questions that seem open ended. Yeah, there’s a new drug out of Russia of all godforsaken places. It’s pretty scary stuff. Only a small amount is needed.”

Russia.

Another coincidence that bothered the hell out of me.

“Thanks for the info. That’s all I need.” I also wasn’t telling anyone from my past anything about my current life.

“You got it, buddy. You know how to get ahold of me if you change your mind and want to come back. One piece of advice. If you’re going to live a civilian life, do it. Don’t go halfway back into the fold. It could be dangerous.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” I was wanted back, but the entire situation bothered me. If I was killed while locating the Butcher, then no one was the wiser and there was less of a chance for me to talk.

Not in this lifetime.

I glared into the rearview mirror, lifting my head and staring at my beard. Old man, huh? That’s what she’d called me. Okay, so my beard did have some gray in it, but… I rubbed my hand through the long strands. My beard was beginning to feel like stiff wire. Maybe I had been hiding behind the façade for far too long.

Eh. Who gave a shit?

As I turned onto the main road, it was impossible not to think about the single mission where a target hadn’t been killed but sent to prison. That had been by design. After allowing myself to see the man’s scarred face in my mind, I slammed my hand on the steering wheel.

That life was finished and it was going to stay that way.