Gabriel simply wanted to sleep. He was exhausted and his body ached. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. Lunch had been a salad. He’d not been in the mood for more food before he met Justin for their little hospital exploit. He hated to admit that he was a little surprised at how cleanly that whole thing had gone off. Justin’s ease with Russian, especially slang, made Gabriel more than a little positive that the man was former CIA or special forces. But he’d unravel the puzzle that was Justin later. Right then, he just needed sleep.

Unlocking the door to his hotel room, Gabriel stepped inside and immediately stopped. The entire room was trashed. When he’d left, the place had been neat and tidy, as if no one was staying there. Now the sheets were ripped off the bed and the mattress pulled off the frame. Two of the pillows had been torn open, the stuffing strewn everywhere. His clothes had been pulled out of the closet along with his suitcase. Pulling the gun from where it was tucked in a holster at his lower back, Gabriel carefully closed the door behind him and slowly entered the room. He checked the bathroom and the small balcony to find that he was completely alone. Someone had broken into his room looking for something. His Chaumet and Patek Philippe chronographs were still there, if only on the floor. Those two watches alone made a quick smash and grab worthwhile.

Was this related to his current job? Or something from his past? There was always someone somewhere hunting him, but he couldn’t imagine how anyone could possibly know he was in Cincinnati. But if it was this case, how did they know where to find him? More than one person could have been watching the doctor’s house the night before. A smarter assassin could have followed, and they’d not known it because they were focused on the other car. And then after the shooting, Gabriel’s attention had been on getting Justin to the safety of his room rather than watching to see if they were still being followed.

Fuck. He had to call Justin.

Putting his gun on the desk, Gabriel pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed the number Justin gave him.

“G, my friend,” Justin’s ease voice came through the line after one ring. “I’ve been gone less than five minutes. You can’t miss me already.”

“Someone searched my room.”

“Not housekeeping?” Justin asked, but his voice was dead serious.

“Definitely not housekeeping.”

“Pack up. I’m turning around now. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. You’re going to stay at my place.”

“No. I’ll get a new hotel room. I just wanted you to know that we’ve very likely been spotted.”

“I’m not thrilled about it either, but my house is secure. It’s set up to be protected. You’re with me. I’ll be there in seven minutes.” Justin ended the call, leaving Gabriel to growl at his phone. This was not what he wanted. He might have wanted to peel away some of Justin’s secrets and figure the man out, but he wasn’t excited about the prospect of sleeping in the same space with the man. Being in close, constant contact wasn’t great for his sanity.

Grabbing his roller bag, he winced as the handle bit into the stitches that laced the heel of his left hand. Careless. He needed to remember the damn injury. He quickly started piling clothes and his other belongings into the bag. All his things were tossed in various directions and hidden under fallen sheets. He didn’t want to leave anything behind, but there wasn’t much that could be tied directly to him. No identifying names or labels. He’d learned to live like a ghost. He didn’t exist and that was what kept him alive for so many years.

In the bathroom, he removed the ventilation grate to reveal the small bag of weapons he’s hidden there. The bag was untouched, no fingerprints in the fine powder he’d placed on it to reveal if someone had found it and then put it back. He collected the stray weapons he’d stashed around the room. Not one of them had been disturbed. Whoever had searched the room had done a really poor job of it, reminding him of the gang members they’d encountered the previous night. He placed the last item in the bag when there was a loud knock at the door.

With his glock held behind him, Gabriel peered through the peephole to find Justin standing on the other side looking less than thrilled to be back at the hotel. The other man likely noticed how Gabriel’s head blocked the light from the peephole because he suddenly grinned.

“Housekeeping. You want fresh towels?” he asked in a high-pitched voice. It vaguely reminded Gabriel of a movie that he saw years ago, but his exhausted brain couldn’t pull it up. He just unlocked the door and held it open for Justin. His new partner smirked at him, but it died away the second he stepped fully into the room.

“Well, this is a fucking mess,” Justin muttered. “I’m beginning to think that we’re the only professionals in this damn town.”

“That’s the way it looks,” Gabriel agreed. He walked back into the room and zipped up his roller bag. He would need to iron all of his clothes again when he got to Justin’s…assuming the man owned an iron and ironing board. He wasn’t hopeful. “Whoever searched the room didn’t find any of my hiding places as far as I can tell.”

Justin opened his mouth and then promptly closed it again without saying a word. He shook his head. There was something more eating at the man, but for some reason he didn’t want to say it out loud. At least not yet. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Nodding, Gabriel shouldered his computer bag and then grabbed the roller bag, following behind Justin. This had not been a part of his plan when he took this job. When Marilyn had contacted him about the contract, he’d know that this wouldn’t be a quick in and out, but he’d not anticipated these complications. He was not sloppy in his work and Justin didn’t appear to be either despite his loose and careless demeanor. Something else was at work here and he didn’t like it.

They remained silent down to the garage and while loading his luggage into the trunk. It was only when they were on the road, gliding across the Ohio River toward Northern Kentucky that Justin finally spoke. The windows to his car were down and the warm air ruffled through Gabriel’s hair. It was still warm and humid from the afternoon’s heat, but there was a refreshing feel to it, like a lover’s embrace at the end of a long day.

“Unless you’re the world’s best mercenary, how likely is it that a professional wouldn’t have found at least something hidden in that room?” Justin asked.

“I am the world’s best,” Gabriel said without a hint of bravado that earned him an irritated glare from Justin. “And I know how to hide my gear.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Justin prompted with a wave of his hand as if motioning for him to get to the damn point.

“But a professional…like yourself…” Gabriel said with a slight pause, “would have been able to spot one, maybe two items. Of course, a professional searching a room wouldn’t have made it obvious that he or she had been in the room. A professional wouldn’t have scared his target into flight—”

“Unless he wanted him to run,” Justin finished with a growl.

“I don’t understand how I was spotted so quickly. There was only the run to the doctor’s house and that got us the four morons from last night. Is it possible that there was a second car following us last night?”

Justin sighed. He relaxed in his seat, right hand on the steering wheel and left hand holding his head while his elbow rested on the door. He looked tired, but Gabriel wasn’t sure that he believed it. Fuck. He didn’t know what to believe. This job was twenty-four hours old and they had both sustained injuries already and had zero solid leads to speak of. It wasn’t reassuring.

“Possible. Not particularly likely, but possible.”

“Other thoughts?”

“Marilyn betrayed us,” Justin tossed out, but Gabriel was already shaking his head.

“She’s got nothing to gain by taking us both out. She makes far too much money off of me.”

“Plus, if word were to get out that she burned clients…well, she knows that she’d be putting herself out of business.”

“True.” Gabriel rubbed his face with his good hand, trying to push past the building frustration to see the answer that was just beyond his fingertips. “Someone else could know about the contract. Know that Marilyn has promised delivery.”

“Marilyn is good,” Justin snapped. “I’ve worked with her for years and she’s never slipped up. She’s not a freaking noob at this.”

“I’m not saying she is,” Gabriel said calmly. He could feel the smile pressing against the corners of his mouth, impressed by Justin’s fiery defense of the woman. Either Justin cared for her or he regarded her as a friend, and the man was protective of his friends. Interesting.

Justin grunted like he suddenly realized where Gabriel’s train of thought was headed. “You’re talking about the person who put out the contract.”

Gabriel nodded. “If you’re new to this, or at least not careful, and go through the wrong channels, then the trail might not be too hard to follow.”

Justin shifted in his seat, straightening while his hand tightened on the wheel. “I don’t fucking like this,” he muttered. “I’m more accustomed to working in the dark. No one knows when I’m on a job and I’m definitely not hitting resistance this damn early. What the fuck!” He slammed his left hand against the wheel.

As much as he hated to admit, Gabriel had to agree with Justin. It felt like this whole job was already heading sideways and they hadn’t even made any forward progress yet. They needed time to go over the information they had, dig up some additional intelligence, make plans, do a little reconnaissance, shake some people down. So far, all they accomplished was breaking into a dead man’s house and grabbing a backup hard drive and prints for hoodlum who tried to kill them. Lovely.

“Were you able to check the doctor’s hard drive? Or run the prints?”

Justin heavily sighed. “The hard drive is encrypted. I’ve got code cracker running on it now, but it’ll take a while. The prints on the dumb fuck that shot at us revealed what we thought. Just some stupid punk. His rap sheet was filled with petty theft and drug charges. Nothing that would indicate that he would how to handle a hit.”

“So, we’ve got nothing.”

“No, we’ve got leads,” Justin sharply corrected. “The only problem is that we’ve also got some psycho on our asses at the same time when we really shouldn’t.”

“We’ve should have expected this.”

“Really?” Justin hit the turn signal and crossed over a lane in the sparsely filled expressway to take the next exit.

Gabriel looked around at his surroundings for the first time as they paused for a red light. There really wasn’t much to see at all. The last sign he saw was marked for a town called Ft. Mitchell, but the place looked largely residential and quiet. He glanced over his shoulder to find one other car get off at the exit at the same time. A white minivan driven by a woman. She pulled up in the lane beside them, revealing a baby in the child seat in the back. Not a likely tail.

“There’s a lot of money on the line if this new drug is approved by the FDA. Throwing around a few million dollars here and there to eliminate obstacles is just a drop in the bucket in comparison to what will be made in the future.”

A low grunt came from Justin again before he accelerated through the green light. He turned left, heading deeper into what appeared to be a sleepy suburb. “I’ve dealt with politicians that were less problematic. I never expected big pharma to be worse. Joke’s on me.”

“Joke’s on both of us. I wasn’t expecting to run into trouble this early either.”

They rode in silence for several minutes, the car winding through a sleepy little town filled with mature maples, quaint middle-class homes, and even a red brick fire house. Gabriel fully expected there to be a dalmatian lounging somewhere inside near one of the fire trucks. They continued on until they reached what appeared to be a large mall and gathering of restaurants. Justin pulled into the parking lot and Gabriel sat up a bit. It was nearly ten in the evening after their adventure at the hospital and then the hotel. The shops were all closed and only a couple of the restaurants still had their lights.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked, working to keep the concern out of his voice.

“Easy now. We’ve still got our truce,” Justin said, but his voice didn’t have any of the playfulness that it had contained when they’d first made the truce the night before. The man was worried, and Gabriel couldn’t blame him. Their uphill battle was already looking far steeper than it should have been.

“But…”

Justin grinned now. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t trust how well you went through all your shit when you repacked. It looks like we’re up against an idiot and a profession and I’m not sure which one got into your room. If it was the professional, he could have slipped a chip into your shit and is using it to track us.”

Gabriel sighed. As much as he wanted to argue with Justin, he had to admit that it was a possibility. And if Justin was going to take him to his own home, then it was only fair that he took precautions. “Are you going to be able to make the checks without destroying my possessions?”

Justin pulled into a parking spot at the back of the lot under a light. He put the car into park and turned off the engine. “Yep.”

They got out of the car at the same time and Justin popped the trunk. From a little black bag, he pulled out a handheld device that looked just a little bigger than a cellphone.

“Open up your suitcase.” Justin tapped on the machine. “I’m getting something, but it’s faint.”

Gabriel’s stomach clenched at the idea that someone had slipped a tracking device on him and he hadn’t even seen it. Of course, he’d made the mistake of not even looking for it in the first place. He’d been searching for all of his possession while at the same time trying to find a clue as to who broke into his room. There hadn’t been a thought to a tracking device. He’d underestimated this fucker. Clenching his teeth, he swallowed back a curse. Just a rookie mistake. If he’d made that mistake when he’d been starting out, he would have been dead long ago. He knew better. It couldn’t possibly instill a sense of confidence in Justin to know that his partner was making such obvious blunders.

Opening the bag, he started pulling out clothes, stacking them in an untidy pile in the trunk after running them in front of Justin’s little reader. After the clothes, he moved to his shoes and then a handful of weapons before grabbing his shaving kit.

“Jackpot!” Justin crowed.

Gabriel froze with the bag in both hands, holding it gingerly as if he’d suddenly discovered that he was holding a bomb. Not that he’d been careful with it earlier. Before he’d found it opened and dropped on the floor of the bathroom. Then he’d simply scooped it up and zipped it shut again.

Putting down the reader, Justin took the bag from Gabriel and started to slowly pull out each item, inspecting it closely before dropping it on the clothes. When the bag was empty, he carefully ran his fingers along the interior. Gabriel was about to suggest that they simply burn the bag when Justin’s lips parted in a huge grin. Digging into one of the interior pockets, he pulled out what looked to be a piece of black tape with a tiny wire sticking out of it. Justin dropped the back in the trunk and held of the tiny device to the light.

“Simple. Elegant,” Justin said a bit breathlessly.

“Is it recording us?”

“Nope. It’s just a location beacon. A radio frequency tracking device. Lots of companies will put them on important cargo to keep a close eye on its exact location at all times. And it’s small enough to avoid the notice of most thieves if they don’t know what they are looking for.”

“Can we trace the signal back to the person following us?”

Justin’s smile dimmed. “Nah. Doesn’t work like that. It just sends out a signal saying, ‘Here I am!’ and if you know the code for the signal, you can find it.” With a shake of his head, Justin pulled out the little wire and destroyed the tiny chip. “These are cheap and easy to get your hands on in bulk. I’ve used them a few times.”

Dropping the trash on the ground, Justin picked up the reader again and checked over the clothes and bag a second time, but there was no sign of a second signal.

“Your clothes are clean. Well, they’re clean in a matter—”

“Enough,” Gabriel snapped. He grabbed handful of his garments and started shoving them back in the bag. His hand was throbbing, his stomach was growling, and he was tired. If they’d shaken their tail for the time being, he would be happy if Justin dropped him at some little motel so he could catch a few hours of sleep. He was seriously off his game.

“Now…about your computer.”

Gabriel groaned. He’d known this was coming. “Are you getting a signal from that bag too?”

“No, not that.” He’d returned the little handheld device to the bag in his car. Justin started to reach up and scratch his head with his left hand, but suddenly stopped, wincing. The wound in his side had likely pulled. He couldn’t imagine how the man had forgotten about it.

“Then what?”

“He wouldn’t have to put a device on if he managed to log into your computer.”

“My computer is encrypted. A twenty-six character password is required along with a bio log-in.”

“Oooo…snazzy,” Justin teased. Gabriel just rolled his eyes at the man.

“If that is not sufficient for you, then you may destroy the laptop.”

Justin’s mouth fell open in horror. It was as if he’d suggested setting fire to a pile of kittens.

“Access to the laptop and it’s hard drive is encrypted, but I save nothing on the computer. All my files are saved on an encrypted server.”

A low snort left Justin. “Yeah, you and all those naked celebrity photos.”

“I think I’m a little better protected than celebrities who have taken naked photos on their phones and then don’t expect those to get out.”

“Yeah, I feel like that’s one of those basic laws of science. Law of gravity. Law of thermodynamics. Law of nudie photos. You take that shit and it will get on the internet. Guaranteed,” Justin said, drawing out the last word with a fake southern accent.

“So, what do you want to do?”

Justin stared at the computer bag and scratched his chin. “You’re one-hundred percent sure that’s your computer.”

“Yes. That I checked. It’s mine, down to the scratch on the front left corner.”

With a nod, he motioned for Gabriel to step back and he closed the trunk, leaving the laptop in place. “This looks like it was a quick job. This asshole probably wanted us in one place and to know where we were hiding. He wouldn’t have had time to try to hack a computer.”

Gabriel walked around to the passenger door but stopped before opening it. “Then he’s getting what he wants. You should drop me off at a motel. We should stay separated.”

“He’s getting part of what he wants. We’re together, but he can’t track us.”

“But—”

“G., we’re safer together. We’ve both been injured already.” Gabriel just stared at Justin over the roof, lifting one eyebrow at him until Justin finally groaned. “Yes, yours is self-inflicted. We’re injured and your room was compromised. We’re obviously up against more than what we were anticipating. We’re better off watching each other’s backs from one location.”

Gabriel glared at his companion for a couple of seconds before he heaved a dramatic sigh, and only because he knew it would irritate Justin. “You may…have a point.”

“There you go!” Justin laughed and then extended his right fist across the roof. “Come on, G. Love. Don’t leave me hanging.”

“If I had known you’d be this big of a pain in the ass, I would have told Marilyn to choke of her offer.” But he still found himself reaching across the roof and lightly bumping his uninjured fist against Justin’s.

Justin laughed and dropped into the car, apparently ready at last to take Gabriel to his home. Gabriel didn’t blame Justin for his precaution. If their roles were reversed, Gabriel wasn’t sure that he’d be taking the same risk Justin was willing to take. Which only made him wonder what was running through the other man’s head that he was willing to welcome a known contract killer into his private sanctuary.

Sighing softly, Gabriel laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He was too tired to worry about it. And maybe, he just didn’t care anymore.