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Hunter: Perfect Revenge (Perfectly Book 3) by Alice May Ball (15)









WO CAMERAS FLANKED the steel door to Carmine’s panic room. I stood in plain view of both of them with my arms out.


“It’s clear, Carmine,” I said, looking upward, “Your guys did a great job.”


“I saw it.” Carmine’s voice was on a speaker. “Is that a Fed you brought into my house?”


“Yeah, Cross is good people, Carmine,” I said, with an edge in my voice that I didn’t intend. Carmine must have heard the catch.


“You sure you want to vouch for her? You know how seriously we take that kind of a thing.” He was talking about the code in all the Italian families. I’d heard about it often enough. Mobsters were all about their codes and their ‘honor.’ It would apply to a contractor like me, just as much as it did to insiders. “You bring her in here and she fucks up? You’ll be responsible just as much she is. You know it, right?”


“I know it, Carmine.” I looked over at her and watched her face. Nothing showed. I wasn’t sure I should be putting so much faith in her at this point and the way that I felt, the buzzing in my stomach just added to my confusion.


It was a rule of mine, when my instinct was strong, I always followed it. Only now, I couldn’t tell which way it was pulling. Maybe both directions at once.


A Delta Force close combat instructor first said to me, “Instinct is faster than thought,” and he had a neurological explanation to back it up. What was I supposed to do now, when I had two conflicting instincts about her? What I did was just to follow the one that seemed more demanding and urgent.


Rationally, I knew that we had fought together on the same side just now. Which made us comrades in arms, sure. Live ammunition was aimed at all of us. It still wasn’t enough to put aside the time I’d spent in jail. Coupled with the way my heart rose when her eyes shone at me though, it was enough to put my revenge on hold.


After all, the wisdom about revenge is that it’s always best prepared and served cold. Maybe deep down I had a sense, or perhaps just a glimmer of an instinct, that when I went to jail, that things hadn’t gone in quite the way that they seemed. That wouldn’t be too much of a reach. Nothing in this whole mess was what it seemed. So who knew?  


What Carmine said was serious, though. Nobody with any sense takes the words of a mafia Don lightly. He had reason enough to be grateful to me for now but if Vesper let him down, I would be an unhealthy shade of toast in no time flat, just as fast as she would herself.


Carmine left a pause that had me feeling exposed, and then he said, “Step back from the door.”


The door clunked then swung slowly outward. Carmine stepped out and pressed a button for the door to close again behind him. He made straight toward his two guys. He clasped their hands, gripped their shoulders and kissed them both.


“You men showed great honor. I won’t forget it,” and he looked in their eyes as he said, “you know that.”


“I don’t know if you saw how they acted on the roof,” I said, “But they were courageous. Both outstanding men.”


He came to me, looking warily at Vesper. “So.” He stood in front of me, still looking immaculate, like he stepped out at an interval from the opera. “You come to kill me and then you bring a federal agent into my house.” He looked me up and down. “Still, I need to thank you. You did good.”


He still left me unsure of how much he had seen, but I was going to assume that the whole house and grounds were monitored in his safe room. He looked at the smoking hole in the wall through to the garage.


We reached the top of the stairs. Carmine stopped and color drained from his face as he saw the ruin of his lobby and where his heavy front doors had been. He opened the doors to a room at the front of the house. Smoke drifted out in the hallway.


“Okay, I’m going to have a busy day.” His looked through the gaping hole in the front doors and toward the grounds. “You have no idea what landscaping costs around here.”


“The burdens you have to shoulder, maintaining this humble country cabin.”


His eye sparkled. “Yeah, okay. So.” He turned to face me, “I owe you a favor. It’s not something I’ll forget.” He looked at Vesper. “You, I’m not so sure. It may be best if we don’t talk. Save either of us being…” his eyes narrowed, “... compromised in any way.”


I asked him straight, “Carmine, I don’t know what it was that I got dragged into here.”


His eyes darkened. I said, “The big guy, the one we chased off — I’m guessing you saw him.”


Carmine nodded. “The Wrecker, he’s only ever called in for scorched earth jobs. You know what I mean?” His eyes narrowed at me, “Sure, you were military. You know. It means you, your house, your family, your children and your whole fucking village. Leave nothing but a mark.”


I nodded back. “We had a team for that.” I remembered the blank eyes of the Skull and Bones troop.


I told Carmine, “Well, The Wrecker left his phone behind and he got a message.” I thought about showing Carmine the phone, but the text message may have had more information about Vesper than Carmine strictly needed to know. “It gave Vesper as his next target.”


Carmine’s eyes widened as he looked at her. “I’m impressed, young lady. You must have scared somebody very important, and scared them one hell of a lot.” His eyebrow lifted. “I never heard of him getting a single target before.”


Her voice dripped wryly, “I’m honored.”


“You truly are.” He said. “You’ll be dead, regrettably, but in a distinguished circumstance.”


“It will cheer my last moments.” She was deadpan. When Carmine turned to me, I could see that he was impressed by Vesper’s cool as much as I was. The look in his eye told me that he was assuming a deeper connection between the two of us as well.


She said, “The force that was here when I arrived, it was like there was a whole private army out there.”


I told her, “You might be surprised how many private armies there are now. They were built on government contracts in Iraq and Afghanistan, and a few of them have made their way back into the States.” 


Carmine had been noticeably quiet. Then he told me,


“Take care of her if you can.” I wasn’t sure if he just wanted to change the subject.


“There’s more.” I said. “She got a contract on me at almost exactly the same moment.”


He blinked. “A contract?” He turned to Vesper, “Is this some freelance or is the FBI taking on private sector work now?”


“He’s exaggerating,” she said, “Well, some. The order I got does usually result in the death of the suspect.”


“Carmine,” I held my palms upwards, “Do you know why there’s suddenly a hit on the three of us?”


He was going to stonewall me, I could see how he was composing his face. Vesper was about to protest, but I held up a hand to discourage her.


I straightened up. “Carmine, when I told you I’d been sent here to take you out, you weren’t very surprised. You knew right away where the hit was from, or at least where my instructions came from.” His eyes narrowed. “I shared that with you, and I know that you have at least some idea about what the fuck it is that’s going on here.”


His lip tightened.


“Come on, Carmine. You owe me this. Share a little. Help me out.” 


“Okay,” Carmine said, “You don’t want to follow where any of this goes. I’m telling you that for your own good. That’s my gift to you, okay? I’m serious.”


I looked harder at him and he took a breath. “Alright. I respect that you want to know more. I’ll tell you this. There are bigger things in play here. This isn’t some personal grudge.”


We listened. “A lot of very high-up people started to get jumpy all of a sudden. Just a couple of days ago.  People, no names alright? People I would just call and shoot the shit with, all of a sudden they’re all guarded on the phone. Some I can’t even reach. And it’s all got something to do with…” he looked at Vesper again.


“Okay, I don’t know what I can safely tell you and what I cant, but I owe you something. So…” Carmine rubbed his chin. “Come with me.” He took us along a hallway into a dark study. From behind a large wooden desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out a card, which he handed to me.


I looked at it and I was surprised. “The Russian mob?”


Carmine shrugged. “We have areas of cooperation. Go see this guy. Show him the card to let him know that I sent you. Ask him about the boilerhouse project.”


He took us back to the garage. From a cabinet on the wall he took out a key fob. “This is for that Jeep.” I followed his eyes to a dark blue Wrangler. “Park it somewhere secure in the city when you can and just tell me where.” He handed me the fob.


“And try not to fuck up my goddamned lawn too much more on your way out.”