“The timeline has moved up,” the Kingmaker said breaking his silence. “I have reason to believe whatever deal was struck, it’s going to finish in sixteen days. I suggest you get a move on lest you lose your target.”
Usually, Niklaus spent months surveying his targets, learning their weaknesses, and their patterns of behavior. Going after an entire family, however, not to mention a mystery person whose name Niklaus didn’t even know…sixteen days was not enough time.
“That’s not going to work.”
The Kingmaker met his gaze, his expression telling him his thoughts on the matter, but Niklaus ground his teeth, choking down what he really wanted to say.
“If you want the job done—”
“If I recall, I gave you this assignment over a year ago. In that time, you’ve chosen to do everything but, including picking up a smoking habit.” His eyes skirted to the cigarette tucked behind Niklaus’ ear. “I’ve elected to ignore the latter, but you need to understand something, Niklaus Volkov.”
The room grew so silent that Niklaus’ defenses rose, waiting for a threat to appear.
His voice didn’t shift in pitch, nor had he changed his expression from the complete ease that was resting there, but in his next words, the threat was clear.
“The moment you no longer serve a purpose, you become useless to me.”
The threat rankled, and though it pained him to do so, Niklaus remained silent.
“I suggest you get moving,” he said as he glanced down at his watch, an expensive looking thing that cost more than Niklaus was willing to spend on anything except his car. “You’re running out of time.”
* * *
Back at his hotel room, Niklaus lugged the case from his trunk, carrying it into his temporary home before slamming the door shut and flipping all the locks. He didn’t have much time to prepare, so if he wanted to get a jump on this, he had to start now.
Turning the latches, he threw open the top of the case, pulling out a laptop bag, setting that on the table that was used for eating, then returned to the trunk to pull out a new vest—top of the line Kevlar—and a few of his favorite weapons. His rifle stayed locked in its case at the bottom. Though long-range shots were his specialty, he doubted he would have much use for it since his job was intelligence as opposed to assassination. As he finished checking over his gear, he went ahead and turned on the laptop, typing in the special encryption key that let him enter the network where he made a call to one of the two people he knew he would need for this assignment.
Usually, he worked alone—they all did. In their trade, it was easier to remain unattached. Not to mention that it could be deadly owing someone a favor. But he only had a little over two weeks to see this done.
An icon appeared on the screen, one depicting a smiling skull, then seconds later, a new window popped open, Winter’s face coming into focus.
“Red? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“I’ve got a job for you.”
Gray eyes, almost as light as the shade of her bleached and dyed hair turned inquisitive as she studied him from her side of the screen. “Sounds fun. What do you need?”
That was a good question… “Everything. A family, last name McCarthy.”
She arched a brow. “That’s not enough for me to go on. It’s a common name.”
“Well as of now, that’s all I got. They’re a crime family undoubtedly with ties both here in New York and in Ireland. They traffic weapons, so that might help narrow the search.”
Winter nodded. “I’ll do what I can. What’s your timeline?”
“I need the information in forty-eight hours.”
Whistling, she shook her head. “My rate just went up ten percent.”
Despite him having to pay her exorbitant fees—at least until his check was cut for this assignment—Niklaus gave her a small smile. Even with the short timeframe, one that most wouldn’t be able to manage, Winter always came through. “I’ll get back to you when I know more.”
The screen went black as Winter ended the call.
One down, one to go.
Digging out his phone, he pressed ‘two’ then the call button, bringing it up to his ear, hearing the monotone ringing for several moments before blaring music sounded on the other end.
“What can I do you for?”
“I need a favor.”
“You seem to need a lot of those lately, boyo.”
Of course it would be Celt that gave him a hard time. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes.”
He hung up before Celt could respond, knowing that whatever his response would be would probably be something he didn’t want to hear.