Tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, Niklaus watched from the privacy of his car as Liam McCarthy and his men exited the pub, heading towards two black SUVs not too far away. Only when they were inside with the engine going did he start his own, knowing that the roar of his would attract attention.
One thing Niklaus realized about himself as he slowly pulled out, carefully trailing behind them, was that he had far more control over himself than he’d thought. The minute Liam had tried to show him up in the pub, Niklaus had wanted to show him what a year and a half of training had instilled in him, but at the last possible moment, he thought better of it.
If Liam even suspected that Niklaus was more than a bar patron, he would be more likely to keep look into him—it already didn’t help that he shared a face with Mishca. It was obvious that the pair had not crossed paths however—but there was guarantee that anyone else in his little crew hadn’t. Besides, if it was true that the McCarthy brothers were really trying to make Hell’s Kitchen their new base of operations, when they did their research, Mishca’s name would ultimately come up.
So for the time being, he’d restrained himself, but one day very soon, he and Liam McCarthy would have words.
The Irish drove for a while before finally pulling into the lot of an old warehouse. Niklaus kept on, circling the back, and parking a few blocks down. There was no point in going in just yet, not when he wasn’t sure who all was inside.
Killing the engine and pocketing his keys, he propped his feet up on the dash and waited.
* * *
Four hours, twenty-six minutes, and ten seconds had passed since Niklaus had parked outside the warehouse, waiting for Liam and his men to exit. In that time, he’d sent a text to Winter, asking her for the blueprints to the warehouse, and anything she had so far. Though it had yet to be a full day, he didn’t doubt that she already had plenty.
“Apparently,” she’d said when they’d connected, “Donovan—that’s the father by the way—wasn’t behind their sudden move to the States. He still, for the most part, does business out of Dublin.It was the sons’ idea to expand. From what I have Rourke is the brawn, and the other, Liam, is the brain. Though he’s the youngest, nothing gets done without his approval.”
And Reagan was mixed up with him.
He wondered whether she knew what he did, or at the very least, who his family was. Back at the pub, she had jumped in front of him like she was trying to protect him from Liam, so even if she didn’t know everything … he bet she knew something. He would have to find that out later, though.
Sadly—because it would have made his life a hell of a lot easier—Winter hadn’t been able to find much on the shipment. Actually, it was hard to find anything on McCarthy business. The only thing she had been able to find was a tracking number, and that was a dead end since the shipment was marked as ‘lost.’
And last, she’d learned Donovan was coming stateside very soon—that at least coincided with what the Kingmaker had said about the deal going down in little more than two weeks.
But that still didn’t answer the question as to where the shipment was presently.
“Dig deeper,” Niklaus said as the doors to the warehouse swung open, Liam and a few others walking out. “I’ll call you back.”
They both hung up without a goodbye.
Shifting down in his seat, he ducked out of sight as the SUVs passed. He waited a heartbeat, two, then sat up, glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure they were out of sight before opening the car door and climbing out, going to the trunk.
On the job, the most important thing to remember was to come prepared. Sure, he was good with his fists, probably a hell of a lot better than anyone who might await him inside the warehouse, but his hands could only do so much, especially if they were armed.
First came his vest, the kevlar carefully strapped into place. Then his thigh holsters—as well as another set at his waist. His beanie followed, and finally, the black mask.
It was a bit unnecessary for others, the mask. Not one of his associates felt the need to conceal their identities, but for Niklaus, it was a necessity.
Armed for bear, Niklaus made his way to the warehouse, picking the lock for one of the side doors. He could hear voices not too far from his place, mostly male though he thought he did hear the soft laughter of a female.