“Any identifying logos?”
“She’s gone for the standard black motif.”
The sniper set her eye to the sight and waited. The image started to fray and
dissipate. Then she gave a tiny jerk, and for a moment the memory held itself together. “She’s taking a phone call.” Really? What kind of sniper took a phone call?
“Can you hear anything?”
I shook my head. “I almost lost her before her phone rang.”
“Let’s see if this will help.” It was my only warning before he curled his hands around my waist.
That fast the scene in front of me graduated from rabbit ears to high
definition. “Holy crap.” I tried to hang on while the world reset around me.
“They just entered the condo.” The sound of our shooter’s voice came through without any interference.
“Definitely female. She’s reporting to someone.” Not wanting to miss any of
the conversation, I covered Kayden’s hands, ensuring we wouldn’t get separated.
“No, haven’t seen him.” A pause. “Yes, sir, they had some notebooks.”
Another pause. “Understood.”
Our little assassin clicked her phone shut, tucked it away, and reset her eye to
the scope.
“Um, did you happen to notice a tail at Ramirez’s?”
His fingers tightened. “No, why?”
“She just told someone we pulled notebooks out of his place.” She must be a
chameleon for neither one of us to spot her. “And we were right, they’re waiting
for us to lead them to Ellery.”
“Do you recognize her?” he pushed.
“Maybe?” Something about her set off little, warning bells. “I think, maybe, I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
“Whe—,” An imperious demand trilled. He lifted one hand from my waist
and the image shivered, lost a bit of definition, but held. “Time to go, Cyn,” he
said. “Hobbes just left his office, and we need to get into place, so we can switch
out with Bishop.”
“I don’t think she’ll give us anything more.” In truth, the image lost it vibrancy, probably because there wasn’t much happening.
“Can you fast forward it to make sure?”
“Yeah, give me a moment.”
With the extra boost from his touch, I arrowed through the unfocused layers,
navigating the memories with an unusual ease. A flash caught my attention and,
concentrating, I brought it up front and center. Sure enough, the moment she pulled the trigger, her emotional signature spiked. Other than a soft curse at her
miss, she made quick work of breaking down the rifle, retrieving the casing, and
getting the hell out of Dodge.
“I got nothing.” I stepped away and broke our connection. My surroundings
dimmed and resettled. A low-level headache kicking in. “Did you pick up
anything?”
“A faint energy signature, but not one I recognize.” He tugged me close.
“Headache?”
