Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(65)

“Hope you’re not doing this for my benefit,” Gabe muttered, his throat tight and sore.

Zack seemed not to hear so well. “You look too young. When did you graduate?”

“I’m old enough. I’ve been in private care for three years now.”

“That makes you all of what? Nineteen?” Zack teased Shelby.

“Twenty-three, if you must know.”

“What? No way. You engaged?”

“Knock it off.” Gabe didn’t even want to hear the answer to that one. “You’re so far off base, old man. Put a sock in it.”

“Not looking,” she responded lightly. “I’m dedicated to my patients.”

Don’t fib, little girl. You were certainly looking in the bathroom this morning.

“Why are you in private practice if you’re an RN?”

“Well, you see...” She hesitated. Gabe’s ears perked up. “I’m not actually a registered nurse. Not yet.”

Excuse me all to hell?

“I’m just a nursing assistant. I’m going to go back for my nursing degree one of these days.”

Then why the hell did you want us to call you Nurse Sullivan, Miss Smarty Pants?

Gabe shook his head at the nerve of that woman. Damn. The extent people go to for control.

Zack kept on not minding his business, as if that last revelation didn’t bother him. “You still live with your parents?”

“Oh, no. I have an apartment in Silver Springs. It’s in a very nice gated community with all the amenities.”

“Really? Well, isn’t it a small world? I know a guy who just bought a real nice home in Silver Springs.”

“Don’t do it, Lennox,” Gabe growled. His nosy senior agent was treading on thin ice. Shelby didn’t need to know Gabe might be her neighbor. Ever. Unless... could the old blabbermouth mean someone else?

“You don’t live far from the hospital then.” Zack artfully changed topics yet again. Sort of. “You live there all by yourself?”

“Not far, and yes, I live alone.”

“All alone? No dog? No cat?”

“No goldfish, either.” She chuckled, a pleasant sound in Gabe’s congested head.

That was a first. The old man must know his way around prickly women. He spoiled it by turning the conversation to second amendment rights. “You don’t think anyone has the right to carry guns though, do you?”

Great. That ought to get her stirred up.

Gabe coughed quietly into his sleeve. He stopped listening for her answer at the sound of a car engine idling. A sedan sat parked six car-lengths down the street to his right, its light off. “Target in sight,” he advised Zack.

“Copy that. You know what to do.” His answer came back soft and sure, while Shelby and Kelsey chatted in the background.

No problem. Watch the enemy and learn. Apprehend if necessary. Eliminate if push came to shove.

Gabe dropped behind the cover of a neatly trimmed privet hedge bordering the corner residence, a brick home with all lights blazing. Rock music bellowed from an open second-story window, signaling that at least one of the Browns’ three teenage boys was home.

Gabe liked these kids. They were hot-rodders, like him. The ’63 souped-up, two-door Nova in the driveway gave them away. It looked a lot like his, only this one needed a paint job to cover the primer-gray. Their father’s pristine candy-apple red Ford Fairlane caught his attention, too. Gear heads. Gotta love ’em.

Still out of sight, Gabe retrieved the pistol tucked under his left arm, racked the slide and slid a laser scope onto the top rail. Sometimes that little red dot was enough to make a man think twice.

Just in time. A single guy, dressed entirely in black, his head and face covered as well, stepped out of the driver’s side of the sedan, quietly shutting the door behind him. Six feet tall, body shape hinting him to be close to two hundred pounds. Ramrod straight posture. He walked between the two homes behind Kelsey’s. The bulk at his hip and the thigh holster spoke for themselves. This was no cat burglar.

Gabe swallowed hard. Now directly in front of Gabe’s position, but still on the street, the intruder glanced from left to right, his head cocked. He looked just like Alex. Walked just like him. Had to be him.

Undetected, Gabe waited. The soft rubber soles of his boots were designed to absorb the impact of sharp terrain, which also made them extra quiet. Given the right conditions, he could get the drop on this guy with no trouble.


Alex must’ve thought things were clear. He advanced to the sidewalk and between the homes, neither fenced. He stepped over a child’s plastic trike and other toys littering the joined space as if he knew exactly where he was going.

God, he had balls of brass.

Gabe followed, sticking close to the edge of the home to the north, his weapon aimed and ready. The guy seemed to know where he was going. Oddly, Whisper and Smoke remained quiet. That cinched it. Has to be Alex, the bastard! How could you do this to Kelsey! Your wife!

Gabe followed less than ten feet behind, his emotions running as high as his fever, until the stealthy man came to a halt at the Stewarts’ fence line. With one jump, he’d be out of reach and next to the dog kennel.

Not going to happen, you lying ass. Gabe closed the distance and pushed the barrel of his weapon between the guy’s shoulder blades before the jerk could make another move.