Page 1 of Just the Wrong Twin

Prologue

May 28, 2020 - New York City

Nate arrived at Flatiron Five Fitness a couple of minutes early for his appointment. He was too excited about the chance to risk being late. What did Pierce Aston want, and why couldn’t it be discussed over the phone? Nate had no idea, but he was curious enough to make the trip.

His card key to the club worked on the last door in the row of doors on the side street, just as Pierce had said it would. The street was quiet and there weren’t any pedestrians or cars. In a way, Manhattan had become a ghost town during the pandemic. It was eerie to find it so quiet.

It was even more strange to be alone in Flatiron Five Fitness. The club had always been busy with members coming and going, but Nate hadn’t been back since the club had closed for the pandemic. Now, his footsteps echoed on the stone floor of the deserted club. The lobby was lit by late afternoon sunlight and every step made it more clear that Nate was alone. The rock-climbing wall was empty and the phone at the reception desk was silent. The big screens on the wall behind the desk were dark and the building seemed to be sleeping.

He took the stairs to the men’s weight room on the floor below but it was in darkness, too. Nate paused on the threshold, wondering where Pierce was. He had the sense that he wasn’t alone.

“Pierce?” he asked, his voice sounding unnaturally loud.

There was no answer.

He thought he heard a click and flattened himself instinctively against the wall in the corridor. Old training died hard, apparently. But nothing exploded and no one jumped him.

Where was Pierce?

Maybe the older man was running late.

That was hard to believe. Pierce was never late.

Nate peered around the door frame, noticing that there was a cardboard box on the table where members usually signed in to the weight room. He turned on the lights for a better look. The room was empty and there was a bit of dust on the weights.

What was the box? There was no dust on it. Nate took a cautious step into the weight room and then another.

It was addressed to him.

The box had no postage. No markings. No return address, justP. Astonin the top left corner andN. Buchananas the recipient.

What was going on? The hair prickled on the back of Nate’s neck.

The box was sealed but only with a piece of tape. It was like a shoebox, with a lid that covered the whole box and was attached on one long side. The box was oriented so that the other long side was closest to Nate.

He considered the possibilities, then used the tip of his prosthesis to break the tape. He’d been issued two prostheses when he’d lost his right hand, one that looked more like a hand but was pretty much useless otherwise, and the one he called the Hook, which got shit done. He opened the lid with the Hook, only to find a burner phone inside.

He turned on the phone and heard Pierce’s recorded voice.

“I’m looking for a few good team members for Silver Fox Security,” the former SEAL said in his usual measured tones. “I understand you successfully completed the preliminary training for the Marine Raiders.”

That had been the worst part of losing his hand—Nate hadn’t been eligible to continue that training, which was what he had wanted more than anything.

How had Pierce found out?

The older man’s voice continued softly. “Release the captive in room 702 if you’re interested in picking up where you left off.”

Damn straight Nate was interested.

“You have five minutes,” Pierce said and the phone went silent.

There was also a paint gun in the box, loaded with eight cartridges of lime green ink. Nate took both, shoved the phone in his pocket and gripped the paint gun. His heart was already pounding, his adrenaline surging.

This was his mission and he’d chosen to accept it.

There was no way he’d be able to get to 702 without being challenged. He had a good look before leaving the weight room, then moved silently.

The first attacker emerged in the hall behind him from around the far corner. Nate heard the faintest brush of a footstep, spun and took him down with a double-tap. His attacker was dressed all in black like a ninja and the sight made Nate grin. He was at a disadvantage in his street clothes but he’d deal.

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