Page 66 of Hit Man
“Look,cabrón. Stop screwing around and listen.”
“Hang on. Five jumps is all I need to descend Notre Dame cathedral.”
This guy is unbelievable. I make a grab for his toy but quicker than the assassin on his iPad, he snatches it out of harm’s way. “All right, you shyster,” he reassures me, clicking the game off and tossing the iPad onto the seat next to him. Then he arches an eyebrow at me. “What now?” he asks.
I feel theVin my forehead deepen because he didn’t ask, “What happened?”
The bastardknows.
“Ya valió madre,”I mutter beneath my breath. “Hayden already hear my news?”
“Don’t know. I was ordered to Mexico City but haven’t reported in yet. Been busy watching Mendoza’s boys running around with raging hard-ons for someone named Diego ‘Rodriguez.’ Guess your cover’s gone caput?” my counterpart says with a zing.
“That’s putting it mildly.”
McDuff chuckles.
I scowl, not liking the fact that he stands to benefit from my failure.
We’ve got this love-hate relationship going. Ever since Paris, where he beat me to my last target, Kylie Smith. It took a hell of a lot of preparation on my end tracking my fellow mercenary. She sold TORC secrets. Hayden put a hit out on her. Yet the fact that McDuff located her first still rubs me the wrong way. And now he’s in Mexico City . . . working my assignment . . .
How long ago did Hayden bring the Irishman in? Or worse, has Shamrock been here all along? I straighten my legs and run my hand across the hairs on my chin. I need a shave and a drink, maybe in the reverse order. “What’s the news from Acapulco?”
“I’ll share if you’ll do the same.”
“Deal,” I grind out.
“Fahder arrived in Acapulco to oversee the gun transaction.”
Tell me something I don’t know.“He still dressing in dresses?” I respond, raising my eyebrows at the tight-lipped Irishman, as if to say,Try a little harder at sharing new information.“And he’s hired Los Lobos to watch over the warehouse while he makes the transactions.”
“Boss told you.”
I grin, halfheartedly.
“Did he also inform you Fahder is expediting the weapons exchange from Acapulco after hearing news about the Wild West show his son has put on? How he’s more suspicious than ever now that two spies who know too much are on the loose?”
“Mierda,” I mutter.
“Mierdais right, mate. However, at least we’ll find out sooner rather than later where the shipment is headed.”
I grit my teeth until I’m calm enough to ask, “Any idea if Mendoza has traveled outside Mexico in the past months?”
“Your man. You should know.”
I roll my fingers into a fist, willing myself not to send it into McDuff’s smug face.
“I was preoccupied with flushing Fahder out of his home and lost track of Mendoza for a few weeks,” I admit.
“For feck’s sake, Fahder’s been ranting about an explosion. You blew up his house, didn’t you? I should have known.”
I shrug.
“As far as I’m aware, Mendoza’s been in Mexico. Busy being a fame whore, or so Fahder is fond of saying. Why ask?”
“Just curious,” I smoothly reply.
“Bullshit.”
