Dimitri's Moon (21 page)

“Figures,” he swore.

Shutting the door, Dimitri locked it again and then rolled his drunk, unconscious friend in front of it before placing the near empty bottle beside him, tipped over. Then he moved to the window and wrenched it up enough to slip through. Once out on the shaky balcony, he slid the pane of glass back down. In the dark, he made out two figures below.

Guess I’m going up instead of down.
With a sigh, he began to quietly make his way to the roof.
Did I mention this was going to be a long
night?

As he vaulted onto the roof, he crouched low, scanning for other people. The sound of breaking glass reached him.
Time to go!
The familiar rush of adrenaline poured through him. He stood and scooted along the edge between the buildings. Footsteps on metal spurred him into action. Backing up, Dimitri began to run. At the last second, he launched himself over to the next rooftop. As he hit the ground he rolled, coming up to run to the next edge and clear it. Shots rang out as he jumped from the second rooftop.

Dimitri swore in Greek as he regained his feet and headed for the next building. As he sailed through the air, he realized he’d mis-judged. His fingers grabbed for the edge and his body slammed into the side of the structure.

“Umph!”
I’m getting too old for this!

A sentiment which rang even truer as the mortar beneath his left hand crumbled like rotten wood. His right shoulder screamed in pain as it was the sole support for his body. He might be shorter than most on the team, but he was no lightweight by any means. With a deep breath, he grabbed up with his left and prayed the building would hold. It was not a short drop and there was no telling what littered the ground.

Thankfully, the new spot held and Dimitri drew himself up over the edge.

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“That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Making his way to the roof access door, he turned the handle and groaned in relief when it opened. Heading down the stairs, Dimitri found himself stepping around people sleeping or unconscious in the corners of the stairwell. Harsh, intense voices made him stop and search for another avenue. When the people talking made it around the corner, guns in hand, all they saw were people slumped over. This abandoned building was full of nothing but drunks and strung-out addicts.

Dimitri waited until he could hear their footsteps going up to the next floor before he crawled out from beneath the rank coat he’s been under. Draping it over the still sleeping man he’d swiped it from, Dimitri patted him on the arm.

“Thanks, man,” he whispered.

After casting a look around, Dimitri slipped down the rest of the stairs and carefully made his way out onto the street. Shoulders hunched, the right one still burning, he returned to where all the dancing was still going on. Once there, he flagged down a taxi and went to the hotel.

Eventually, he entered a room on the first floor and groaned when he saw the three faces of his friends. They looked all relaxed and pain free. There was no concern on their expressions, more like amusement.

Ross “Jeb” Connelly threw some clean clothes at him. Dimitri snagged them out of the air and dug in his pocket. Tossing the wad of folded papers to Harrier, he headed to the shower.

“Great job, Merlin,” Harrier said once he’d emerged from the bathroom.

Toweling off his hair, Dimitri responded, “Thanks.”

“You okay?” His CO, commanding officer, questioned.

“I’ll be fine. Shoulder hurts a bit.” He glared playfully at his teammates. “Couldn’t stop ’em
before
they shot at me?” Dimitri teased.

“Oh, we just wanted to see your moves,” Hondo commented lightly, flashing him a grin.

Tying his shoes, Dimitri stopped long enough to look at him and shake his head. “No need to be jealous, old man, you were young once.

Surely you can remember back that far.”

Hondo casually flipped him off. Finally ready, Dimitri got to his feet and rolled his shoulders. Pain shot through him and he did his best to not grimace.

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Aliyah Burke

“You okay, Merlin?” Harrier asked again, this time an underlying command in his tone. One that said not to brush him off.

Damn, forgot how flipping observant he really is.
“I’ll be fine. I should get back to my room.”

“Right. Be safe,” Harrier said.

Dimitri remained silent while going to the door. A glance over his shoulder accompanied by a nod was all he afforded them before he slipped away. As he walked toward his hotel room, Dimitri heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, there you are.”

Mara. He turned with a smile in place as the leggy and scantily dressed brunette sashayed toward him.

“Hey, yourself,” he said. “How’d your…thing go you had to deal with?” An odd look filled her features before it was smoothed away; and he knew if not for being so observant, he’d have missed it.

“Not bad. I had to track down someone afterward; otherwise, I would have been back sooner. You know how it is—you just keep missing one another.” She shrugged. “Anyway, I finally got to see her.”

“Wonderful,” he said as they walked to his door and entered his room. Mara went straight for the small bar and fixed herself a drink.

“Yes, I thought so.” Mara stared at him, the ice bucket beside her with one hand resting on the rim. “I really needed to speak to her, but she’s always so busy.”

Dimitri didn’t give a damn but he could tell she wanted him to ask. “What does she do that keeps her so busy?”

Mara picked up three cubes and dropped them into the waiting glass. The sound was ominous and set the hairs on the back of his neck on end.

“She’s not busy now; she’s staying in Rio for a bit.” Mara opened the whisky and poured herself two fingers. “She’s a fashion designer,” she stated, holding his gaze.

Landi!

Fear slammed into him so hard it nearly floored him. There was a sadistic gleam in Mara’s blue eyes. It required all his training to not visibly react.

“That’s nice,” he commented easily. “I’m sure she’ll relish the time off.” Dimitri walked to a chair and sat down with a moan.

Mara headed toward him. “You okay?”

“I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me. I’ll be fine.

Just a bit tired.”

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“It is late.” She took a drink and placed the glass within reach of his hand. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she asked, “Meet for breakfast?”

“You got it.”

Dimitri escorted her to the door and kissed her. When he was alone in the room he grabbed his phone. He dialed Landi’s number, but never pressed send. With a low growl he threw it across the room to land on the cushion of the chair he’d vacated. No matter how much wished, he couldn’t call her. Dimitri dumped out the drink Mara had made and stared at the door. Anger welled up within him.

“I will rip your head off if you’ve so much as breathed on her,”

he vowed as he headed for the bathroom.

Dimitri was cranky as he slipped into bed. He knew he would receive a call if anything developed with Mara. They had eyes and ears on her.

Saying a prayer for Landi’s safety, he went to sleep. Tomorrow was the planned assassination and he needed to be at the top of his game. The ambassador’s life depended on it.

He awoke to the phone by his bed ringing.

“Hello?”

“
Bom dia
,” Mara’s voice spoke.

“Good morning,” he returned.

“I have to cancel breakfast. There are some errands I have to take care of. Rain check?”

Sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Dimitri said, “Sorry you won’t make breakfast, but yes. Rain check.”

“Great.”

She hung up the phone and Dimitri did the same. Rotating his shoulder, he shook his head as the pain was still there. His cell rang and he reached for it.

“I’m getting ready now,” he said without preamble.

“Great. We’ll have a taxi waiting for you,” Harrier said.

“Understood.”

He hung up and dressed in casual clothing, hiding his gun in the back of his waistband. There was a disarming smile on his face as he moved through the hotel and out the front door. The second he reached the street, a vehicle pulled up and stopped before him. Without a word, he opened the back door and slid in. Hondo drove away and didn’t speak until they were in traffic.

“She’s in the green car, four ahead of us.”

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Aliyah Burke

“Got it.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Will you do something for me?”

“Yes.”

Dimitri sat up and met Hondo’s shade-covered gaze in the rear-view mirror. “If anything goes wrong today, there is a small red box in my locker. Can you make sure Landi gets it? And that the letter gets to my parents?”

Hondo was quiet for a few seconds. “Yes,” he murmured. “I’ll see she does.”

“Thanks.”

They turned onto another street. Hondo maintained his distance and followed the car with the ease of someone who’d done it many, many times before.

“Hang on a second; I think we have a tail,” Hondo announced without slowing down. “I’ll have to move over a street and see if I’m right or not. Keep eyes on the target; we’re taking a detour.”

Dimitri never looked back. He knew the routine. Still, he grimaced as they turned left while Mara’s car took her straight. There was no need to worry, though; Harrier and Jeb were in a vehicle following her as well.

“Yes, it’s on us,” Hondo told him.

With ease, Dimitri withdrew his weapon from the back of his pants. “Let’s find out what they want, shall we?”

Chambering a round, he placed the gun upon his thigh and turned slightly toward the window, allowing him to see out the back as well. At the last second, Hondo whipped into a narrow alley and headed towards the other end. The moment the other car turned in as well, Dimitri turned fully so he could know what they faced.

“I see two,” he informed Hondo.

Hondo slowed the car and muttered, “It’s a goddamn ambush.

There’s one in the front as well. Couldn’t wait until later to do this, could they?”

The cocking of another gun filled the interior. Hondo sighed and Dimitri almost laughed at his attitude. So calm, so matter-of-fact. He was more put out by the delay than the ambush.

“That’s the thing; people are rarely sensitive to our time tables!”

Dimitri leaned out the window and fired at the men getting out of the car behind them. The first fell while the second returned fire, causing him to duck and shield his face as the rear window shattered.

Absently, he heard Hondo taking shots at the other opposing team.

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Without looking up, he fired through where the rear window used to be, then sat up and waited for the man to show his face. When he did, Dimitri put a bullet through his skull, dropping him fast.

Suddenly, Hondo gunned the motor and they lurched forward.

Dimitri had barely turned when their car rammed into the one before them, sending it back until they could get down another side alley.

Then Hondo floored the gas and they tore out of there, leaving the bodies and vehicles behind.

“Where are you?” Hondo spoke to the other team of men.

Dimitri brushed glass off the seat next to him as Hondo accelerated and drove toward the destination. The buildings blew by Dimitri didn’t pay any attention. Instead, he caught the clip Hondo tossed over his shoulder to him. With quick and precise movements, he ejected the empty clip and replaced it with the full one. Gun reloaded, he threw the used magazine back over the seat to settle beside Hondo.

The taxi slowed and Dimitri jumped out quickly, making sure his shirt hung over the gun to keep it hidden from view. He moved into the building and saw Jeb, but never even acknowledged him, going straight to the elevators. Riding it up to the fourth floor, he exited the car toward the stairwell to get to the roof.

Dimitri cracked the door open and peeked out. Nothing. The noise from the crowd below grew, telling him time was running out.

Parades were all well and good, but they were notoriously difficult to keep one hundred percent secure. Gun in hand and a bullet chambered, he slipped through and closed the door as silently as he’d opened it. He couldn’t see Mara, but he knew she was here.

Pressed up against a HVAC unit, Dimitri peered cautiously around the corner. Nothing either way, so he moved to the next one.

When he reached the third unit he saw her. Mara was by the far corner dressed in a tank top and capris with canvas shoes on her feet. She was looking through the scope on her sniper rifle.

Weapon aimed right at her head, he stepped out slowly. “Put it down, Mara.” She tensed but didn’t turn. “Get away from there, I won’t tell you again.”

“I knew you were too good to be true,” she said. “This hit’s worth a lot of money.”

“Who hired you?” he asked, moving closer and not relaxing his guard. There was absolutely no trace of her earlier Portuguese accent, but Dimitri knew it wasn’t American, either.

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Aliyah Burke

Mara looked at him over her shoulder and flashed a grin.

“Someone who no longer wanted the ambassador alive.”

“Take your finger off the trigger, Mara,” he ordered.

She put her eye back up to the scope. “You wouldn’t kill me.

You like me.”

“Not that much. I don’t want to kill you. But I will.” It was true; he really had no desire to kill her.

Mara backed away from the eyepiece and nodded. She got to her feet and moved back from where the rifle sat balanced on its bipod.

She was using a South-African Truvelo .50, a large caliber sniper rifle.

Governments looked upon it as a “heavy sniper” rifle. Now Dimitri knew what kind of accent she had.

“No closer, Mara. Tell me who hired you.”

She rolled her eyes and tsked. “Now, what would that say to potential clients if I squealed? My client list is confidential. You should know better.” Mara glanced over the edge of the roof. “You sure you don’t want in on it? He’s nearing the right spot.”