“You ready for whatever we find?” Nick asked, moving his jacket a fraction to get better flexibility if he needed to pull his gun. His eyes caught on a few people leaving the Laundromat. They stopped at the curb while one pulled out a cigarette.
“Yeah.” She covertly unsnapped the strap from her holster. If she needed to pull her piece, it would be easy. The Laundromat might have had a slightly goofy name, but the fact remained that the Fluff-N-Fold had been interesting to Dunst.
And they had no idea why or what was behind its doors.
“Let’s go,” Nick said, picking up the pace.
They were a block away, moving closer to their target, while keeping their eyes on their surroundings for anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. That’s when Lara really took in every detail of the two men who had exited the Laundromat moments before.
“Wait.” She grabbed Nick’s arm, stopping and turning him to face her. She angled her body so his partially hid her from plain view.
“What is it?”
Lara did a quick mental slideshow of faces from her past.
Recognition flared.
“There,” Lara said, voice dipping low. She nodded to the two men standing in front of the Laundromat. One had a cigarette between his lips while the other eyed a woman talking on the phone on the other side of the street. “I know them.”
Nick coolly turned his head for a better view, knowing not to be obvious. She knew he was cataloging each man’s details.
The one with the cigarette was the younger of the two. Short dreads, a thick brow, and spotty facial hair, he wore baggy dark jeans and a graphic tee with a cartoon woman in a tank top across the front. His body wasn’t lean but skinny. The man next to him was a different story. His stomach extended outward, barely contained by his own shirt. He wore a red beanie and dark, dark sunglasses. Between the two, Lara knew he was the more aggressive one.
“They were a part of the Moretti syndicate,” she explained. “Two low-level lookouts that came and went without making any real noise. Never gave their actual names, just cycled through a list of dumbass nicknames like ‘Beat’ and ‘Snoop.’”
“They weren’t rounded up with the rest, I see,” Nick commented.
She shook her head.
“No. When the bust went down at the Chicago warehouse Moretti was running, they were nowhere to be found.”
“You figure they’re still working for Moretti?”
Lara didn’t think on that too much. Once again she shook her head.
“If Moretti was a big fish, they were a small patch of dirt on the ocean floor. He barely used them when he was thriving. I doubt he’d reach out to them when he’s behind bars. But, that doesn’t mean they don’t know about our buddy Dunst.”
Nick’s lips quirked up into a sly smile. Lara couldn’t deny it was attractive.
“Then why don’t we go say hi?”
“You think they’ll recognize you?” Nick asked. Though his tone was easy she could tell his demeanor had shifted as they walked toward the men. He was getting ready for whatever might happen next. Whether or not the men ran or fought, which were both likely responses. She, too, rolled her shoulders back, gearing up.
“Which me?” she joked. “Undercover me or FBI agent caught on the news me?”
Nick snorted but didn’t have time to answer. Beanie lost interest in the woman across the street and turned back to his friend. He whispered something, and soon both men were looking their way. Dreads dropped his cigarette.
“Looks like they recognize you,” Nick said.
Lara felt her leg muscles tighten. They were about to take off, and her partner knew it. Normally she would have felt excited—ready for a chase, ready for the thrill—but now...the stakes were different. They were higher. This case wasn’t like the ones from her past. Each new move left her tense, each new development left her anxious. The two men and the chase they were about engage in gave her, in no way, any thrills. Being undercover for so long had shattered her self-confidence. Now was the time to get it back.
In unison the two men turned on their heels.
“I’ll take Dreads,” Lara said. “And you—”
A heavy pop pierced the air.
The man she’d just planned to chase tipped backwards and fell hard against the sidewalk.
Nick yelled something unintelligible and threw his weight into Lara, pushing her into the wall of the storefront they’d been passing. Another pop sliced through the air.
Lara watched as Beanie was shot right between the eyes.
“Fuck,” Nick roared, using the hand that didn’t have Lara’s shoulder in it to pull out his gun. Lara shrugged out of his protective hold and pulled her gun out and up, as well. She spun on her heel as Nick shouted something to the bystanders screaming on the street.
Lara wasn’t listening. Her focus had shifted to the once-again elusive sniper, following what she guessed to be his trajectory. Had he been following her?
The buildings around and behind them were all between one to five stories, each varying. Lara mentally pulled up an aerial view of the two blocks behind her, thanks to the map of the surrounding location Cass had blasted to their phones on the ride over. Lara tried to remember which building had roof access. But, then again, the sniper could have easily done it from a window.
She inclined her head up, keeping her gun low. Nick yelled something, but she didn’t listen. Two blocks away someone was standing on a rooftop, an unmistakable gun at his side.
Whoever he was, he must have realized Lara could see him.
He waved.
And then Lara was running.
“Sniper, roof,” she yelled back to her partner as an afterthought. Her hands were firmly around the grip of her gun, her eyes on the figure in the distance. The unknown shooter hadn’t readied his gun on her but instead squatted down out of sight. Most likely breaking it down for an easier escape.
“Lara,” Nick yelled after her, but she didn’t stop. She needed to catch the son of a bitch who kept taking out their leads. Was the sniper the top of the food chain or just an enforcer for the person at the top? So many questions flooded her mind as she tore down the sidewalks, yelling at bystanders to move out of the way and get back inside.
Why people were rushing outside with their phones in hand after shots were fired was beyond her.
The sniper was out of view still as Lara made it to a five-story, decrepit apartment building. An internal war quickly waged within her. She hesitated. Which way would the sniper try to flee? Coming down the apartment’s internal stairs or elevator and leaving through the lobby would be the easiest but, then again, most obvious. What would Lara do? She ran around to the alleyway to the left of the building.
The fire escape.
Hesitation gone, she ran to the middle of the alley to the ladder. It hung halfway down, forcing her to put her gun back in her holster and jump for it.
“Come on,” she wheezed out, an inch too short to grab the bottom bar.
A clattering made her pause. She looked up through all of the metal to see her perp rushing down the escape. From her vantage point she couldn’t make out any details. Or if he had the gun with him.
A surge