assistants helping out.”
Assistant was another term for contact, or liaison. They were a chosen few who worked with the Royal Elite, doing all the underground work the rest of them didn't have time to do. These were men who could go unnoticed and disappear in a crowd. Faceless, nameless, unmemorable. Unlike most of the royals or elite, who were often hounded by media everywhere they went.
“Good. Call me if you see anything suspicious,” Chayton said, and signed off. He pulled up a different screen on the phone as the elevator whooshed to a stop, vacating the carriage at a brisk walk. Following a GPS locator attached to all the Elite member's phones, Chayton left the hotel by a back door, crossed through a parking lot, and let himself onto the street.
Breaking into a jog, he followed the illuminated path on the tracker toward Leander's position. He judged the distance to be approximately two blocks, give or take. A natural runner all of his life, Chayton had little trouble navigating the streets and intersections, and wasn't a bit out of breath when he rounded the last corner, coming up on Leander's flank.
Roughly six foot, wearing clothing the color of shadows, Leander looked like any other casual pedestrian out for a stroll. Brown haired and lean, the long time member of the Royal Elite might have escaped Chayton's notice if he hadn't known where Leander would be.
“What's the update?” Chayton asked, scanning the sidewalk ahead. He didn't see Penelope anywhere, but knew Leander had a bead on her regardless. Tall buildings sat on either side of the street, some containing upscale residences, others commercial business. Most of the structures had lights attached to the facade, creating blue, red or lavender hues that spilled out over the sidewalks and roadways.
“She's on the other side of the street, walking with her head down, about a half block up,” Leander said.
Chayton picked out the approximate spot ahead, and located a slim figure moving at a fast clip. Parked vehicles at the curb obscured her from view periodically, which meant he needed to keep a close watch so she didn't duck into an alley or building and disappear.
“Got her,” Chayton said. “Anything I should know?”
“Yeah. There's been a silver sedan with black windows that has cruised by three times. I'd bet my next paycheck that someone's about to make an attempt to snatch her right off the street.”
“Fantastic,” Chayton said. “Any news about Anton come back?”
“Not yet.” Leander paused, then suddenly darted into motion. “Chayton!”
Already on the move, Chayton was one step ahead of Leander as they both broke for the street. He only got one glance along the lane to make sure it was clear of cars and then he was running, boots pounding the pavement. Leander, running just as hard, veered away to come in from another angle.
What set both men off was the quicksilver abduction that came not from a car, but from a narrow alley between buildings. One second Penelope was there, another she was not. A small, feminine yelp faded almost as fast as it peaked.
Chayton hit the opposite sidewalk, his body protesting the abuse after the beating he'd taken at the hands of the traffickers. No matter. His body would heal.
Taking the corner three steps ahead of Leander, Chayton saw several struggling shadows perhaps thirty feet ahead. A burst of commotion warned Chayton that he and Leander had been seen. He didn't slow down; the element of surprise was already lost.
“Stop, don't come any--”
Chayton ignored the threat. He made quick work of the distance, knocking a length of pipe from one man's hand before delivering a roundhouse punch. The man went straight down, a heap of unconscious flesh. Leander was on another, fists flying. Chayton engaged two more men, a flash of gray and white in periphery nearly distracting him from his adversary.
Penelope was on the run, shoes slapping over the alley asphalt. Taking her quickly away
Assistant was another term for contact, or liaison. They were a chosen few who worked with the Royal Elite, doing all the underground work the rest of them didn't have time to do. These were men who could go unnoticed and disappear in a crowd. Faceless, nameless, unmemorable. Unlike most of the royals or elite, who were often hounded by media everywhere they went.
“Good. Call me if you see anything suspicious,” Chayton said, and signed off. He pulled up a different screen on the phone as the elevator whooshed to a stop, vacating the carriage at a brisk walk. Following a GPS locator attached to all the Elite member's phones, Chayton left the hotel by a back door, crossed through a parking lot, and let himself onto the street.
Breaking into a jog, he followed the illuminated path on the tracker toward Leander's position. He judged the distance to be approximately two blocks, give or take. A natural runner all of his life, Chayton had little trouble navigating the streets and intersections, and wasn't a bit out of breath when he rounded the last corner, coming up on Leander's flank.
Roughly six foot, wearing clothing the color of shadows, Leander looked like any other casual pedestrian out for a stroll. Brown haired and lean, the long time member of the Royal Elite might have escaped Chayton's notice if he hadn't known where Leander would be.
“What's the update?” Chayton asked, scanning the sidewalk ahead. He didn't see Penelope anywhere, but knew Leander had a bead on her regardless. Tall buildings sat on either side of the street, some containing upscale residences, others commercial business. Most of the structures had lights attached to the facade, creating blue, red or lavender hues that spilled out over the sidewalks and roadways.
“She's on the other side of the street, walking with her head down, about a half block up,” Leander said.
Chayton picked out the approximate spot ahead, and located a slim figure moving at a fast clip. Parked vehicles at the curb obscured her from view periodically, which meant he needed to keep a close watch so she didn't duck into an alley or building and disappear.
“Got her,” Chayton said. “Anything I should know?”
“Yeah. There's been a silver sedan with black windows that has cruised by three times. I'd bet my next paycheck that someone's about to make an attempt to snatch her right off the street.”
“Fantastic,” Chayton said. “Any news about Anton come back?”
“Not yet.” Leander paused, then suddenly darted into motion. “Chayton!”
Already on the move, Chayton was one step ahead of Leander as they both broke for the street. He only got one glance along the lane to make sure it was clear of cars and then he was running, boots pounding the pavement. Leander, running just as hard, veered away to come in from another angle.
What set both men off was the quicksilver abduction that came not from a car, but from a narrow alley between buildings. One second Penelope was there, another she was not. A small, feminine yelp faded almost as fast as it peaked.
Chayton hit the opposite sidewalk, his body protesting the abuse after the beating he'd taken at the hands of the traffickers. No matter. His body would heal.
Taking the corner three steps ahead of Leander, Chayton saw several struggling shadows perhaps thirty feet ahead. A burst of commotion warned Chayton that he and Leander had been seen. He didn't slow down; the element of surprise was already lost.
“Stop, don't come any--”
Chayton ignored the threat. He made quick work of the distance, knocking a length of pipe from one man's hand before delivering a roundhouse punch. The man went straight down, a heap of unconscious flesh. Leander was on another, fists flying. Chayton engaged two more men, a flash of gray and white in periphery nearly distracting him from his adversary.
Penelope was on the run, shoes slapping over the alley asphalt. Taking her quickly away
Similar Books
Learning
Karen Kingsbury
The Last Confession of Sherlock Holmes
Kieran Lyne
Birthdays Can Be Deadly
Cindy Bell
Old Men at Midnight
Chaim Potok
Craving Flight
Tamsen Parker
Tempo Change
Barbara Hall
This Old Souse
Mary Daheim
Rain Music
Di Morrissey
Waking Kiss
Annabel Joseph