The second book in the Jonathan McGregor series. Fighting the Mob is the first.
Jonathan and Johnson are wanted men after destroying the mafia in New York. Safe passage is offered to them by the CIA but not everyone agrees they fit in, including them.
The two find themselves outcast while going through the motions at The Farm, the training location for all CIA agents, by all the instructors as well as some of the top performing students.
When the chief instructor decides to take matters into his own hands the only outcome is death. The pair find themselves on the run yet again but are they capable of outrunning the CIA?
Brian never served in the military. He had gone to private schools all his life. He went to Yale then straight into the CIA. He had wanted to be the American version of James Bond, women, fine foods, saving the world and being a hero. Boy was he wrong.
Training was rough. Tougher than anything he'd ever been through in his life. Upon graduation from the Farm he was a ruthless killing machine. He was given assignments in Western Europe working as a diplomatic spy.
He was good at his job. He got the details no one else could get. He knew how to identify a mark, work them, and turn them quickly. He was a good judge of people. How they would react in certain situations.
He hoped he was right on this hunch. Not being in the military, he couldn't completely get into Jonathan's mind. He had to use common sense. Sitting outside of Richard Lewis' apartment complex, he pushed a tape into his tape deck.
His voice came over the speakers, giving details about Richard. He was in Marine Recon the same time Jonathan was. He had been stationed in San Diego for two years. Six months of that time Jonathan was in Richard's unit. His job was a field medic.
Richard was discharged from the Corps one month after Jonathan. He moved to New York and became a medic. In Brian's book it all added up. Jonathan had to be here.
Brian checked his watch. It was now 7:25 p.m. Richard's shift ended in thirty five minutes. This was the part he hated the most, waiting. At least he was parked two blocks away.
He began to go over his plan again in his head. After Richard returned from work he was going to head to the complex. He would make a force entry. It should just be Richard and Jonathan inside, but Brian wasn't going to take any chances.
He glanced over at the passenger seat. An M-4 assault rifle was lying on the seat, with two thirty round magazines. Under his shirt was a bullet proof vest with two trauma plates in the front and back instead of just one. It was heavy but would keep him alive if he was shot by Hera.
Time passed quickly. Richard was walking up the street. He looked like the neighborhood, like ****. It was so run down you couldn't throw a rock without hitting a junkie or hooker, the perfect place for a killer to hide, to vanish.
As Richard went inside Brian got ready. He picked up the M-4 and shoved a magazine in, racking a round into the chamber. He put the other magazine in his pant pocket. Quickly he opened the door and got out.
Brian moved with speed and stealth, the rifle pointing down, ready to fire. He opened the door to the complex, moving slow, scanning the area, pointing his weapon up the stairs.
The smell of urine, puck, and liquor rushed him. He gagged, the smell was so bad. He almost threw up but suppressed it as he regained control of his body. He saw a homeless man sleeping on the floor to his right, a bottle of Jack Daniels was still in his hand.
Step by step he climbed the stairs, his back against the wall, finger hovering over the trigger. Apartment 306 was his target. Ten minutes passed since Richard walked into the complex. Time enough for the men inside to relax.
He counted to three before kicking the door open. Rushing in he aimed the rifle at the body standing behind the couch.
"Police! Don't move! Don't move!"
A muffled scream filled the air as Richard's hands flew up. He was naked behind a girl bent over the couch. Her hands were tied together behind her back and a black rubber ball in her mouth, tied around her head. She was terrified, with tears in her eyes.
Richard's hands may have been up but he didn't stop thrusting. He smiled, never taking his eyes off of Brian.
"Where's McGregor," Brian shouted as he moved closer to Richard. "Who," Richard asked confused, still not stopping his thrusting. "McGregor! Jonathan McGregor! Come out here now!"
"If you don't mind," Richard said as he lowered his hands to grab the girl's hips, holding her in place so she couldn't get away as he thrust harder. "I'm trying to **** my girlfriend."
The girl, tears running down her cheeks, was trying to scream, shaking her head no as she cried.
"Shut up *****," Richard shouted, slapping her ass so hard her skin turned red where his hand hit. "Take it like the ***** you are!"
Brian could see she was being raped. He raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. Richard fell to the floor, two rounds hitting him in the right shoulder.
The girl screamed as loud as she could as she quickly fell to the floor, trying to crawl away. Brian stepped back, blocking her path to the door.
"You shot me," Richard shouted, rolling to his left side. "You ******* shot me you asshole!" Brian squeezed the trigger once again, three rounds hitting the floor above Richard's head. "Not another sound or the next one goes in your head. Now roll over onto your stomach." Richard did as he was told. There was no way he could make a run for it. The girl was balled
up in the corner, crying. She wasn't going anywhere either.
Brian took out a pair of flex cuffs from his back pocket. He knelt down and grabbed Richard's right hand, pulling hard, making Richard scream out in pain. He placed the cuffs on him loosely. When he cuffed his left hand, he squeezed down tight.
"Alright *******," Brian said, grabbing Richard's neck, "let's check the rest of the apartment." He pulled Richard up. He pointed the rifle at his back. He turned to the girl, "Come on
sweetheart, you too." She shook her head no. He pointed the rifle at her, "NOW!"