Chapter Thirty-Seven
Blake
“What’s your ETA?” Sarge’s voice cracked over the radio.
“We’re in position, but negative on the subject.” I glanced over my shoulder at the team behind me. We were in our black gear, covered head to toe in the armor we hoped would protect us from whatever might be thrown our way.
It was a shot in the dark as to which one he snatched next.
“We have a visitor.” Jackson tapped my shoulder and pointed to his nine o’clock.
I nodded and relayed the information to everyone else.
“Black Audi, just entered the parking lot. So far, no movement.”
“Copy that,” the sergeant responded. “Everyone hold your positions.”
A middle-aged man stepped out in a pin-striped suit and checked the time as he pulled out a cell phone and started talking to someone.
“It’s not him,”
