Ace lowered his binoculars and idly ran his hand over the small, flesh-colored bandage on his neck that he’d finally been able to switch to instead of the larger white gauze from earlier. The cut seemed to twitch right along with the excitement sluicing through his veins. Time for payback. He scooted back down the ridge that overlooked the farm below. He rubbed his aching shoulder. Stryker was going to pay for that bruise. And Cyprian would pay for the rest. But not yet. Right now he had an appointment with Hunt and Hightower, two more people on his list. Too bad he hadn’t brought a rifle. He could have taken them out with two quick shots as they’d run naked from the cornfield to the back of the barn. No worries. He had plenty of firepower. He just needed to get closer. He stood and jogged to his reliable, beat-up Chevy that no one ever paid attention to. The perfect car for assignments like this.
