Page 61 of Shadows Relived
Luckily, his SUV fit right in with all the other vehicles, something that looked like it belonged. He had already backed it into the alley, engine cold but ready. Callen adjusted the earpiece tucked inside his collar and slipped out from behind the car he was hiding behind without a sound.
The alley was damp, smelled faintly of aged oil from delivery trucks and gardenia from a nearby florist. He crouched near the fire door, input the code, and heard the dull click of the old lock disengaging. Easy so far.
He didn’t enter right away, though.
Instead, he pressed his shoulder to the brick wall beside the door and listened, timing his approach to the rhythm inside. Through the vent, he could hear Harrington’s familiar baritone, deeper now, slightly slurred with bourbon. Talking about stocks and land deals. There was a mention of Florida that caught Callen’s ear, but it passed.
He let the conversation go on for another three minutes before checking his watch. 9:54.
The senator would wrap up in under five. It was his routine, and Callen loved people who stuck to a routine. Always heading home by ten.
Now or never.
With a deep breath, Callen slipped inside.
The hallway was dark, with one sconce flickering uselessly above an exit map. His boots barely whispered against the tile. He moved ghostlike, back in his element, heart a hammer behind his ribs but hands steady.It had been years since he pulled a solo op like this, but muscle memory didn’t forget.
He turned the corner, and there he was.
Roger Harrington. Standing at the far end of the corridor, one hand adjusting the cuff of his blazer, the other tucking a half-finished cigar into a brushed aluminum tube. Then he muttered something about forgetting his lighter as he patted his jacket pocket, oblivious to his surroundings. The driver stood off to the side, scrolling on his phone, completely unaware of the senator heading his way. Harrington sent his aide to have the guard fetch the car, and then headed for the back door.
Callen made his move, head down, posture loose, slipping a face mask in place. Just as the senator stepped into the side alley, straightening his coat as if he had been sitting for hours instead of minutes, Callen struck. The senator’s expression flickered when he saw Callen, but not from recognition. Not yet.
“Senator,” Callen said evenly.
Roger stiffened. “I don’t take meetings here. Who the hell are you?”
Callen didn’t answer as he grabbed him, a firm grip, one hand pinning the senator’s wrist, the other locking across his chest as he shoved him the rest of the way out the door and steered him toward the waiting SUV.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Callen shoved him at the waiting door. “No time for questions.”
The senator thrashed but couldn’t break free. He was older, softer, and startled.
“Keep your damn voice down, or this goes bad for both of us real quick,” Callen growled.
The senator fell silent, struggling more with indignation than fear. Callen popped the SUV door, shoving him inside the passenger’s side of the vehicle, and slammed it shut, before jumping into the driver’s seat. They peeled away from the curb seconds later.
“You’ll regret this,” Roger barked, still twisted awkwardly in the seat.
Callen said nothing. Not yet.
They passed the city limits before he turned off the road into a dense copse of trees. Only then did he finally kill the lights and throw the SUV into park.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached up and peeled the latex half-mask from his face, followed by the cap and hoodie.
Recognition hit the senator like a gut punch. “You,” he breathed.
“Me,” Callen said. “The man you sent to protect your daughter from a threat. You just didn’t tell me you were the threat.”
“You’ve lost your goddamn mind, McHollister. Do you have any idea what this stunt will cost you?”
Callen didn’t flinch. “The only thing I care about is Meaghan. And someone tried to kill her. Not capture her to use against you. No. Kill.”
Roger stiffened. “That’s why I told you to bring her to me in D.C.”
“But you’re not in D.C., are you?” Callen’s tone sharpened. “Then maybe you should’ve told New Horizons. Because they’ve got mercs trailing us, armed tothe teeth, and someone’s throwing around a lot of money to make sure your daughter doesn’t live long enough to talk, and the funny thing is she doesn’t even know what she’d say.”
