Lying
in bed, Teague got a sudden case of the creeps. He made another
circuit of the house, peeping out the edge of the drapes in the
living room. With the room dark behind him, the moon reflecting off
the water, he thought he saw a person lurking in the shadow of the
dock. As he watched, a lighter flared, barely illuminating the
figure. It was a man with a shaved head. Teague couldn't see details
from his room. He had the impression that the man was solidly built.
The
idea of calling the police flickered through his mind, but he
dismissed it. Instead, he got dressed in dark jeans and a black
T-shirt. He got his survival knife, attaching it to his gun belt.
Next, he got his Glock 22 out of the locked cabinet. He had a license
to carry a concealed weapon. That went in a holster opposite the
knife. As prepared as he could be, he put on his military boots and
left the house by the side door that opened off the utility room. It
was concealed by an arched trellis covered in bougainvillea and
nearly invisible from the street. Chances were, if someone was
watching the front, they were also at the back and the door facing
the side street. He doubted they knew that this other side door
existed. He'd lived in the house nearly a week before noticing it
himself. Leaving it unlocked, he eased through the trellis, the
thorns on the bougainvillea grabbing at his clothing and uncovered
skin.
Ignoring
the stinging wounds, he moved like a shadow through the overgrown
side yard down to the street. He knew he'd be exposed crossing the
street, but the nearest light was almost a block away. There were
deep shadows from the thick water oaks that surrounded his house and
the one next door.
Becoming
part of the night, he took a circuitous route to the dock next to
his, coming at the man from the right rear. His knife was out and
across the unprotected throat before the other man knew he was there.
Left hand held the knife, right clasped his neck in an unyielding
hold.
"Who
the fuck are you and why are you watching my house?" His voice a
menacing whisper.
The
man didn't move, but Teague felt him tense. He was going to try to
get away. The knife blade turned slightly, catching the glimmer of
moonlight along the razor sharp edge. It was the only part of the
knife that shone. The rest of the blade was a dark, matte finish. An
assassin's knife and Teague knew how to use it.
"Give
me a reason," Teague growled.
The
man relaxed. "I've got friends," he murmured.
"I'm
sure you do. But you'll be dead before they can take me out. Keep
that firmly in mind. Now talk."
"Doing
what I'm told," he grunted as Teague's grip on his neck
tightened. "I don't know."
He
hyperventilated as Teague's forearm put pressure on his windpipe.
"Swear
ta God—I don't—know!" He gasped as he collapsed on the
ground. He wasn't dead, just unconscious.
Teague
went through his pockets looking for identification. He had a
driver's license on him. Teague couldn't see it clearly in the half
light, but caught part of the address. He wasn't a local. Memorizing
the face and as much of the name and address as he could, he put it
back. He wondered where the other men were. Had they seen him?
Doubtful, or he'd be surrounded.
He
took his concealed route back across the street, making his way to
his neighbor's yard. He was up and over the high wooden fence in one
smooth movement. Landing lightly on the soft turf behind his garage,
he took another watcher by surprise. This one had the time to make a
faint noise of alarm before Teague knocked him out.
He
couldn't have seen the other man's ID in the murky darkness, but he
searched him anyway. This one was armed. Teague emptied the magazine
into his palm, ejecting the chambered round before tossing the gun on
the man's chest. He pocketed the bullets.
The
first man had mentioned friends. Teague assumed that meant at least
one more. Since he had another door facing the side street, he
figured the third man was probably watching it. There was heavy cover
around it. That would play to his advantage as well. He thought of
the place that would be the most obvious ambush spot and headed for
it. He wasn't disappointed to find a third man standing by the
birdbath under the oak tree, surrounded by a thick stand of ferns,
hibiscus and other tropical plants.
It
wasn't the place Teague would have chosen, there were too many
mosquitoes and noseeums hiding in the undergrowth. He hoped the guy
was getting eaten alive. A slow, feral grin spread across his face as
the man swatted multiple times, grumbling loudly about getting
bitten. The grousing lasted about 20 more seconds before Teague had
his arm locked behind him, his face grinding into the bark of the oak
tree.
"Who
are you?" He snarled low in the man's ear. "I swear, I will
end you and your buddies if you don't talk."
"This
is your place?"
"Why
the fuck would I be here if it wasn't? Talk!" He emphasized the
importance by slamming his thigh against the man's knee from the
rear. A grunt told him that it had connected with the tree. "And
don't give me 'I don't know' like the guy by the docks."
"What?"
His voice rose in volume and pitch.
"How
many are there?"
"Three.
I swear, just us three."
©
2016 Dellani Oakes
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