Free SAFE HAVENS: Shadow Masters (A Sean Havens Black Ops Novel Book 1) by J.T. Patten

his suppressed sidearm, shooting James twice in the head. James bucked backwards and slid down the rest of the stairs until he folded dead at the bottom. The cleaner deftly passed him and mounted the remaining stairs to the room where Maggie and Christina lay lifeless. He quickly scanned the scene. Assessing the job was complete, he grabbed the laptop and turned to go.
    As Donald had turned away from the dark man and started off through the backyard, another man emerged from the side of the Havens house running at full speed.
    “Stop!” the man ordered.
    Not looking back and assuming the police were closing in, Donald kept running picking up the pace greatly to gain distance and freedom.
    “Stop or I will blow your fucking head off!”
    This new dark man on the scene gave chase to Donald at an alarming pace. This man knew he could easily put two bullets in the runners back and one in the head even at this fast pace. That, however, would be pushing a favor for his buddy Sean Havens, when he wasn’t really even sure whom he was chasing.
    From his car outside the Havens house, Red had heard a crash. As he unlatched his gun to investigate further, he heard the all too familiar popping that was never a good sound in his profession.
    He was heading to the garage door to punch in the codes Sean had given him so he could enter the house. With two digits hit, he heard abrupt grating sounds and muffled voices in the back yard. Racing around the house, he saw a man running through the yard and pursued him.
    Now gaining speed with his powerful muscular legs the fleeing boy was within reach.
    A police cruiser with lights flashing sped down the street with another coming from the opposite direction no doubt to cordon off the area. Havens was his buddy, but not so close of a friend that he would risk being shot by authorities while in pursuit of an unknown assailant.
    Red quickly tossed his firearm into the bushes just off the sidewalk and lunged towards his unsub. He slid down the legs of the runner, catching a heel in the jaw, but held strong to the pants and toppled the runner who loudly hit his face on the pavement with a thud and a scrape as teeth met coarse concrete.
    Police cars screeched to a stop where the men lay on the ground panting. Guns drawn, “Freeze! I want arms out, palms up!” they shouted.
    “It’s cool; I am government, Special Agent. I am a friend of the Havenses’. Just saw this guy running after I heard shots fired. I pursued.”
    “Get up and walk over to the car slowly. I need to see some ID.” Another officer with a gun pointed at the man said, “Hands on the car, what’s your name?”
    “Red. I mean Trevor Peterson. My Federal ID is in my shirt.”
    The other officer had instructed Donald to get up. Donald complied but was not speaking. With his mouth bleeding and his broken teeth left on the pavement, Donald Hayes was handcuffed and roughly shoved into the back of the police car with a forceful kick to his hip before the door slammed shut.
    The squawk box on the police radio was informing officers of the gunshot victims found in the house with multiple ‘GSWs.’
    Gunshot wounds confirmed . Red pleaded, but with a firm voice of authority, “Please, I need to go to the house and see if they are OK.”
    “Get in the car, we will go around the block and go in the front. If I let you run back you’d likely get shot by the other officers on scene.”
    “Cool. Hey, I need my gun. I threw it in those bushes when I saw you all driving up. Didn’t want you to shoot first ask questions later.”
    “Smart, Fed. Get it and let’s go.”
    “On it.” Red jogged to his firearm and crunched Donald’s teeth underfoot.
    Red knew this whole thing was going to be bad.
    The cleaner peered around a house. Seeing that all was clear, he ran across the street to another row of homes and cut through the back, staying in the shadows. From an area nestled in a high hedge, he made a call.
    “Targets all down. One