Free Blood Howl by Robin Saxon and Alex Kidwell Page A

any kind. All he could hang his hat on was his professional reputation and a room full of heavy artillery. Really, that was all he needed.
    Being as good as he was at the types of jobs he tended to get handed, today wasn’t the first day he’d left some bodies behind. Those stiffs down by the docks, those were just collateral damage so far as he was concerned. Someone was going to try to kill him? Well, hell, he was going to return the favor, tenfold. Whoever this Fil was, he clearly didn’t realize who he was dealing with if he thought five guys who couldn’t even keep their heads down were going to turn into more than a speed bump for him.
    Redford wasn’t nearly so calm about it though, which was understandable. Redford was innocent, like so few people in Jed’s world ever got to be. And really, while Jed was more insulted at the attack than worried, when he thought of how scared Redford had been, how close he’d come to getting hurt, it wasn’t nearly as amusing.
    Any other time, Jed would try to find some kind of truce, some way of walking away with the least amount of trouble on his part. It was annoying to have to keep killing people. The cleanup alone wasn’t worth the effort. But they hadn’t just come after him. Those bullets, those thugs, they were meant for Redford, and Jed wasn’t going to let that one drop. Fil was going to get the holy hell kicked out of him, and Jed was going to enjoy every second.
    Normally, he’d call his usual cleaners, have them take care of the bodies however they did such things—Jed didn’t like to ask questions. This, though, wasn’t about keeping the seedy underbelly quiet and hidden. Jed wanted to plant a big red flag. Fil was about to get a greeting card, straight from the heart. Five dead goons on the docks, like some perverse nursery rhyme.
    Except they weren’t there anymore. Jed had gone the long way around, duster flapping around his thighs, concealing all manner of illegal weaponry on him. The plan had been to watch, to wait, to see who the first responders would be. Even if the cops got there first, dollars to fat sugar doughnuts said Fil had a comfortable number of them in his pocket. He wouldn’t have been so bold in the attack if not. Whoever took care of the bodies, that was whom Jed got to have a chat with.
    Only when he arrived back at the dock, he almost started to second guess his sense of direction. Everything was pristine, as if it was just another early spring day. No signs of a struggle, no blood, no dead bodies all in a row.
    Whoever Fil was, Jed had to hand it to the bastard. He was fast. Jed honestly doubted even his cleaners would have been finished by now, and they were the best. Squinting from behind a nearby storage unit, he tried to see if they’d missed anything. Something was glinting in the faint sunlight, right out in the middle of everything.
    Right. They just happened to miss something where Jed would be exposed to five or six different decent sniper’s perches. Somehow, he didn’t think Filly boy was that lucky. Instead of taking the bait, Jed turned his attention to the rooftops. Nothing was moving, no hint of anyone waiting. Then again, that was probably the point.
    Spending a few more minutes considering, Jed determined which roof he’d use. A brick storage facility about a hundred yards away gave the best angle and view of the dock area and most access points. Other options were available, sure, but snipers took the easiest route as often as possible. There was enough working against you without worrying about bad wind angles or things blocking the trajectory.
    Quietly, Jed worked his way around to the back of the storage facility. Using a dumpster, he climbed his way up to the roof, unholstering his Glock and moving as silently as he could around the ventilation system. And there was his dance partner. The man was in dull camo, rifle scope resting lightly against his cheek as he scanned the area. He wasn’t moving, ever the