Contract to Kill by Andrew Peterson Read Free Book Online

fence, some kind of tall rectangular structure loomed like a giant tombstone. He diverted to his left, over to the first base side, and found a gate near the dugout.
    As far as he could tell, the SUV and Lexus were at least another hundred yards farther north and east of his position. Aside from the background whoosh of the 52 freeway, it was eerily quiet out here.
    His soggy clothing produced an involuntary shiver. He should’ve grabbed his coat and now wished he had. His work uniform—a black security outfit—offered good concealment, but little in the way of thermal protection. He reached up, wiped the dampness from his bald head, and realized he’d forgotten his cover as well. He never wore the BSI hat anywhere other than work, but he kept a Marine Corps hat in the car for everywhere else. Way to go, Toby. You’re two for two.
    The open space to his left was another baseball field, so Toby decided to use it to angle east, back toward the access road where he could use the cover of some trees. Staying close to the road offered a second advantage. The road appeared to be several feet higher than the ball field, which worked in his favor. If headlights swept toward his direction, he could hide in the shadow created by the difference in elevation.
    At the tree line, he paralleled the same interior road the vehicles had used and advanced deeper into the complex. The smell of eucalyptus hung in the air like fog. It reminded him of his backyard when he was a kid.
    He heard something.
    The clunk of a car door—from his three o’clock position.
    He focused his NV in that direction and saw the Lexus and SUV sitting in the middle of a soccer field. He hopped the fence and climbed halfway up the bank. Since the trees on the opposite side of the gravel road didn’t have low-hanging branches, he stayed where he was.
    Standing next to the SUV, Hahn was turning in a circle and appeared to be scanning the area with some sort of device that looked like—
    A night-vision scope. Shit!
    Toby ducked, praying he’d been quick enough. Hahn had been mere seconds from sweeping past his area. He waited a good ten seconds before risking a look. Hahn was just finishing a 360-degree sweep. The SUV’s passenger got out, and to Toby’s surprise, it wasn’t BSI’s chief of security. It was Darla Lyons, a compact brunette in her midthirties. He didn’t know much about her, but she worked with Hahn and was obviously part of Mason’s inner circle.
    Okay, so who’s in the Lexus? he wondered . Maybe Hahn and Lyons have some kind of fling going. Were they out here for sex? No, that didn’t make sense. Why go to all this trouble when a motel would suffice? One thing was certain, if they had something illegal going on behind Mason’s back, it was more than reckless. You never crossed Tanner Mason.
    For half a minute nothing happened. They just stood there, looking around.
    The interior of the Lexus remained dark as its driver exited the vehicle.
    In a puzzling move, the sedan chirped and its parking lights flashed. Weird. The driver must’ve locked the car. Why would he do that?
    When the man approached Hahn and Lyons, Toby recognized his boss’s commanding presence right away. There was no mistaking Tanner, a.k.a. Skinner, Mason. His long blond hair was always tightly secured in a ponytail. “Skinner” was reputedly a tough-guy nickname or call sign from Mason’s BSI Academy days. Toby had only met Mason a couple of times because BSI’s structure closely mirrored that of the military. Toby reported to a lieutenant who, in turn, reported up the chain of command.
    When Mason reached the SUV, Hahn’s body language changed, like that of a corporal in the presence of a general. Like Hahn, Mason and Darla wore gloves and dark clothing, not the standard khaki garb they usually wore at work. They huddled for several seconds before walking over to the Lexus.
    Toby took a moment to scan his perimeter with the NV. He didn’t think a security