Quinn replied, "He's got a few questions for you later but they haven't been able to identify the guy at all."

"Good."

"They found an abandoned car on the mountain and suspect it was his but haven't proven it yet. Hopefully that won't tell them more than you want them to know. I didn't ask if you guys could leave town. Might've sounded suspicious coming from me."

Riley sat on a swing beside Jordan. "Good point. Don't need his permission anyway. We're staying for courtesy, but not for long."

Chloe asked, "Is it important to get to this Thomas guy quickly?"

Jordan said, "Sort of. He'll want to hear from Jake, but we've got his phone and can pretend we're him to some degree. But that might only work for so long."

"That reminds me," started Riley, "Thomas thinks you were holding off until today. And Jake is supposed to do it today. Have you heard from Thomas?"

She dug her phone out of her jeans to check. "We should look at Jake's phone, too, and maybe stage some communication from both of us."

Riley said, "I had a thought. It'll be best if he thinks we're both dead and Jake is alive. What if you send some fake texts saying that you're in position or something. Then we'll send more texts from Jake's phone suggesting he's ready to take us both out. Then we'll wait a bit, send more texts from his phone saying the job is done, we're both dead."

"Yeah, but Thomas will want proof, meaning photos."

"We can stage those."

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "How?"

Turning to his sister, Riley said, "You're pretty good at putting Halloween makeup on all the neighborhood kids. Think you can do some fake bullet wounds and blood?"

Chloe pursed her lips. "Not sure. Depends on what you have in mind. Close up photos won't be the best thing."

"We can avoid that. How would photos look?" Riley asked Jordan.

She frowned. "They'd be fairly close. But we could claim that Jake heard someone coming and had to rush out and didn't get better photos. If asked."

He squeezed her thigh. "Good. Chloe?"

"I can try. I don't know what realistic bullet wounds look like, though."

"I'm sure we can find some photos online. I a.s.sume that's better than me describing it to you. If we can fool Thomas into thinking we're both dead, he'll never see us coming."

"Where are you gonna stage that?" Quinn asked. "Your house is off limits."

Riley turned to Jordan. "Does he know what my house looks like? If we do the photos here instead, would he know?"

She replied, "Only the outside. He'd never know interior pics aren't from over there. And we could always pretend, between my text and Jake's supposed ones, that we're doing the job here anyway. You know, claim everyone's left here for the day but you, so it no longer mattered, and you went into this house or something. He may never ask. I doubt he cares. Never did about details before."

"Great. Let's get started. What do you need, Chloe?"

She looked dubious. "Need to think about that."

He got to his feet, Jordan rising, too. "We need breakfast so we're gonna plan this out while we eat. Let me know if you need help with anything." Seeing his sister's apprehension, he said, "Don't worry. Everything will be okay."

She squeezed his hand. "It's a lot of pressure. Your lives are riding on it."

"Not really. It just gives us an edge."

The snipers went inside and spent the next half hour making breakfast side-by-side, cozying up, exchanges kisses and feels, and generally being playful despite their next activity being faking their own deaths. That caused a few laughs and jokes about this being their last meal and if each other had any final requests, to which they both knew the answer. He made them omelets with cheese, cubed ham, tomatoes, cilantro, and mushrooms, while Jordan focused on jam covered toast, coffee, and a bowl of cut fruit for each. They fed each other as if their lives didn't depend on what happened next.

Jordan hadn't felt this good in forever and only today realized she'd been living her life with everything vital shut down for survival. She'd sort of known before, the way things lurk in the back of your head, but sometimes you get so used to something that you don't really notice anymore. Her impending "death" coincided with the sudden rush of life into her from Riley, as if she'd truly died and awoken anew. Once the staged photos were sent, the man who'd been controlling her life since she was sixteen would be gone. She'd had no way of knowing that executing the man who murdered her parents would lead to this life. That death had been meant to bring her some peace, some sense of justice, and closure, but that had been immediately buried by the trouble she'd found herself in. A new life with new enemies, new wounds, and new restlessness.

She'd considered the likelihood of being caught before getting her revenge for her parents, but she never could've foreseen these results. She'd a.s.sumed prison at the worst, unless the terrorists caught her, in which case she'd been ready to end it all rather than be some s.e.x slave. For all that those terrorists acted like they were the sword of G.o.d, they knew nothing about respecting women. Or any life. She'd never regretted killing the pig. He'd deserved it. She'd probably done the world a favor.

And that's something she'd tried to tell herself every time she'd killed for Thomas, but she had to ask him about it first, to make sure. And here she was with the guy she hadn't asked too much about as part of the new agreement with Thomas, and Riley certainly didn't deserve to die. The time had come to do herself a favor, instead of the world, and cut herself free. The moment those photos were sent, she was out. She could visit her family after all these years. Get a life. A new future. Any future.

She felt positively giddy at the prospect. And very grateful to the man before her for giving her this. Even after she'd tried to kill him. She owed him everything and had every intention of providing him with exactly that. And she knew he'd help himself heartily. The thought made her wet between the legs.

As they cleaned up, Riley said, "Time to set up Thomas instead of him setting us up."

"Sounds perfect," she beamed, getting out both phones. They resumed their seats at the kitchen table, pulling up Jake's phone first. There'd been no contact. Riley initiated it now, pretending to be the dead sniper partly by mimicking what he'd seen of Jake's texting style.

Jacques: What's the story?

Thomas: Let me tell her to head there. Get ready.

J: K. What then?

T: I'll tell her to do it. Be ready when she goes in for photo J: K.

T: Wait for my signal J: K.

Riley waited a moment for any further messages, but the next one came on Jordan's phone, from Thomas. She picked it up, feeling chills and a simmering anger. She let out a breath so she didn't reveal any unexpected emotion to the guy trying to kill her.

Thomas: Where r u?

Jordan: Hotel T: Head to target J: What about #2?

T: Have intel. Go ahead w #1. Will send intel after J: K.

T: Text when in position. Do NOT fire yet J: WTF? Whatever T: Behave. Remember our deal J: I'll honor it if you will T: ETA?.

J: 1 hr T: K.

Jordan put the phone down, having given Thomas some att.i.tude just because it's what she normally would've done. "I'm really looking forward to killing that a.s.shole."

Riley squeezed her close and she leaned into him. "Me, too."

"I call dibs."

Riley chuckled. "Okay. I get the other guy, the one who hired Thomas."

"Deal." She sealed it with a kiss.

A text from Thomas appeared on Jake's phone and the Marine picked it up.

Thomas: She'll be there 1 hr Jacques: On the way T: Will text when she's taking shot J: K.

Before long, Chloe returned from a party store that seemingly sold Halloween-type stuff year round. They did some makeup tests and looked at grisly photos for reference. Chloe experimented on both of them. By now, Kris had arrived and seemed a little less negative about Jordan, who she seemed determined to feel out more by being around her. Kris' eyes hardened and her lips flattened into a line the moment she saw the obvious signs of the two snipers being an item, but she said nothing.

As they got started applying makeup, Jordan said, "s.h.i.t. Just realized something."

"What?" Riley approached.

"My clothes. This isn't what I'd wear for a job. Thomas will know it, but you ripped off what I was wearing. I don't have replacements."

He sighed. "Okay. Maybe we'll just use a headshot for you. Will that work?"

"Maybe. You still have my mask? We can put that on me and then lift it up as if he bared my face after killing me, to take a photo."

"Hmm," Chloe began, "that would mean the bullet went through the cloth. When he pulls up the mask, it'll smear the blood. I'd have to put the makeup on you, then we carefully put the mask on to not smudge it, then lift it up and let it smudge a little on purpose. And it might not look right anymore, since it isn't real."

"s.h.i.t," Jordan swore, "you're right."

"Let's try it, first," suggested Riley.

He sent Kris to the barn to get Jordan's mask, which she'd hidden there with the ruined clothing, and by the time she got back, they were making progress. It took two makeup tests, with photos taken with Jordan's' smartphone and loaded to a computer for inspection on a bigger screen, to get it right. Since Jordan was a good sniper, they gave Riley a head wound at his temple. First Chloe applied an adhesive and let it get tacky. Then she put some wax on that, shaping it right, including using a pencil eraser to create the center depression of the bullet hole. Liquid latex helped everything stay in place and smooth the edges toward his skin. Then it was time for makeup and to repeat the process for Jordan, above the left eye.

Another problem was determining how much blood should have pooled around their heads on the hardwood floor from an exit wound they weren't going to show, and how to make that realistic. Some internet research turned up a good recipe using water, food coloring, cornstarch, corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and powdered cocoa. They dabbled some of this on Jordan's a.s.sa.s.sin's mask. Then they gathered in the living room to stage the photos.

"This is a little too close to home," Kris remarked in disapproval as she gazed at the wound on Riley.

Jordan pursed her lips, having not thought of the visual's impact on his family. While she understood Kris' att.i.tude, she was also getting tired of it. She didn't need any extra tension and wanted to tell Kris to knock it off. That she could be p.i.s.sed some other time. There was work to be done. At least Kris was upfront about the att.i.tude, but Jordan knew getting an att.i.tude of her own wouldn't help her here. She decided to tackle this head on.

She approached her and looked her in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what else to say or do."

Kris frowned. "It's gonna take more than that."

"Name it."

Kris let out a breath through her nose. "I don't know. Maybe nothing. And now's not the time."

Jordan nodded. "That's fair." Since there wasn't much else to say, she stepped away and began, "Before we do this, I want to transfer the money Thomas paid me, just in case he can somehow get it back from my account after he thinks I'm dead and won't notice."

Riley chuckled at the phrasing. "Where are you gonna put the money?"

"I have other accounts I can use." She paused and gave him a look. "Maybe I should give half of it to you, since he paid me to, you know..."

Riley c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Interesting. Not sure I want it. Blood money, likely from a terrorist."

Jordan nodded. "I understand, but it can be useful. At the least, you can donate it to charity or something."

"Good point. Let's do that."

"Okay. Let me transfer it to you and then we can do that later, after the mission."

"Wait," said Kris, "that's going to cause some scrutiny you'll want to avoid."

"The donation?" Riley asked.

"No," she began, "a deposit of that amount. I have an MBA, remember? I know you can't just do that without people looking into where it came from, meaning scrutiny on Jordan. And you."

"Oh that's right. I remember," Jordan said.

"Remember from what?" Kris's eyes narrowed.

Jordan made an apologetic face. "The file on Riley had some info on all of you." Seeing Kris look even more annoyed, if that were possible, she added, "Sorry. Again."

"What else did it say about me?" Kris folded her arms.

"Not much, including why you have an MBA when you work with horses."

"Because I make sure all the businesses we run are up to snuff."

"Smart."

"I know."

Giving compliments wasn't going to get her anywhere, so Jordan took out her phone and got on with transferring all of the money to another of her accounts. One million dollars, half of it a down payment for Riley, and half for the second target, which turned out to be herself. "You know, if I play this right, I could get another half million from him for finishing the job on you."

Riley laughed. "And here I thought we were getting along so well."

She smiled. "I mean we stage the photo of you and I send it with my phone, telling him to deposit the money. Once he does, I confirm receipt and that's the last text from me. I transfer that money, too. Then we'll act like Jake shot me while I was doing that, and take the pic of me with his phone."

"Clever," Kris acknowledged, wryly adding, "I'm not the only one who knows how to run a business, it seems."

"Are you sure you want that money?" Quinn asked sternly.

Jordan needed money to start a new life, though she already had a decent amount. "I think the important thing is to take the money from Thomas, more than us having it. It's another half million he could use on someone else."

"He'll never get the chance," said Riley, "but point taken. Let's do it."

"First," began Jordan, "let me tell Thomas I'm in position. Grab Jake's phone."

"Ready," said Riley, stepping beside her with it in hand. He leaned on the arm of the living room couch beside her. She pulled up the messenger app and sent an initial text to Thomas.

Jordan: Ready Thomas: Wait J: How long?

T: Couple min J: K.

Moments later, a text appeared on Jake's phone, with Riley answering.

Thomas: She's ready. R u?