“Abduction?” I leaned back and thought about it. That explained why the squad hadn’t taken any good shots at her. “What for?”

“These people aren’t all like you, Owen. Most of them don’t care the why or what of it. They want the money or the hunt. They don’t ask for a reason.” He shook his head. “You’re a rare card.”

“Who put the job out?”

“It came from Marcus.” Roger narrowed his eyes. “I don’t deal with human trafficking. Nasty business. A good clean kill is one thing, selling a person is another fucking matter. But since it came from Marcus the word got back to me.”

“Why her? Why this woman?” It didn’t make sense. The connections weren’t adding up and I didn’t believe in coincidence. Had Marcus turned on me because I’d taken Ava under my wing?

“Not sure. The job was for the American. She wasn’t to be hurt, which isn’t too unusual. Either they want her as a hostage or a slave.” He cocked his head to the side. “You have her?”

“Does it look like I have a woman tucked in my pocket?” No reason to give up any information that I didn’t have to.

“Owen, you’ve always been an odd fit for this job. You still have a heart and most people kill theirs before they reach your age. If you have that woman, you better get her out of the country.” The kettle whistled and he stood up to fix the tea. “The game has changed.”

“How much has Marcus offered?” I stood up and stretched. It had been a long few days.

“Forty thousand for the girl.” He smiled up at me. “But for you, he had to make it worth it, didn’t he? People aren’t going to go after Owen Walker without good incentive. No, for you, he’s offered up five million.”

“I need some ammo.” What the hell was wrong with Marcus? Why would he set such a high price on my head and then not send a larger squad to mum’s old house?

“Well, that I can get you, my boy. That I can get you.” Roger led me to a room in the back of the house, his tea forgotten. The room was lined with racks of gun parts and boxes of ammo. I rubbed my hands and smiled at the old man.

Some men liked gadgets, but I was all about the guns. The smell of the gun oil and hot metal was an aphrodisiac. And the two forty-five millimeter Springfield XDs sitting in the corner were giving me a hard on. I walked over and took them off the wall and gave them a thorough run down. Roger didn’t sell shit, but you never took a gun without looking it over.

Roger cackled as he watched me. “You always did like the shiny things.”

“These.” I set them down on a table. “Do you have anything smaller?”

“For the woman?” Roger opened a cabinet and pulled out a smaller version of the guns I had picked up. “Nine millimeter. Subsonic ammo.” He tossed me a box of bullets and I set them on the table next to my gun.

“Do you have any burner phones?”

“How many do you need?” Roger opened the drawer of a work table and pulled out two packages.

“That’ll do.” I grabbed a bag from the floor and tossed my items in.

“Meh. Take this too.” Roger sat a knife and more ammo down.

“What do I owe you?”

“We’ll talk after you get this straightened out.”

“Five million dollars puts a big target on my head.” I watched him carefully. “I might not get it straightened out.”

“Always been a bettin’ man.” He slapped me on the back. “I think you got a good race in you still.”

“Thanks.” I headed back to the front door and stopped to pet the dog. He barely moved. “You need a better guard dog.”

“Bah. He’s never been a guard dog. Too fat like his owner.” Roger opened his robe and showed me the Desert Eagle in a shoulder holster. “This is my guard dog.”

“That’s a lot of gun, old man.”

“Get outta here before I decide to show ya what I can do with it.”

“Be safe.”

“Be smart.” Roger slammed the door behind me, but I could still hear him laughing.

I slid the rucksack over my shoulder and headed for a take-away place. Once I had enough food, I headed back to the hotel. I’d been gone for two hours already and would bet Ava was getting fidgety.

I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door before using the key the desk had given me.

“It’s me.” I opened the door slowly, but didn’t see her at first. She was on the other side of the room, her gun pointed at the door. She’d picked a good spot to take out someone walking in the room.

“Where the hell have you been?” She didn’t lower the gun as I walked in and closed the door. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

“I had to see a friend.” I held up the Chinese take-away. “I brought food.”

“If you didn’t get chicken lo mein I’m going to shoot you in the foot.” She narrowed her eyes and I frowned.

“I got lo mein.”

“Okay then.” She lowered the gun and walked over to me. She snatched the bag out of my hands and started unloading the contents on the little table. “I used some of the soap from the bathroom to clean the table off, so I don’t think we’ll die from Staph or Salmonella.”

“Thanks.” I set the rucksack and other bags down on the bed. It was odd coming back to someone. Weird to know she had been busy while I was gone; to have someone to talk with as I ate. “I got some clothes. I had to guess at your size.”