Better the Devil You Know

Chapter Two - Anthony POV

Armed with the fresh intel that it was likely our target was the female occupant of apartment 4A, Ranger and I decided to call it a night. It was doubtful that we'd learn anything more by staring at her closed drapes all night, and the best way forward was for us to put together a plan to infiltrate her digs. There was a chance that she could vanish on us during the night, but we didn't have the man-power to keep a twenty-four hour watch on her. No, concocting a solid plan of action, grabbing some food and getting a little sleep was the best way to go.

The hotel Ranger had picked was way over on the better side of town. Let me put it this way, it was expensive enough for the doorman to ignore the way we were dressed and the duffels we were carrying when we got back. Room service also didn't seem to mind that I wanted a medium steak at 4am – yeah, that kind of place.

The suite had two bedrooms – which wouldn't be a problem as long as one of us didn't go picking up chicks. Ranger was a total player where women were concerned; the ink hadn't even been dry on his divorce when he'd run off to the nearest bar and then jumped into bed with some cheap bottle blonde, but I was pretty sure that he wouldn't go dicking around on an op. It was safe to say that he could get any woman he so desired, but I hoped that he'd at least leave the female population of Phily alone until this job was done. The mere thought of having to listen to Ranger doing some chick made me feel ill.

Room service had just arrived as I stepped out of the shower; my steak, a couple of bottles of beer and a salad; the salad was not mine. Maybe Ranger was not actually my brother, but an alien who needed chlorophyll from plants to survive, hence his constant consumption of salad leaves…

I slouched down on the couch in nothing but my towel, balanced my plate on my abs and attacked my dinner, all the while watching Ranger out of the corner of my eye. Yeah, the alien theory could hold some water.

He caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

I stifled a giggle and coughed. "Nothing, man."

Ranger frowned. "Why are you looking at me funny?"

"Who, what, me?"

"Anthony," he growled.

I smiled sweetly and went back to eating my medium rare steak and homemade fries, but shoved the side salad to the edge of my plate.

After a couple of beats of silence he spoke again. "You wanting that salad, bro?"

The piece of meat in my mouth went down wrong and I coughed, spluttered and thumped myself on the chest a couple of times, and nearly lost my dinner on the floor in the process. "Who the fuck are you, man?"

Ranger looked confused.

I gestured at the salad. "It's just not effing normal, dude; enough with the extreme salad consumption. You are an alien, aren't you?"

The poor guy looked hurt. "I like salad."

"Yeah, but where's the steak that goes with it?"

He looked at his salad and then at my own meal and grimaced. "That stuff'll kill you, bro."

"I doubt it. A shark attack or nasty paper cut from counting all my money, maybe. But death by steak, no. Besides, I'm a growing boy and I need the protein."

"Ass," he muttered as he finished off the green stuff that was totally devoid of a dressing or, heaven forbid, a crouton, and pulled the op folder off the coffee table.

"How do you think we should play this?" I quizzed, deftly switching topics to avoid a full scale cussing match between the pair of us.

Ranger shrugged. "Keep watch on the place, and if she leaves, one of us tails her while the other does a little B & E."

I mulled over his suggestion. "You think she's got an alarm system or other such goodies? I'm wondering if she might be a little on the paranoid side, you know."

"Point taken; so what do you suggest, Anthony?"

"I have no idea. The government file states that it wants information on who exactly she is working for, and they want her bringing in alive at all costs. I'm telling you, this is totally off. Why are they going to so much trouble over what looks like a low level mob hit-woman? You know what I think? That there's more to this and her than meets the eye. Maybe I need to put out a few feelers, see if anyone knows who she really is."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "There is definitely intel missing. Whoever she is, I doubt she's connected to anyone legal. You got any underworld contacts that I don't know about?"

"Not outside America, and something tells me she's not a local."

"Terrorist? IRA?"

I snorted. "Try freelance mercenary, bro."

Ranger grabbed a beer and took a long pull. "Definitely no B & E until we know just what's on the other side of her front door. Maybe we could try a honey trap, I could pick her up in a bar and gain access to her apartment that way."

I looked at Ranger and rolled my eyes. "Dude, if she is what I think she is, she'll take one look at you and run an effing mile. You like scream bad ass military shit and you'll just end up spooking her and we'll get nowhere."

Poor Ranger looked affronted. "Fine, so what the fuck are we going to do?"

"I'll be the bait."

"Right… like that'll work, Anthony."

"I'm a chameleon, I can like, blend. And unlike you, I don't give off black ops vibes. Look, let me give it a shot, and if that fails we'll just maintain contact and send Lester in once he's sorted himself out. You know he could have her out of the door and be in her bed within five minutes."

"We're not using Lester now, next week or even next month. He is just too unstable to be let out on an op. You better start channeling his mojo or something, bro, or we're gonna need another plan," Ranger muttered.

I felt slightly sorry for my brother right now, but only slightly; like last night, he was stuck on the roof of the opposite apartment building watching Derval/Bailey's place in case she went out, and it was totally pouring it down. I also felt a little smug as I got to sit in the nice warm, dry truck a block away.

It was nearing nine pm and so far the comms had been quiet; obviously nothing doin', and she was still at home. With a sigh, I shoved my seat back as far as it would go, and propped my feet up on the dash board. For all we knew she could spend the next damn week staying in and watching the TV.

We didn't know anything about the woman, or the usual type of guy she went for; shit, she could have been a lesbian for all we knew, so I'd gone for the ratty, frayed surf bum look. Most chicks found it quite cute, and it had worked pretty well for me in the past. I looked non threatening, harmless almost, and despite the row I'd had with Ranger, I was also unarmed. Shit, it wasn't like I actually needed a gun or a knife to kill someone, and the last thing I wanted was for her to find any of my weapons and freak out on me. I had a suspicion that she'd be a little on the cautious and jumpy side with anyone she didn't know.

Half an hour later and my ear piece buzzed to life. "Target on the move - heading east on twenty third street on foot."

"Got that, I'm moving out."

The plan was for me to follow on foot and for Ranger to then take the truck. We hadn't found any details of a vehicle registered to her, and if she did have one, it wasn't close to her apartment. In case she did have a car, Ranger would be following and he'd pick me up en route. Simple – hopefully.

I hopped out of the truck, pulled the hood of my top up to keep off the worst of the weather, and jammed my hands in the pockets to keep them warm. I kept my head down and tailed her from about fifty yards away – close, but not too close. I didn't want her to even know I was there.

The plan worked, and after a couple of blocks she slipped inside an Irish bar on the corner of the street. Ranger had just pulled up about a block away, so I jogged over to the truck.

"I don't want this," I said as I handed him my ear piece.

He took the tiny devise and tossed it on the dash. "You're a fucking idiot, brother."

I grinned. "No, it's too damn obvious and I don't want to be made. If she gets suspicious she'll bail, and both her and her apartment will be empty before we can even blink."

"We don't know that," he growled.

"What would you do if you thought you were under threat?" I asked.

Ranger sighed. "I'd bail."

"Exactly. Wish me luck."

"Here," he said as he handed me a couple of condoms. "Just in case."

I ran my hands through my dreads and shook my head. "What time's my curfew, dad?"

"Fuck you," Ranger grumbled.

"Yeah, and I love you too, man," I grinned as I took the packets and stashed them in my wallet.

I took off across the wet side walk at a jog, dodged a couple of puddles, pushed open the door to O'Malley's and tugged my hood down. What a dive. The place stank of stale Guinness and sweat; the single room was badly lit and in serious need of a makeover and every set of eyes in the place turned to look at me as I walked in. Nice. My military training automatically kicked in and I had to fight the strong urge to reach for a nonexistent gun that should have been at the small of my back. I was well outside of my comfort zone; give me some despot hell hole any day of the week.

My target was at the far end of the room, back to the wall at a booth, almost invisible in the gloom, and she was with a couple of scary looking guys that both made me reconsider my choice of leaving my weapons in the truck again. I negotiated my way to the bar, made eye contact with the bar tender and ordered a Jameson's. The patrons all watched me warily, though no one approached or tired to make conversation. Even the drunk at the end of the bar was watching me with suspicion.

I surreptitiously glanced around again and realized that Dervla was the only woman in the place. From the animated and angry looking conversation she was having with the two men, I suspected that it was business and not pleasure that had brought her in here.

After ten minutes of nursing my whiskey, she finally came over to the bar to get another drink and I got my first real good look at her. She was short, maybe 5'3", with really long black curls that grazed her ass, and dressed from head to toe in black. Black battered para boots, black tank top and custom looking black bike leathers. I'd bet a months earnings that the plates inside the jacket and pants were uber thick Kevlar that would stop a round from a .44 Magnum. Yeah, she was one pretty cautious and paranoid bunny.

The only touch of color was her pale skin and bright green eyes. Dervla wore no makeup; she was pretty enough without it. Despite the three concealed guns I'd managed to clock so far, and the air of menace that cloaked her, she was quite a hottie. Let me be blunt; it wasn't going to be a chore to jump into bed with her.

She spoke Gaelic with a thick Irish accent to the bar tender, slapped some money on the bar and then glanced over in my direction. "What the fuck are you looking at?" she growled.

Unphazed, I shot her my stoned smile, dimples and all. "Wow, you like have the most, like totally green eyes ever, dude."

She blinked and rapidly scanned me from head to toe. "Was that a compliment?" she asked cautiously.

"Like totally," I replied as I smiled again.

"Oh. Thanks, I think."

I held out my hand. "Anthony."

Dervla looked warily at my hand; like it would bite her or something, and after a few beats she accepted it with a firm shake. "Dervla."

"Wow, now that is one totally awesome name, babe."

She shook her head. "Are you lost?"

"Huh?"

"You won't find any good waves around here, mate."

I frowned. "Guess I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere then."

"Yeah, I'd say that. Anyway, if you'll excuse me-"

And then it all went to rat shit. The atmosphere in the bar changed abruptly, Dervla stiffened and her hand inched towards the small of her back as she turned around to watch the entrance, and the bar man reached under the bar for something. Why couldn't Ranger have just waited in the damn truck?

My stupid brother scanned the room and its occupants, strode up to the other end of the bar and motioned the bar tender over.

"I'll see you around, Anthony," Dervla said quietly as she eyed Ranger with suspicion.

I reached out suddenly and put my hand on her arm. She flinched, but thankfully didn't pull a weapon on me. "You okay, doll?" I asked.

"Peachy; just gotta go see a man about a dog."

I glanced down the bar at my brother and then back at her. "He like your ex or something?"

She shook her head and took a step towards the door.

"So like, what's got you so rattled then?"

She stared at me, her eerie green eyes boring into me. "It's nothing, I just have to go."

"Let me walk you out." And before she could protest, I linked my arm through hers and pulled her towards the door.

We hit the street and she hastily tugged her arm free. "Good night, Anthony."

Shit, I could not let her walk away. I took a deep breath, berated Ranger for forcing my hand like this and channeled my inner Lester. I stepped up to her, bent down and kissed her fiercely. Any second now she was going to pull away and unleash a ton of fury on me, but I couldn't think of what else to do.

Actually, the serious hurt I was expecting never happened. Instead, she kissed me back and tangled her hands in my dreads, holding me in place. The kiss deepened and after what felt like an eternity, we broke apart, both breathing heavily.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," she whispered.

I smiled. "Sorry about that, I've wanted to do that since I saw you at the bar. You okay?"

"Oh yeah."

"Look, you want to go to another bar that's not full of scary blokes and get a beer?" I asked.

Dervla looked me up and down, bit her lip and then smiled coyly. "Maybe we could skip the beer part?"

My wolf grin spread across my face. "I can go with that."

"Your place?"

Like that was part of the plan. "Sorry, not wise. I'm staying on the other side of town."

"What the hell are you doing over here then?"

"Someone recommended the place to me, but I think that they must have got the name wrong."

She shook her head. "O'Grady's; Irish pub for the tourists. So, just what exactly brings you to Phily?"

"Work."

"Work?" she pressed as she studied me intently in the sparse light.

"Yeah, got a few meetings with some clients."

"What do you do, Anthony?"

In that split second, I decided on the partial truth. "I'm an investment banker."

Dervla let out a bark of laughter. "Right, yeah pull the other one mate; it's got bells on it."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I muttered.

"If you're an investment banker, then I'm the queen of Sheba."

I stood up straighter, held out my hand and put on my best board room voice. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, your majesty."

"No way…"

I nodded. "And what do you do?"

She paused, blinked a couple of times and then answered. "I'm a cleaner."

Yeah, one who's cleaning products of choice were a gun or a knife. I resisted the urge to laugh and channeled my blank face. "Fair enough, so which way to your place?"