The target stepped out of the car, the door held open by one of the bodyguards while the other walked ahead up the narrow path leading to the front door of the brownstone. The glow from the streetlight accentuated the deep lines in his tanned face, making him appear older than in the photograph. The man’s gaze swept up and down the street as if he sensed something out of place.

Back pressed against the rough wall, I remained frozen where the shadows swallowed me up in the alcove between two houses. I wore nothing that would reflect the light—dark clothes, a hood over my head and a mask shielding my face. The morning was cool and dark, dawn still a few hours away. My gaze remained on him as I mentally confirmed he was the man I wanted.

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