Zack (In the Company of Snipers Book 3) by Irish Winters Page A

Marty was lost again as he stared past the fork in his hand. “I really helped this one. Didn’t I?”
    “You sure did.” Zack thumped his back gently. The old man didn’t get much encouragement on the streets. A kind touch from a friend meant a lot.
    “I remember something else, now you mention it. She had something in her little mitt.” He dug down deep into his dirty shirt pocket and handed a small item to Zack.
    Zack held it up to the light. It was an ordinary, black, four-holed button. “She had this in her hand when you pulled her out of the trash?” He turned the button over before he stuck it safe inside his own shirt pocket.
    “Yeah. She looked like a little prizefighter with her hand all clenched up in a fist, kinda like she was ready ta punch me in the nose when I found her. Poor little squirt. Darn near forgot about it. Guess I shoulda gave it to the cops, I reckon, huh?” Marty looked expectantly into Zack’s face. The soup was gone, along with the sandwiches and pie.
    “You ready to get back to the shelter, my friend?” Zack asked.
    “Not yet.” Marty stared at Zack, waiting and hopeful. “I might meet up with some guys. They might need some help. You know how it is.”
    Marty sounded a lot like Jake, always working an angle if it meant there was the smallest possibility of a drink in his immediate future.
    “Like I said, you’re a good man. You ever need anything, and I mean anything, you give me a call, okay?” With that, Zack tucked a couple of bills into the old man’s shirt pocket along with his business card. “Where’s that nice warm coat the police gave you?”
    “Ahh.” Marty’s eyes roamed around the diner while he patted his pocket. “I’m thinking it’s around here somewhere. You know how it goes in my line of work.”
    Marty’s line of work, as he put it, was a hard way to live. Who knew where the coat was by now? Hopefully, he’d spent at least one warm night in it. “You hang onto my card, and call me, okay?”
    Marty nodded. “You bet I will.”
    Zack motioned for the waitress one last time, sliding a couple large bills across the counter to her. “Will you get my friend here another piece of pumpkin pie, ma’am? I’d be much obliged.”
    “Sure, mister. Pumpkin pie, coming right up.” She beamed at the generous tip.
    “Well, shucks now.” Marty smiled a crooked grin, for the moment just a mischievous old man, up to no good and proud of it. “Ya didn’t have to do all this.”
    Zack stood to leave. “It was my privilege, Marty. You’re my friend and friends take care of each other. I’ll be waiting to hear from you. You be sure and call.”
    Marty was already licking his lower lip like a kid at the Thanksgiving table as he pulled the fresh plate of pie toward him. Zack left him with a fork full of pumpkin and whipped cream in his mouth and a gleam of contentment in his eye. As the diner door clanged shut, he glanced back at the man who’d saved little Zhen Ting’s life. Marty would be chasing after a bottle before the day was done, but for one night and to one little girl, he would always be a hero.
    Zack shivered as he hit the remote to unlock his pricey ride. The sleek black horses reminded him once again that he had it all, while right behind him sat a man who had nothing. Hopefully, Marty would notice the almost brand new leather bomber jacket now hanging on the back of his chair. It might be a little large for the old fart, but Zack hoped he’d at least get one night’s warmth out of it. A hero deserved a helluva lot more.

NINE
    Mei searched online for The TEAM, looking for a way inside. Surely it listed job openings and maybe an online job application, at least something to get her inside the fancy building in Alexandria long enough to steal an ID badge, or whatever they used. The well-designed homepage flashed onto her screen in brilliant red, white, and blue.
     
    The TEAM
    Covert Surveillance
    Owner and CEO
    Alexander B. Stewart
    Ex-Marine