"Yes?" Barry picked up his phone and whispered his reply, as clear as possible without really disturbing the silence of the night. The call had to be balanced on his shoulder, so his overall propped position was remained unchanged. Both his hands returned gently on the handle of the sniper rifle which barrel hovered on the stone he sat behind. The target has been fixed, on their car, parked down the hill, in the parking lot of a closed mall; inside was the dark silhouette of someone holding the steering wheel.
It felt only normal to end this charade with a type of gun he has been used to at the marine scout sniper post. Lightweight, the black Vanquish .308 Win was what Barry found trustworthy; the higher ground and the distance, as well as his black attire in the night, were creating an almost eerie peace, which could only get irritated into an irk by the fact he mindlessly answered a call he should not have.
"Barry, where the Hell are you?" Sally's voice came in his ear, already relaxed to the silence of the little nature around and Adelaide's calm breathing besides him, where she insisted to be for this ordeal. "I know you don't like me and I get that, but Gene needs all of us in these tough times for the theater class...," Sally gradually started yelling so Barry's eyes moved to their corner and begged Addie to get him out of the situation.
"Sally?" Adelaide mouthed, though very little sound escaped her lips. He nodded almost indistinguishable, but it was enough for her, already accustomed to the lightless, cloudy and cold night, to pick up. Adelaide brought herself up on her knees and fished the phone from between Barry's shoulder and ear as careful as she could - which was in fact really not that hard with the chirurgical-appropriate small hands.
Before answering anything, Adelaide turned down the luminosity and volume, not just a notch, but almost all the way down, then scrambled a bit further away from Barry's spot, more towards the bushes, so that he could remain concentrated on their plan's functionality. They could not afford any mistakes, because this Mr. Pareja was the real deal. Though they have not looked into it immediately after Addie's close encounter with this individual at the swimming pool in her home town, now that he seemed pestering, a small research revealed exactly who they were up against.
Cristobal had made a very resourceful and scary friend with Mr. Pareja. Though the nature of how a Bolivian mafia leader got to have that sort of man on his friend list, it was a tactically impressive move to have tucked in his sleeve. Mr. Pareja was the sort of man involved with crimes the size of Fargo, a paid assassin with a military background in the private sector, the sort of guy who Adelaide noted her old boss would have considered a "wannabe John Wick".
Barry only knew that he was dangerous, cold and driven by revenge. He fooled the Chechen's, left them broke and now was on the hunt to eliminate everyone involved with Cristobal's death. Even if he took Hank out, one day of rest was enough to realize they were definitely next on the list. There would be none of that on Barry's watch, even if by seriousness, this was the worst he ever had to go against.
He was nervous, but his hands would be slippery if he let himself get sweaty in the chill of the night.
"Hello?" Sally insisted, as for a while she only heard a breath into the speakers.
"Sorry, this is Adelaide. Barry is quite busy right now. We both are, really. So how about you call back tomorrow? Or maybe never, that would be pretty nice of you too." Adelaide adopted a fast speech. Barry had told her, on a run, in the few moments they had for breaks since Halloween, about Sally's indiscretion and though control was key, Addie had to admit she considered making it fully personal and violently putting this blonde woman back in her place, far away from them both.
"Adelaide?" Sally's voice died out from being fired up. If Addie's expectations of Sally have not already been lowered so hard they had their own funeral, she would have been fooled to believe it was guilt sounding in her voice through the phone. "I... I don't know what Barry told you of-"
"Oh, he told me everything." Sally stepped on the mined ground which was Addie's patience and took the blow of a mile radius fury which manifested its blue fire as coldness, instead of heat, ultimately redirected towards her own heart pumping blood.
"Then you must understand that I didn't mean..."
"I mustn't do anything for you, Sally," Addie cut her off, remarkably still calm. Her standing neuron of ration was emerging reminders every second that she needed to be quiet and discreet of this call, not only to not bother Barry, but also to keep their location concealed. "I owe you nothing, while you owe absolutely fucking everything for not walking inside that very night and sending you into the hospital wing filled with little children and shit adults vomiting from too much fucking candy."
Profiling the people on Barry's class was easy for Adelaide after as many lessons as she attended and as many stories as she heard from him. They all fell in a somewhat privileged category of how civilians ought to be unaccustomed and perplexed by even the slightest sign of violence, despite the overall American stigma towards unnecessary fights and wars. Hence, assuming Sally would be frightened by the tiniest bit of obscenity was viable.
"You...," Sally stuttered. "What do you...?"
"You've taken advantage of Barry's trauma enough," Adelaide noted. "You do well and realize you have no right in this context to ask for his forgiveness or mine. Do the healthy and safe thing for you and stop contacting him on purpose. Consider this the only warning you will ever get from me."
Perhaps she was overboard harsh on things, rationally, Adelaide was certain she could never really carry out. But with the end of the call at the touch of her fingertip, at least she had the deep comfort that on a psychological level, Sally would have been startled enough by her words to get the hint and adapt it into her routine. She was a good actress in need of therapy, but as a person around Barry and her, Addie saw Sally as nothing but someone needing to understand there was no more room for extras in toxicity there.
They had enough stress as it was with the Pareja guy.
Adelaide may have broken a real sweat reading over Barry's shoulder what they dug on the guy and realizing that were she one second slower in the bathrooms of the changing rooms at the swimming pool, she would have been dead. It's hard to be considered pretty with a bullet through your forehead.
Though she shivered reminiscing those, Addie made her way back to her original place, next to Barry improvised stand, where as a statue, he blended perfectly in the obscurity of the night. Adelaide tucked his phone in the hoodie she also had from him - it was large and dark, but it also seemed to successfully restore some confidence in the eyes of her man.
"Any movement?" she whispered, but did not get any closer, nor did she look herself over their chosen rock. Adelaide knew when impulsiveness was welcomed and when it would mean certain death. Watching Barry's side profile was not as bad of a view either way; she'd have it any day over squinting her bad sight to see the unlit parking lot.
"None," Barry murmured back, so quiet she had to read the word off the movement of his lips. His pistol grip was steady and the finger ready on the trigger never twitched. He was admirably patient and handsomely serious, as Addie wished she could point out without distracting him off looking through that scope on top.
Adelaide did not add anything else. They have been there for hours already, but she was yet to dare check the clock and allow her brain to realize they were both over their ideal bedtime. Silence was not uncomfortable, but rather relaxing in a calm company. Addie started regretting not pouring some coffee in a thermos for them to stay through the night and see if Mr. Pareja will fall for their trap.
Barry was starting to believe they were waiting for snow in July over there. He lifted his gaze from the scope and simply gazed at the large mall and the parking lots in its shadow. Some part of his brain considered how many times he took Addie to such places and grimaced at this sight. Perhaps he should considered taking her on a date to a real place, like a restaurant or whatever she enjoyed.
That was what he took out this rifle from underneath his bed for again. Once no one wanted them dead anymore, he could finally get the ring, ask her out and live outside of his own daydreaming fantasy where he imagined he'd be doing barbecues, not gunfights with terrorists.
Then he spotted, with the bare eye, movement in another car, amongst the ones who were parked there, because no other residential blocks had affordable vacancies and police rarely cared enough to punish those who broke the law by leaving their vehicles there overtime. "Shit...," Barry lowered back and reached forward to unclip the spiked feet and move the position.
"What? What's wrong?" Addie tensed, mirroring his own sudden change of collected approach.
"He's been in a car all along, watching our trap," Barry struggled to keep low and fix the spiked feet on a new position. Addie came closer and took over that business, so he can look through the scope and see if now he was pointing the right way. "He's not going to get out or get close, he pulled his own rifle out the window."
"He didn't see us yet, right?" Adelaide asked, though a knot almost broke her words in her throat.
"We're safe," Barry reassured her quickly. Adelaide finished propping him well against the rock and leaned back again, at the safe distance he explained. "Thank you," Barry mumbled too, before his expression changed to the maddening look she was familiar to. As he knew back at Batir's not to interrupt her, she was also aware now that it was best to keep quiet and trust that he won't miss his shot if he gets it.
They procured a life sized doll for this whole thing, not because Adelaide did not offer herself to be bait, but because Barry could not risk a loss that great, while risking losing a shot on Mr. Pareja was still an acceptable outcome. Through the scope of his Vanquish, Barry watched Mr. Pareja take aim at their disguised puppet, watching for a moment, centering his shot, then firing, a still loud shot, even with the silencer.
Adelaide flinched. That wasn't Barry shooting, obviously, because he did not move at all. Recoil would have at least had him seem flinching along with her. So Mr. Pareja must have taken a shot at their doll. That would explain the glass shattering brief sound, Addie thought she heard.
"He's turning around and moving too much, I don't have a clear shot," Barry grunted. Missing a shot would give away their position to some like this man.
Then Barry's phone lit up in Addie's pocket.
"Unknown number," she let him know, generally just questioning through her furrowed gaze if she should pick up or not. Barry's hands were busy, so was his attention, but she was not going to take that decision on her own, especially when it was so obvious Mr. Pareja was the one calling. "He doesn't know we're here right?"
"He knows you are somewhere around since that was your car," Barry explained on a leveled tone. He was not allowing himself the civilian liberty of indulging in any emotion in particular. "He can't know our exact position yet. Answer the call and say nothing, just keep him busy so he has a reason to stay and I to take the shot." He continued to wait on the opportunity to arise.
Barry was waiting for the 100% success rate, because one more failure could not be something he'd handle well anymore.
Addie answered the call and place the phone to her ear.
"Put me on speaker," Mr. Pareja told her. He was slowly settling in his seat. Adelaide did no such thing. The night was quiet and even with the sound low, she was sure Barry could still hear key words. Either way, he needn't bother with whatever this wannabe John Wick wanted to speak.
"Adelaide Grayson, born September 29th, 1978. Father, Fred Grayson, found deceased in his home tomorrow. He's been dead for a few days. No sign of break in, just one bullet through the head," Mr. Pareja listed.
Barry heard that and grimaced confused, much like Addie scrunched her nose. Was I supposed to care about that? she wondered, but still, said nothing. "I would kill some of your own family, Berkman, but you have none but the Monroe Fuches who's obviously not an acquaintance considering how quick he was to save himself and tell me all about how you barged in to kill Cristobal. I will end that one too, but first, since I know you are here, should I really kill that writer girlfriend of yours along with every single theater colleague or are you going to man up and fac-"
A bullet was fired and Mr. Pareja's voice was cut off.
Barry's shoulders relaxed. Addie closed the call, shocked and peaked over the rock, only to realize she can't really see shit down there. She looked back at Barry, "It's done?"
"He stopped moving halfway through the conversation," Barry nodded at her. "Want to see?"
Adelaide hesitated. "Actually, yes, please," she shook her head of any shame and scooted over, sneaking in Barry's lap, like many times before, letting him guide the end of the monopod socket on her shoulder rather than his. "Just there," he kissed the back of her head while Adelaide looked through the scope.
While his right hand was still holding onto the pistol grip, his left arm has fallen into the natural position of hugging her close to his chest. Though in another context, feeling genuine relief at the sight of a man's brains being blown onto the whole front seat, but considering how many awful things happened because of Pareja, Adelaide allowed herself to huff a little laugh this time.
"One down, one more to go," she whispered to herself. Her hands were both holding on to the arm he had wrapped around her, when she decided to shift in his lap and turn her face back, just the right angle to land a little kiss on his cheek.
"What was that for?" All of a sudden relaxed, Barry forgot how not to get embarrassed from her adorable display of affection.
"You left the tab open," she spoke after a while of just staring at his face with a little grin on her lips. Before Barry could stutter through his shocked expression, she laughed it off and turned back around, "I like the one with the little swirl thing. Just in case you wanted to know. But don't worry, I'll probably forget about it by the time we will be safe enough for that sort of business. My place tonight?"
His smile was absent; Barry was too deep into his own mind, falling in love for the thousandth time with the same woman, with her.
author's note: barry thinks he's smooth, but he really ain't 💖💕 and really, i love that ok
also, please someone notice that i actually took my time and identified the guns barry used on the show like the Nemesis Arms Vanquish .308W, the Beretta 92 etc etc.. I learnt so much technical shit about guns through this book, I cannot wait to be able to go to the shooting range 😩✋💫