clear. The cameras have been rerouted and are on a loop. All anyone will see from this point on is big dumb guard walking in circles."
I chuckled softly before whispering "Thank you." I hit the ear bud again, muting Dani out unless I needed her. It was against protocol, but it was hard for me to focus if I heard anything in the background that could distract me. It had gotten me hurt on the first few jobs after I started working for Voltaire. Hearing Dani's breathing, or her soft clicks was too much, and eventually we both agreed that muting was the best option for both of us.
I stared at my blurred reflection in the steel of the elevator doors as I put on the black leather gloves. I then reached into the back pack, wrapping my hands around the silenced PK380 and stepped out of the elevator.
Walking directly towards the first big Russian standing against the wall across from the elevator reading a newspaper, I tried to smile at him like I imagined a normal person would. He didn't even give me a second look before uttering in a thick Russian accent, "You have wrong floor."
My smiled fell to a smirk as I kept walking towards him, fully removing the handgun from the backpack, "I don't think I do." I fired two shots in his chest and one between his eyes before he had a chance to look at me. The large man slid down the wall to land on his ass, the paper in his hands propped up as if he was still reading it. It would have looked quite normal if it wasn't for the large red smear of his blood on the wall behind him and the gaping hole in his forehead.
I moved past him, swinging the back pack around my left shoulder and moved down the hall, the smell of blood already filling the air and my nose, making the little bit of nerves I had felt in the elevator disappear completely. I fell into the perfect zone I always did when I started working and I made a mental note to research why the smell of blood had such a calming effect on me at the strangest times. Maybe I could talk to my therapist about it at my yearly psyche exam for the Naval Academy.
Moving silently down the hall, I stopped right behind the second guard. He was also leaning against the wall outside of the shiny black double doors. He was engrossed in his cell phone, watching motorcycle racing videos and laughing like a drunken donkey.
He dropped to the floor on his stomach with one shot to the back of his head right at the base of his skull. Blood and tissue splattering on the leaves of the poor fern plant that sat directly across from him.
I leaned over the body to look at the silver magnetic door lock. A bright red light staring right at me above the card slot. I tucked the PK380 back into the backpack and waited for Dani to give me the green light. Digging around in the backpack I wrapped my right hand around three of the throwing knives that lined the interior. When the light on the lock blinked green, I pushed the door open, startling the third guard carrying a stack of clean white towels.
He fell to his knees, the white towels tumbling to the floor around him as he clutched at the black steel knife lodged in the middle of his throat. His hands scrambling to stanch the blood pouring out as he gurgled from the red fluid sliding down his windpipe, quickly seizing up his lungs.
I didn't give him a second look as I stepped over him, kicking his hand free from my ankle as he feebly tried to stop me. His voice coming out in choked wet garbles, trying to yell for help.
Walking through the large, gaudy black and white marbled penthouse I spun another knife around my index finger, looking for the fourth and fifth guard. I craned my neck when I could hear loud techno music playing, mixed with a few angry shouts coming from a man off to my direct right. Sergei had to be in that room. I raised an eyebrow in amusement, this was easier than I expected.
I swung the backpack on to my shoulders after dropping another knife into my right hand, and proceeded to creep around a
I chuckled softly before whispering "Thank you." I hit the ear bud again, muting Dani out unless I needed her. It was against protocol, but it was hard for me to focus if I heard anything in the background that could distract me. It had gotten me hurt on the first few jobs after I started working for Voltaire. Hearing Dani's breathing, or her soft clicks was too much, and eventually we both agreed that muting was the best option for both of us.
I stared at my blurred reflection in the steel of the elevator doors as I put on the black leather gloves. I then reached into the back pack, wrapping my hands around the silenced PK380 and stepped out of the elevator.
Walking directly towards the first big Russian standing against the wall across from the elevator reading a newspaper, I tried to smile at him like I imagined a normal person would. He didn't even give me a second look before uttering in a thick Russian accent, "You have wrong floor."
My smiled fell to a smirk as I kept walking towards him, fully removing the handgun from the backpack, "I don't think I do." I fired two shots in his chest and one between his eyes before he had a chance to look at me. The large man slid down the wall to land on his ass, the paper in his hands propped up as if he was still reading it. It would have looked quite normal if it wasn't for the large red smear of his blood on the wall behind him and the gaping hole in his forehead.
I moved past him, swinging the back pack around my left shoulder and moved down the hall, the smell of blood already filling the air and my nose, making the little bit of nerves I had felt in the elevator disappear completely. I fell into the perfect zone I always did when I started working and I made a mental note to research why the smell of blood had such a calming effect on me at the strangest times. Maybe I could talk to my therapist about it at my yearly psyche exam for the Naval Academy.
Moving silently down the hall, I stopped right behind the second guard. He was also leaning against the wall outside of the shiny black double doors. He was engrossed in his cell phone, watching motorcycle racing videos and laughing like a drunken donkey.
He dropped to the floor on his stomach with one shot to the back of his head right at the base of his skull. Blood and tissue splattering on the leaves of the poor fern plant that sat directly across from him.
I leaned over the body to look at the silver magnetic door lock. A bright red light staring right at me above the card slot. I tucked the PK380 back into the backpack and waited for Dani to give me the green light. Digging around in the backpack I wrapped my right hand around three of the throwing knives that lined the interior. When the light on the lock blinked green, I pushed the door open, startling the third guard carrying a stack of clean white towels.
He fell to his knees, the white towels tumbling to the floor around him as he clutched at the black steel knife lodged in the middle of his throat. His hands scrambling to stanch the blood pouring out as he gurgled from the red fluid sliding down his windpipe, quickly seizing up his lungs.
I didn't give him a second look as I stepped over him, kicking his hand free from my ankle as he feebly tried to stop me. His voice coming out in choked wet garbles, trying to yell for help.
Walking through the large, gaudy black and white marbled penthouse I spun another knife around my index finger, looking for the fourth and fifth guard. I craned my neck when I could hear loud techno music playing, mixed with a few angry shouts coming from a man off to my direct right. Sergei had to be in that room. I raised an eyebrow in amusement, this was easier than I expected.
I swung the backpack on to my shoulders after dropping another knife into my right hand, and proceeded to creep around a
Similar Books
