his uninjured leg, both hands clutching his chest.
Deckard assumed a boxer's stance. He was about to go to work.
“Wait!” Nadeesha shouted at him. “The Stux is starting to take effect.”
“The what?”
The financier staggered back to the ground. He looked as he was having a heart attack.
“Succinylcholine,” Nadeesha informed him as she picked up an empty syringe from the floor.
As their target squirmed on the carpet, Deckard looked back and noticed her nakedness. He pretended not to note that she was perfectly endowed in all the right places.
“It is a paralytic, but he wasn't about to sit still for me to stick him in a vein so I had to put it in the muscle. The drug takes longer to kick in that way.”
Finally, the Arab went still. The room suddenly began to stink.
“Son of a bitch,” Deckard cursed. “He had a jumper in the door.”
Deckard looked back, making sure he looked her in the eye. For just a moment, he saw it. The hard case was gone and he saw what she looked like when she was scared. It had been a close call.
“Pack your shit,” Deckard ordered. “We can peel out of here tonight. It will take the authorities a while to put this together if they do at all.”
“Okay.”
The female operative didn't bother with a bra and threw on a white button down and then a pair of black slacks from her suitcase. Deckard just tossed whatever was laying around into their bags. Her make up, her hair dryer, his deodorant, he didn't care what ended up in what suitcase. They were packed in five minutes and out the door. They left the corpse in place, resting in his own filth. Nadeesha made sure she policed up the empty syringe though.
They left the hotel without checking out. Halfway to the airport, Deckard zeroed out both of their cell phones and dumped them into the trash along with the syringe. He winced as he tore the cardboard sheaths off his forearms and chucked them into the garbage with the knives. Nadeesha got on her tablet and made sure their reservations were confirmed for their flight out. She checked them both in before they dumped the rental car and walked into the airport.
Two hours later they were in the air, catching the red eye out of Dubai. Landing in Italy, they split up and took separate evasion routes. Nadeesha bounced around for a few days in Africa. Deckard flew to Bangkok and went overland into Cambodia where he dumped his married passport and reverted to his single passport. From there, he caught a flight to Indonesia, and then on to Madagascar. Finally he booked a flight back to Mauritius. Nadeesha got a flight from Kenya and landed on the island the morning that the news broke in major international television outlets that someone had been assassinated in a hotel in Dubai.
The suspects were still at large and Dubai was cooperating with Interpol and other international organizations to compile evidence. A week later it was clear that the trail had run cold in Europe.
9
Physical training with Liquid Sky put Deckard in a world of shit. He was a hybrid athlete as necessitated by his lifestyle. As the leader of a para-military mercenary unit, Deckard led from the front, often doing body weight routines and kettlebell workouts with the Kazakh mercenaries in the gym, ruck marches with fifty pound packs, and five-mile runs in full combat equipment.
Liquid Sky took masochism to a whole new level.
At dawn they dived into the ocean for a swim. Deckard was a strong swimmer, but the former SEALs were like fish as they cut through waves that knocked him back and forth in the water. Bill took them out past the breakers and then turned around to head back to shore. Deckard was the last one to the beach. Even Ramon, their former Special Forces member, was out in front of him.
Washing up on shore, Deckard jogged across the beach and up to Bill's bungalow to catch up. They were already spotting each other as they cycled through on the bench press.
“You're up,” Rick told him just as
Deckard assumed a boxer's stance. He was about to go to work.
“Wait!” Nadeesha shouted at him. “The Stux is starting to take effect.”
“The what?”
The financier staggered back to the ground. He looked as he was having a heart attack.
“Succinylcholine,” Nadeesha informed him as she picked up an empty syringe from the floor.
As their target squirmed on the carpet, Deckard looked back and noticed her nakedness. He pretended not to note that she was perfectly endowed in all the right places.
“It is a paralytic, but he wasn't about to sit still for me to stick him in a vein so I had to put it in the muscle. The drug takes longer to kick in that way.”
Finally, the Arab went still. The room suddenly began to stink.
“Son of a bitch,” Deckard cursed. “He had a jumper in the door.”
Deckard looked back, making sure he looked her in the eye. For just a moment, he saw it. The hard case was gone and he saw what she looked like when she was scared. It had been a close call.
“Pack your shit,” Deckard ordered. “We can peel out of here tonight. It will take the authorities a while to put this together if they do at all.”
“Okay.”
The female operative didn't bother with a bra and threw on a white button down and then a pair of black slacks from her suitcase. Deckard just tossed whatever was laying around into their bags. Her make up, her hair dryer, his deodorant, he didn't care what ended up in what suitcase. They were packed in five minutes and out the door. They left the corpse in place, resting in his own filth. Nadeesha made sure she policed up the empty syringe though.
They left the hotel without checking out. Halfway to the airport, Deckard zeroed out both of their cell phones and dumped them into the trash along with the syringe. He winced as he tore the cardboard sheaths off his forearms and chucked them into the garbage with the knives. Nadeesha got on her tablet and made sure their reservations were confirmed for their flight out. She checked them both in before they dumped the rental car and walked into the airport.
Two hours later they were in the air, catching the red eye out of Dubai. Landing in Italy, they split up and took separate evasion routes. Nadeesha bounced around for a few days in Africa. Deckard flew to Bangkok and went overland into Cambodia where he dumped his married passport and reverted to his single passport. From there, he caught a flight to Indonesia, and then on to Madagascar. Finally he booked a flight back to Mauritius. Nadeesha got a flight from Kenya and landed on the island the morning that the news broke in major international television outlets that someone had been assassinated in a hotel in Dubai.
The suspects were still at large and Dubai was cooperating with Interpol and other international organizations to compile evidence. A week later it was clear that the trail had run cold in Europe.
9
Physical training with Liquid Sky put Deckard in a world of shit. He was a hybrid athlete as necessitated by his lifestyle. As the leader of a para-military mercenary unit, Deckard led from the front, often doing body weight routines and kettlebell workouts with the Kazakh mercenaries in the gym, ruck marches with fifty pound packs, and five-mile runs in full combat equipment.
Liquid Sky took masochism to a whole new level.
At dawn they dived into the ocean for a swim. Deckard was a strong swimmer, but the former SEALs were like fish as they cut through waves that knocked him back and forth in the water. Bill took them out past the breakers and then turned around to head back to shore. Deckard was the last one to the beach. Even Ramon, their former Special Forces member, was out in front of him.
Washing up on shore, Deckard jogged across the beach and up to Bill's bungalow to catch up. They were already spotting each other as they cycled through on the bench press.
“You're up,” Rick told him just as
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