Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He pushed on until a familiar sight brought a smile to his lips. Palais Garnier. The Paris opera house. Known to the world for its opulence as well as the legend of the Phantom of the Opera. Now there was a place he’d always wanted to climb. It couldn’t be too difficult to scale the massive building in a short time period and then hide out among the statues or even use the rooftop entrance to sneak into the enormous building. There had to be ample places for him to comfortably hide for a couple of hours. Maybe even catch up on some sleep. Afterward, he’d head to another of Paris’s many train stations to get out of this country.
As he passed an alley, a massive hand reached out and snagged his arm, pulling him off balance. He stumbled, trying to jerk free of the hand, but it only sent him careening into a wall. He rolled around the wall, struggling to keep his feet in the alley as he tripped over bits of trash and uneven concrete. The hand’s owner stepped close and gave him a shove, pushing him over so that he landed on his ass.
Breathing hard, Soren looked up to find a large man standing over him. A woman in skinny jeans and a black tank top walked to stand next to the man, her bright red mouth twisted in the ugliest smile he’d ever seen.
“Allô, petit kitty cat,” she said. With her hands on her narrow hips, she bent at the waist to grin at him. “I bet you didn’t think we would find you so quickly.”
“What? Who are you?” Digging his heels into the concrete, Soren pushed, inching slowly backward to put more space between him and his new companions. His gaze darted from the woman to the frowning creature who looked as if he were more craggy mountain than man. Even his face looked more like rough-hewn rocks than skin and bone.
His new “friends” followed him inch by slow inch deeper into the alley and away from the busy street. Moving away from the safety of onlookers probably wasn’t a good idea. These people didn’t look like they’d grabbed him with the intention of helping him.
“Where’s the hard drive?” the man demanded. His voice was low and deep, sounding like two boulders rubbing together. Or maybe it was just the grinding of his teeth.
“What hard drive? Who are you? What the hell do you want with me?” he demanded. His heart was not getting the chance to slow. He’d gone from the unexpected discovery of Angel at the train station to the run to a French gruesome twosome who knew about his prize.
“My friend is not going to ask again. Give us the hard drive, or we will kill you and take it from your dead body,” the woman replied. Her merciless smile never wavered as she spoke casually of his murder.
Soren started to answer, when movement behind the woman caught his eye. The words got stuck in his throat when he saw Angel step into the alley, panting heavily and glaring at the two people glaring down at him.
Unfortunately, the big guy noticed his attention drift and looked over his shoulder at Angel as well. He barked something in French at him, but he didn’t quite catch it. Probably telling him to run along.
Soren wanted to laugh when Angel rolled his eyes at the back of the man’s head, but the sound never left him. Angel pulled a gun with a suppressor from under his shirt, and with a practiced ease, he placed a bullet into the man’s head and then the woman’s. She never even had the chance to react.
“No one steals my fucking paycheck.”
“What the—”
Angel lifted his eyes to Soren’s sweat-covered face, a look of deep annoyance in his eyes. “This would have been easier for everyone if you hadn’t run,” Angel complained. He stepped toward him with the gun in his right hand still out. He reached under his shirt and pulled out a second smaller gun. He pointed it at Soren’s chest and frowned.
“Wait! Let’s talk about this!” He held up one hand, trying to scramble to his feet, but Angel was only a few feet away. There was no way the shot was going to miss him.
“You had your chance to keep this simple.” Angel pulled the trigger and there was an answering puff of air. Soren squeezed his eyes shut, muscles painfully tensed as he waited for the horrific tearing feeling to rip through his chest.
A sharp pain cut deep into his arm, but nothing like getting shot. Opening his eyes, he looked over to find a dart sticking out of the meaty part of his biceps. A dart?
Fuck. A tranquilizer dart. For some reason, this didn’t seem better than getting shot in the chest or head.