Betrayal Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
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Maestro covered him as Keys ducked inside the darkened passageway and approached the door that had been built to block entry. Keys held up his hand and then held up two fingers.

Two just inside, but I feel the presence of more. We’re going to have to take them down fast, so the others hidden along the corridor won’t be alerted.

Maestro swore under his breath. It stood to reason that the Billows brothers had secreted their own men inside the tunnel rather than have them patrolling the grounds of the club. The rented security was for show only and to create a distraction if any rescue party showed up.

The second we go through that door, we’ll have to kill them both, Maestro said. Give me the exact position of both men. They can’t have time to get a warning off.

Keys stood in silence for what seemed an eternity to Maestro before finally nodding. One is taller than the other by quite a bit. He’s on the left side of the corridor leaning against the wall. His back is to us. The other is sitting, but I can tell he’s very slight. His chair has been turned partially toward the other man. The one sitting is older, and he keeps moving like his hip hurts. He’s the one I’m worried about. If he moves when we go through the door, you’re going to miss.

I won’t miss. Azelie’s life depends on a clean throw. Maestro was confident because he had to be. This would be the most important throw of his life. He had to make that blade fly true. There was no room for error. He had no doubt that if Billows was sent an alarm, he would kill Azelie. Give me the exact coordinates again. Once I have them, we go in fast. No hesitation. He couldn’t afford for his target to shift positions.

Keys waited, hands toward the door, and then he told Maestro exactly at what angle the guard was leaning. Maestro had already unlocked the door in preparation. He shoved inside and threw three knives in rapid succession. Simultaneously, Keys rolled into the tunnel to come up directly behind the taller guard. He slammed his blade hard into the back of the guard’s neck, severing the spinal cord.

Maestro followed his knives to his target to ensure the man was dead. He was gone, his eyes wide open. Maestro retrieved his blades, wiping the blood on the guard’s clothing. Keys was already moving down the tunnel at a rapid pace but stopping at each door along the way, checking either side. They were halfway to the room where McGrady had died when Keys signaled that the rooms on either side of the corridor were occupied.

Another delay. Another possible alarm for Billows. Maestro shared a long look with Keys. He indicated the door on the left side of the hall. He held up three fingers, bent down and drew stick figures in the dirt, marking the position of all three precisely. He drew them in chairs seated around a small table.

Cards. He circled one of the chairs and the stick figure. I’ll take this one. You take the one on the end. We’ll both go for the guy in the middle.

Three. That would take precision kills. Maestro’s target was the farthest from the door, but he had skills when it came to throwing a knife. He planned out his attack, going through the moves in his mind. It was imperative to take out his first target immediately and hit the second one before he could react. He had to be fast. Very fast. There were men in the room directly across the hall. There couldn’t be a sound, certainly not a gunshot. That meant the men at the card table had to die before they were aware they were under attack.

Once more, Maestro went over each move in his mind before he signaled to Keys it was a go. It was Keys who shoved the door open, giving Maestro the momentum of his throw. The easiest and best results when throwing a knife came from being square with your target, stationary, feet planted, shoulders pointed toward the target, elbows tucked and wrist locked. Follow-through was extremely important.

Maestro had practiced thousands of hours, throwing on the run. Each step was calculated, his feet squaring his shoulders in the perfect placement to his target. He had force behind his throw, so the blade penetrated the neck, slicing through the artery. He was throwing the second knife before the first had struck his target. He hadn’t dared to slow down; he had to reach his prey before either could recover from their shock enough to attempt to raise a gun or shout for help.

Normally, if the carotid artery was severed, it would take only five to fifteen seconds for death to occur. It was the one target Maestro practiced nearly daily to hit with efficiency. The artery was only one and a half inches below the skin. He didn’t have to carry huge knives to get the job done. He simply had to be accurate and extremely fast.



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