Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Master and Ambrielle went through the front entrance as if they were guests of Walker Thompson. The house was only dimly lit, amber lights glowing in the halls and on the stairway. Master, Ambrielle and Ink converged with Maestro and Player, and then, as they rounded another corner, Keys and Preacher. She saw more of the Torpedo Ink members descending the stairs. Again, they gave the impression of a wolf pack converging on prey.
“Mr. Thompson, I think we need to go. Now. I’ve got a bad feeling.”
Ambrielle recognized the voice immediately. “That’s Gleb,” she whispered.
“We’re surrounded by an army, and no one knows we’re here,” Thompson protested. “I don’t want to hear another word on the subject.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Thompson,” Gleb answered. He spoke in Russian.
Master interpreted for her. “He’s ordering his team to leave now.”
Master swept her back into the shadows. She knew to go still just as all of Torpedo Ink did. They became shadows. Ambrielle couldn’t let herself breathe in the presence of the four Russian assassins who wore the little ghost cuff links to signify they were part of the organization Czar’s Torpedo Ink had been tracking for a long time. These men hired themselves out to torture and kill for the traffickers, but they were independent contractors, and they were leaving Walker Thompson since he refused to listen to their advice. They had left him with his own hired bodyguards, four other men who thought they were tough but had no idea of the caliber of men who had just walked out on them.
Gleb and Denis led the way. They were six feet into the wide expanse of the living room when Gleb suddenly halted, instincts warning him they were in trouble. Ambrielle pressed her hand over her mouth, terrified for Master, but he was already behind Gleb. Maestro was behind Denis. Keys and Preacher had crept up behind the other two as well. There wasn’t a single sound to give away the fact that four men died right there, not twenty feet from where Walker Thompson watched a basketball game in the game room.
Heart pounding, Ambrielle slumped against the wall. It seemed anticlimactic that Gleb was really dead that quickly after he had murdered her father at Thompson’s demand. His death had been without any real struggle. He hadn’t had the chance to fight back. She thought he was nearly invincible, and yet Master had killed him in seconds.
Master turned to her, his eyes moving over her face, and then his hand followed where his gaze had traveled. “You doing all right?”
“It’s just that I thought he would put up a huge fight.”
“The idea is to never give your opponent that opportunity. He started the fight. We’re finishing it. Unless we need to interrogate someone, what’s the point of talking to them? Get the job done. Don’t make it personal.”
“It is personal to me.”
He cupped the side of her face, his thumb sliding over her lips, his gaze turning soft. “I know it is, princess. That makes it personal to me. Stay behind me.”
She knew to do that, so she nodded, attempting a smile to show him she was going to be just fine. She had no idea how they were going to go into a lighted room with four, possibly five armed men in it. She should have known better. Torpedo Ink always had a plan.
“On three,” Czar said.
Master counted down. He entered the room, stepping to one side to allow Maestro and Ink entrance. Guns were blazing. The windows were open, and Czar, Savage and Reaper had also gained entrance, firing at the four bodyguards. The men had no chance, dropping to the floor unmoving.
Walker Thompson stared at the bodies, mouth open, uncomprehending. Savage searched him none too gently for weapons, pulling out several as well as taking his phone. He tossed it to Code, who pocketed it.
“Before you die, Thompson,” Master said, walking up to him, looking him right in the eye. “I want you to know you fucked with the wrong family. You never should have issued the order to kill the Moore family. That was a big mistake on your part. Then you were too damn stupid to leave it alone.”
As he spoke the last, he caught the back of Thompson’s head in his giant palm and jerked him forward as he thrust his knife through his throat, all the while staring directly into his eyes. They stared at each other, Thompson shocked and uncomprehending, blood bubbling up around the wound and then streaming down in earnest. Master didn’t let him go, not until his legs turned to jelly and his eyes went glassy and then lifeless.
Walker Thompson went down to the floor as his knees buckled and then he face-planted. Master had stepped back to avoid getting hit with the body. “He’s dead, princess. You’re safe, and your parents are avenged. We’ve got the information we needed to get to the next rung in the ladder. Let’s go home.” He held out his hand to her.