Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Which means there’s only a single option.
“We storm the place. Light it on fire. Cause chaos. Get them to evacuate. Find Vural in the mess, kill him, take the book back, and go home.”
Prime’s smile fades. “Sounds easy.”
“It won’t be. There’s a good chance we’ll lose people. An even better chance half of us will end up in prison.”
“I’m not afraid of doing time.”
“Get everyone on the same page. We’re moving in ten minutes.”
“Not much prep.”
“We don’t have the luxury.” I nod back at his truck. “You got weapons in there?”
His grin returns. “Fuck, yes, I do. Vests, rifles, whatever you need.”
I rub my hands together. “How about grenades?”
“You’re in for a treat.”
My leg aches like hell. Each step is agony. The vest I’m wearing chafes. I have goggles, a mask to protect against smoke, and a tactical helmet. I look like a fucking Navy Seal.
Prime’s men wear a similar kit. More soldiers arrive, all of them armed. News about the Black Book spreads like wildfire, and I can tell the men are rattled. I get more than a few calls from the council, and I send them all to voicemail. Eventually, I have to turn off my phone.
“You understand the plan?” We’re crouched behind a line of trucks fifty feet from the hotel.
“Easy enough. You’re sure you want to be the one to kick it all off?”
“Absolutely.” I glance over my shoulder, back toward the city. There’s no turning back, but a part of me wishes I could see Kira one more time. She’d have something clever to say. “Let’s get this over with.”
I stride out of cover. If anyone’s looking out their window, they probably think a SWAT team is about to kick down the hotel’s front doors.
The lobby is fashionable, if a little empty. Couches and seating on the right, a little bar to the left, and the front desk straight ahead. The staff stares at me, their mouths hanging open. I stride straight up to one of the girls.
“Uh, hello, officer, what can I do for you?”
“There’s a man staying here. His name is Isak Vural.” I show her a photo of him on my phone.
“I’m sorry, it’s against policy—”
I level my rifle at her face. “Which room is he staying in?”
Her eyes go wide as she starts typing. “He’s in 323, corner suite, but I recognize that guy. He’s under the name Michael Corsetti.”
Cheeky fucking bastard.
“Evacuate the hotel. Hit the fire alarm right now.”
“But there’s no fire?”
I pull the pin on a grenade. “There is now.” I toss it over to the empty couches. It goes off with a concussive boom and sends wood shrapnel all over the place. Fire instantly spreads across the nearby carpets and window treatments, much faster than I imagined.
Prime and his guys storm in once the explosion goes off. They’ll be securing all entrances to make sure Vural can’t escape. “Room 323. Expect trouble.”
“Always do.” Prime takes five soldiers and hurries to the stairs. I take five and go to the elevators. They stay behind to secure the escape route in case Vural slips past while I take one up to the second floor.
The place is strangely empty. Even with the fire alarm now blaring like crazy, I step out and there’s silence. I expected a stampede of terrified guests.
But there’s nobody here.
My radio crackles. “Stellan, it’s Prime. This place is like a fucking graveyard.”
“I was just thinking the same thing. There’s nobody here.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
I take one step—and it hits me.
“He rented out the whole place.”
A nearby door bangs open and a man holding a rifle comes storming into the hall. I barely have time to drop to a knee and shoot him in the face. He’s surprised as his head’s blown to little pieces. I take a step back, eyes wide with shock, as more and more doors kick open.
They’re here. His entire organization is here.
And they’re occupying the entire building.
The stupid bastard thought filling it up with soldiers was a good idea.
But now I don’t need to hesitate.
I pull another grenade, rip out the pin, and throw it. I don’t have time to survey the damage. The explosion rocks the floor as I throw myself to the ground. Bullets rip the air all around me. There’s more shooting in the distance, but I don’t know what’s happening. Probably Prime trying to get up the stairwell.
I toss another grenade and another. After the third, I’m totally out. I get to my knees and shuffle to the edge of the wall, daring a single peek around.
The hallway is a burning wreck. It’s pure carnage. Bodies are scattered all over. Limbs, burned torsos, shredded faces. So much blood it’s hard to imagine. That’s what happens when grenades go off in tight confines. All that energy goes straight into the closest bodies.