Chapter 303
The first guard made exactly that sound. I caught him before his head could strike the concrete, lowered him gently to the ground, and dragged his considerable bulk behind a stack of empty pallets that someone had left in the corridor. One down. Five to go.
The second guard who was patrolling the entrance was even easier than the first because he had his back to me and his earbuds in, listening to something with enough bass that I could teel the vibrations through the air before I was close enough to strike.
I almost felt bad for him. The death strike dropped him mid-step, and I dragged his body into the shadow, arranging his limbs so he would not be immediately visible to anyone. His music was still playing, a tinny pulse of electronic noise that faded as I moved away.
Three and four were together, which was a complication I had anticipated but still dreaded. They were probably two men who had been working together long enough that they had developed the kind of silent communication that made them more dangerous as a pair than they would have been individually.
I watched them from the shadows for a full two minutes, cataloguing their positions, their body language, the frequency with which they glanced in my direction, and when I had enough data to work with, I made my decision.
I walked out with my shoulders back and my chin up, the posture of a woman who had every right to be there, and the momentary flicker of recognition on their faces, the split second of hesitation that came from seeing a familiar figure, was all the time I needed.
The first one went down before he could open his mouth to ask what I was doing outside the apartment alone. The second one reached for his weapon, his hand closing around the grip with the practiced efficiency of someone who had drilled the motion a thousand times, but I was already inside his guard, my palm driving upward into the soft flesh beneath his chin, and his eyes rolled back in his head before his finger ever found the trigger.
I dragged their bodies into a supply closet and locked the door behind me, my heart hammering against my ribs in a rhythm that was equal parts exhilaration and terror. Four down. Two to go.
The last two were stationed at the apartment door itself, which meant there was no way to approach them without being seen. I had known this from the beginning. The entrance leading to Julian’s apartment door was long and straight and brightly lit, a shooting gallery for anyone stupid enough to try a frontal assault, and the two men guarding the door were the best Julian had, the ones he trusted to protect him while he slept.
They saw me the moment I turned the corner, and their reaction was immediate: a tightening of postures, a shifting of weight, a barely perceptible movement of hands toward holsters that told me everything I needed to know about their training and their instincts.
“Evening, gentlemen.” I kept walking toward them, my stride unhurried, my smile easy, the smile of a woman {who seemed to be their boss’s favorite toy, and had never once given them a reason to consider her a threat.”
Julian asked me to come back alone and pick up something.”
The one on the left, a wiry man with a face like a hatchet and the kind of eyes that had seen too much to believe anything at face value, narrowed his gaze at me. “We haven’t received any instructions.”
“Because I’m the instructions, genius.” I was close enough now to see the individual pores on his nose, close enough to smell the coffee on his breath and the gun oil on his hands. “Do you want to call Julian at this hour and tell him you’re questioning his orders? Because I would love to be here when you have that conversation, but I have things to do, so let’s speed this along.”
The one on the right, younger and dumber and clearly not entirely comfortable with the idea of pointing a weapon
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at a woman he had seen in significantly less clothing, shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine. You can go in.”
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