Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Keys made his way to the top of the stairs, testing each step before he placed his weight. He was a big man. Dense. A lot of muscle. It wasn’t as if he could disappear on a staircase. He would have to crawl down like a lizard if he was going to be unseen. The worry was that there were two Ghosts left, not one. He could easily kill Declan’s guard and intended to do so the moment he had a clear path to him. He was good with throwing knives, and so far, the man had stayed in the same spot, back in the shadows, in a corner, covered on three sides. He thought himself safe.
Keys practiced the movement in his mind. He would have to throw the knife and then leap for safety, assuming Declan would be armed with a gun. That meant landing where Declan couldn’t see him clearly. He chose his spot. He’d made it down several stairs on his belly. The Ghost in the corner hadn’t stirred. In fact, he was too still, which meant his alarms were going off.
“Declan, it’s time to move you to the closet where we’ve prepared a safe room.” That voice came from the other side of the room. Keys had no visual.
Do you have that Ghost in your sight? he asked Master. They were all converging on the great room and their main target, but like Keys, Maestro had to make his way downstairs.
I don’t have a visual on any of them, Lana reported.
At least these Ghosts had heeded their training. Keys had no idea why, but it made him feel better. They weren’t going up against total amateurs.
“I’m quite comfortable right where I am, Orlov,” Declan said, a small note of contempt in his voice. “There are five of you. Five more going to acquire the woman. I think you should be able to handle any threat without me having to be concerned enough to go spend time in a closet. I hired you because you’re considered the best. Just get your job done.”
“I am doing my job. There’s an unknown threat to you. My brother and Tarasov and Mironov have not answered. The team moving to acquire the woman has gone silent. I have been unable to raise them.” Orlov was patient. He didn’t react to Declan’s superior tone.
Orlov was a pro. He had to have been the one to keep his brother alive. Despite the fact that his brother wasn’t responding to his inquiries or had missed a check-in, Orlov was professional enough not to rush up the stairs to see what was wrong. He was protecting the client and raising the alarm.
His voice gave Keys a direction on him. In position.
In position, Master reported.
Will be right behind you, Maestro said.
Keys made his move, surging up and throwing the knife with deadly accuracy. He threw with his body in motion, leaping off the staircase to land on the same side as Declan. It was better to take the chance with the civilian than a trained killer.
Orlov was handicapped in that Keys had landed on the side of the main target. If the Ghost chose to spray the room with bullets, chances were good he would hit the man he was being paid to guard. Keys rolled across the floor and came up in front of Declan’s recliner, kicking the gun from his hand and sliding around behind him.
The recliner had been leaning far back, so it was easy enough to put a blade to Declan’s throat.
“I’ve got money,” Declan said calmly. “More than you can ever imagine.”
“You can’t bargain with these men,” Orlov stated.
“Do you know who they are?” Declan asked.
Keys remained silent. He was in the shadows now, still, his body protected by the chair and Declan. The blade of his knife remained so tight against Declan’s neck, blood trickled down, yet the man didn’t panic.
“There are rumors about them,” Orlov said. His voice came from a slightly different position. He was on the move, but very stealthy. “There is a legend about a school in Russia. One that claims there were no survivors. Another says that out of close to three hundred students, a few managed to stay alive by killing those who would have murdered them. They are said to be unmatched in their skills.”
Orlov didn’t sound overly impressed or even as if he believed the rumors.
“Has anyone seen these supposed elite killers?” Declan asked. “I was told you were the best, and yet you’re saying that might not be so.”
It wasn’t so if Orlov continued to talk and give his position away. He might think he was clever, waiting for a response from Keys, but if he’d heard the rumors about survivors of Sorbacov’s brutal school—and he was certain there was speculation by now among the Ghosts—he’d forgotten or hadn’t heard they were a pack of wolves when they went hunting.