Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“No, because if he pushes that button, it will literally drown his hard drives and servers in sulfuric acid, alcohol and water that could not only react violently with organic materials most likely causing a hazardous eruption that’ll kill us, but also produce a toxic gas that would do the same if for some reason we don’t die in the previously mentioned J.J. Abrams approved explosion.”
Horror overwhelms his face on a huff, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” Blu brushes off and resumes his explanation. “I’m taking the left, Reynolds you’re to the right, and Wahl you’re taking the escape tunnel which is right here,” he makes a circular motion, “passing itself off as a set of rocks. The good news is it’s pretty much a straight shot from there to the set of stairs that lead directly into the backside of the saferoom.”
“The bad news being that it’s heavily patrolled, gunfire echoes, and my clearance time is the most crucial.”
He hits me with an amused grin. “Exactly.”
Honestly, this shit is nothing new for me.
And given my impressive track record, I’m not worried.
And I don’t have time to be worried even if I wanted to be.
Worrying gets you killed.
Staying calm and focused significantly increases your chance of survival.
“Wiz is already looping the surrounding security footage giving us the all clear to approach the property undetected,” Blu informs, tucking the tablet back out of sight, “so we need to get moving.”
“And you’re fuckin’ positive this Wiz guy can get into Guggenheim’s shit?”
My best friend shoots me a good-natured wink. “They don’t call him Wiz for nothing.”
Reynolds needlessly interjects, “Maybe it’s because he really likes magic and that was the best magician’s name they could come up with.”
“Huh,” Blu grunts in amusement, “I think I’d go see a biker magician. He’d probably do some dope shit like cut a Harley in half.”
“Or make one disappear,” the other member of the team adds.
“Right now, I’m tempted to have him make both of you disappear and do this on my own.”
“Except direct murder for hire isn’t really the Misfits style,” Blu informs as we wedge the pieces in our ears. “They’re more chivalrous than that.”
“Stop watchin’ Bridgerton with your girlfriend.”
“Stop listening to Green Day with yours.”
Reynolds delivers unexpected pats to our shoulders. “You both live very sad lives.”
“Says the boy who cried herpes,” I jab in tandem with opening my door.
“The drip!” He bites back. “It was the drip!”
“Not that much better,” Blu chuckles and follows my exit.
We each make our way around to the rear where we put on our vests, load them up with the appropriate gear, and test out the new coms. Once our watches are set and synced, we spread out to conquer our assigned terrain. Traveling straight downward in order to follow the river line is the easiest part. Even if I hadn’t trained in rough regions, the later part of my adolescence featured a lot of time hunting with my dad sans Kolby who wanted to spend all his time in the rink.
Jogging along the path near the water is where things get a little slipperier.
Literally.
The damp ground isn’t the greatest for footing even in the appropriate boots and doing my best to avoid an easy trackable trail merely adds to the speed complications.
By the time I manage to arrive at the location I need to be, I’m twenty seconds behind and struggling to determine where I can shave off that time in order to not blow the op.
Because I can’t let Guggenheim destroy those drives or servers.
And I damn sure can’t let Arley become a widow before she’s even been fucking married.
Peering around the tree closest to the escape hatch gives me a fairly direct line of sight to my obstacle that is already making a deadly mistake by not paying attention to his surroundings.
Talk about a great opportunity to get back that time.
High pitched moaning sounds pour from his phone providing me with the perfect cover for a covert attack. Three quick steps over and I’m swinging one arm around his throat. Locking my forearm under his Adam’s apple. Wedging the muzzle against his side and unloading two rounds into his liver. His frame instantly becomes limp allowing me to strip him of his weapon and easily slip him into the small waterfall to drown while bleeding out versus wasting ammo or risking additional shots being heard.
Opening the door hidden amongst what appears to be a collection of trees occurs just as the porn watcher’s replacement is exiting. Instantly, I grab the sides of his head and forcefully yank him downward at the same time I send my knee upward. The first crack I hear is his nose breaking. The next four are optical bones. The remainder of the rattles are from his jaw and teeth shattering. Blood splashes onto the surrounding foliage as he’s flipped around onto his back and kicked into the water but the red splatters on my shoes easily wash away when I stomp on his chest forcing him to gasp underwater, an act that will assist in him meeting the same watery fate that the other member of his team did.