Bang,
Bang!
Two quick shots. Two men down.
In the blink of an eye, the ten-man strike team was reduced to only four killers.
They exchanged tense glances, then ducked behind a burned-out car, ready to pop out and ambush Alex Cross the moment he showed an opening.
But before they could fire—
Whoosh!
A single sniper round ripped through the air, nailing one of them clean in the head.
The other three froze.
They thought it was Cross's backup.
One of them crouched down, fumbling for his phone to report to Lena on the rooftop—
Whoosh!
The second bullet came right on cue, punching through another man's skull. Blood and brain matter splattered the asphalt.
The last two turned toward the direction of the shot, faces twisted in horror.
It hit them at once—
Lena… had switched sides.
One of them panicked, pulling out his phone to call the Mayor.
But they forgot something—
Just a few feet away, Alex Cross was still there.
And he was far deadlier than Lena.
Bang! Bang!
Cross emerged from behind the car's rear bumper, his twin pistols flashing in the dark.
Both killers went down.
The phone slipped from one man's bloody hand, still dialing the Mayor's number.
Cross stepped forward, aimed both pistols at the groaning men, and—
Bang! Bang!
Silence.
From the phone on the ground came the Mayor's voice, faint and angry:
"Hello? Hello?! Say something!"
Cross bent down, picked up the phone, and said with a cold laugh,
"Tsk, tsk… old man, I told you—I'm coming for you."
His voice sent a chill through the Mayor's bones.
Sitting in front of the fire in his Hallstatt mansion, the Mayor's eyes twitched.
He forced himself to sound calm.
"Cross… I admit I underestimated you," the Mayor said tightly. "But don't get cocky. Finish the deal with me quietly, or you and everyone with you dies. The network—"
Cross cut him off with a sneer.
"Really? You mean your pack of half-trained goons?"
He scoffed again.
"Old man, scrub your neck clean and wait for me. I'll send you off myself. For now… I've got a sniper problem to deal with."
Before the Mayor could answer, Cross hung up and crushed the phone under his boot.
---
Hallstatt, the Mayor's office.
The old man trembled with rage. He almost hurled his phone into the fireplace.
Then he remembered—Lena.
He quickly redialed.
No answer.
His gut sank.
Just as he was about to hang up—
The call connected.
"Mayor."
Lena's voice came through, faint and strained.
Relief washed over him.
But confusion followed.
If everyone else was dead… why was she still alive?
Before he could ask, Lena continued:
"Cross is too strong. I tried sniping him several times—he dodged every shot. Now… I think he's coming for me."
The Mayor froze.
Those words echoed what Cross had said moments ago—
'I'll deal with your sniper first.'
It made perfect sense now.
"Then get out of there!" the Mayor barked. "You're close to the Continental Hotel—if you make it inside, Cross won't dare touch you!"
"I'll… try," Lena said, her tone heavy and weary.
Her feigned desperation sealed the illusion perfectly.
When the call ended, Lena calmly shifted her sniper rifle, repositioning the scope toward the southern window of the abandoned building.
Through the scope, she saw several tribal mercenaries trying to climb through the window into the building.
At the same time—
Cross was flanking from the main entrance, heading toward the same spot.
Bang! Bang!
Ratatatat!
Gunfire echoed through the night.
Cross crouched by a corner, leaned out, and spotted another ten-man squad pressed against the wall, spraying blindly into the building.
He spun out from cover, both guns blazing—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Within seconds, bullets tore through the group.
The mercenaries scattered in panic.
Inside, Anna, though exhausted, reacted instantly.
Hearing Cross's gunfire, she charged toward the window, firing in sync with him.
The four Sisterhood assassins followed, unleashing their own barrage.
From the rooftop, Lena joined in—
each of her shots claiming another life.
It was almost poetic:
Three strike teams had planned a triple-front assault—
and instead, they were the ones surrounded and slaughtered.
When Cross fired the final shot, dropping the last merc, his phone buzzed again.
He answered.
"Mr. Cross," Lena's voice came through softly, "the west side entrance is a blind spot. You'll have to handle that yourself. I'll be waiting for you downstairs. But… I'll need you to play along for one more scene."
"Oh?" Cross said, reloading a fresh mag while sliding along the wall.
"What kind of scene?"
"I need you," Lena whispered, "to chase me… all the way to the Continental Hotel."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you're interested, you can read advanced chapters:
pat reon .com / Samorash
