Kennedy Indelible- Two Faced Book 2

1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 978-1-946212-25-2
Verlag: Title Wave Publishing, LLC
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 184 Seiten

Reihe: Two Faced

Go on another journey with Scarlett and Ivan as they attempt to rescue his sister from Ivan's former boss, and Norwegian crime lord, Kieran 'the Punisher.' With the help of Scarlett's associates and some high-tech weapons, they embark on a mission across Europe that could be their last.
Meanwhile, Scarlett continues to receive phone calls from DEA agent, Aiden Bradley, and CIA supervisor, Collin Kincaid, begging her to come back to the force. When she receives word of a posing threat in the United States, will she go home and help fight, or will she still be fighting for her own life-and the dark life that continues to beckon her?

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kennedy, Alexis

Leseproben

    Scarlett Vanderwall opened the door to the posh five-star hotel room registered to Ms. Vivica Laituri—her favorite alter ego—and looked around. She didn't see Ivan anywhere, and that shackled her nerves—she'd told him to stay put. He was still getting over his injuries from their little soirée, and they still needed to lay low from the rest of the Mob and Mafia—not to mention the law. Also, his temper was still too hot, and she just didn't like being disobeyed. She grabbed another magazine for her 9mm, just for insurance, and headed back out onto the streets of Geneva, Switzerland. Scarlett took off on foot since Ivan didn't have access to a rental car at the moment. She figured it would be easier to retrace his footsteps that way. Also, there were a lot of establishments in the area to check out. She walked around the block and ducked into a bar called Rooftop 42. The bar's outdoor terrace gave her a broad view over the city streets below, and she used a special application on her phone that turned the device into binoculars to scout the area. Unfortunately, tall blond-haired men were common for the country. Also, working to her disadvantage, was the shift change in progress at many of the local factories; the streets were bustling with an overflow of bodies. It was the perfect opportunity for Ivan to blend in, and if he'd picked up on any of her tricks, he'd be even more incognito. She decided that her best bet was to troll through the crowds. She was the only one out on the cold patio; however, when she turned to go back inside, a portly balding man wearing filthy clothes stepped through the doorway and confronted her. “Have you lost your way precious? A delicate flower like you shouldn't be out in the cold.” He spoke in German and chuckled at himself before glancing at his comrades, who now appeared behind him and were as covered in soot and grime as he was. They met his glance and burst into laughter with him, but it wasn't jovial; it was threatening. Scarlett dipped her head and rolled her eyes. She wasn't in the mood to deal with these asshats today. Looking up and holding her right hand up at the same time, she replied in a clipped tone, “Thanks for your concern, but it's not necessary. Now, if you'll be so kind as to step aside...” At first, the man acted as if he was going to oblige, but as she stepped forward toward the doorway, he threw his thick hairy arm up in front of her to block her exit and grumbled, “Not so fast there, lassie. I don't believe I was done talking to you.” “Yeah,” one of his buddies chimed in. In one fluid motion, Scarlett brought her right elbow down hard on the outside of the first man's arm—breaking its connection with the wall—before bringing it up to his nose and simultaneously kneeing him in the crotch. She punctuated the movements by telling him, “Yes. You. Were.” While he was doubled over in pain, his lads tried to grab her, but she was too quick and smart for them. She ducked a punch thrown by the shorter of the two and came up with a swing of her own right into his jugular, which sent him flying backward. She quickly stood upright while pulling her 9mm in her right hand and her dart gun in her left hand, which she precisely aimed at both of them. The tall slender man, who had been fairly quiet all along, made the mistake of lunging for her, so she took him down with a single shot from the dart gun. Thud. His body hit the patio hard, and she was almost certain she felt vibrations waft through her toes from his skull cracking open in front of her. He was still alive—she could see the ragged rise and fall of his chest—but he was out cold from the tranquilizer, and blood trickled from the gaping head wound. The other two men looked up at her in shock and then at each other. The first one, the one who had started it all, licked his thick, dry lips and spat, “You bitch!” She almost laughed. Scarlett could see beads of sweat rolling down his face, and his eyes were darting left and right. She'd been in enough combat scenarios to know what his plans were, and she was correct—he lunged, and so did the short man. She fired at both of them. The bigger man received a bullet in the gut, while the dart just missed the other man's throat, and he landed on top of her. Her body screamed in pain as it hit the ground, and white-hot lightning tore through her shoulder as it felt the cold steel blade of a knife slice into it. So, the bastard brought a knife to a gun fight... Scarlett dropped the 9mm in her right hand and brandished her own knife, which had been stashed away in her waistband. At the same time, she wrapped her right leg inside his left and shoved against his right shoulder as hard as she could with her injured left one. The pain was almost unbearable, but she pushed through it. Tossing his weight off her was relatively easy, given his small stature, and she was quickly on top of him, plunging her serrated knife deep into his abdomen. The man yelped in pain as the blood rushed forth, and she withdrew the knife to plunge once more, but this time it was into his heart. The yelling stopped and so did the writhing beneath her. She watched his eyes roll back into his head, and she left them open for all to see. Scarlett sliced off a piece of her shirt and pressed it against her wound to slow the blood loss. She knew she needed stitches, but going to a doctor was not an ideal scenario. She quickly went downstairs, past the concerned and gawking patrons, and hurried out to the sidewalk. She rushed back to her hotel room and played doctor on herself. Unfortunately, she was out of lidocaine, so two shot glasses of vodka made do for the pain. After sewing the wound closed, she applied a gauze bandage, freshened up, and went back onto the streets while mentally cursing Ivan the entire time. She looked up at the various shops and businesses, wondering where the best place to look was. It would have helped if she knew more about him, but she made do with what she did know—he liked guns, women, booze, and killing. She recalled that there was a strip club nearby, so she turned north to walk the two blocks there while keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of him. Nada. Soon, she arrived at the Glass Rose on Olafsgatan Street. Scarlett walked into the seedy cabaret with her head held high. The brazen display of human sexual desires didn’t offend her—she rather enjoyed it—and she didn't want to look like a shy wallflower. She was dressed in a pocketed black button-up shirt with rolled up sleeves, black cargo pants that held some of her hardware, and black boots that were mid-calf length. Wolf whistles and catcalls permeated the air, and a couple of them were directed at her. “Are you here for your shift, gorgeous?” a German man asked her. “Yeah, take it off, baby,” his robust friend chimed in. “Not today, fellas,” she answered curtly and pushed past them. “Aw, come on, doll. You're breaking my heart,” the German man called after her. She tossed him a smile over her shoulder and kept walking. She looked up at the stage and got an eyeful of the half-naked women spinning on stripper poles while the audience cheered them on. Then her eyes took in the crowd. There were a couple of female patrons in the audience, too, and they were just as excited as the men. My kind of foreplay. She reflexively licked her lips. “Are you looking for me, beautiful?” she was asked as a Spaniard in an expensive suit sidled up to her. Scarlett eyed the gorgeous man up and down his snug-fitting Armani. If I had the time, yes. “Maybe another time,” she replied smugly and went back to scanning the crowd for Ivan. “My card then,” he purred and reached into his breast pocket to produce a business card with Count Fernando Delvega imprinted on its glossy surface along with his personal and business phone numbers. She flipped it over and saw a logo and Delvega Shipping on its back. She put the card into her pocket and...