An Evil Trade by Kenneth Eade

Author:Kenneth Eade
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: terrorist fiction terrorism novels war on terror, vigilante justice suspense thrillers men's adventure women's adventure, new books mystery books action & adventure travel, pulp thrillers international mystery political thrillers american assassin suspense thrillers acti, political thrillers political thriller books political thriller movies best political thrillers acti
Publisher: Times Square Publishing
Published: 2018-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Robert took an inventory of his collection – a Dragunov SVD, his sniper rifle of choice. He lifted it off the rack, put the butt to his shoulder and looked through the sensitive sight, then put it back into its place. A sawed-off shotgun – apartment security—which he removed and shoved under his side of the nearby bed. He shed his shirt, donned his shoulder holster, and picked up Mr. Reliable – the Glock 19. He popped out the magazine, checked the chamber, and snapped the clip back in with the heel of his hand. He snatched a noise suppressor from the drawer and slid it into the holster. Next, a crowd control classic; the AK-47; a Sig-Sauer .45; field glasses; night vision goggles; grenades; smoke bombs; and enough ammunition to start a small war. That was overkill for this assignment. One bullet, properly trajected, was enough for this job.

No sooner had Robert locked up the cabinet than Aisha returned with two paper bags. She set them down on the coffee table and pulled out six familiar white, wired paper containers, two sets of chopsticks, and a wad of napkins. She also pulled out a bottle of Pouilly Fuisse, to which Robert nodded his approval.

“I see you know your wines.”

She smiled. “And I figured you for a beer man. Got any wine glasses in this dump?”

Robert nodded and pointed to the kitchen. “There should be a corkscrew in there too, in one of the drawers.”

Ayisha returned with the glasses and a corkscrew. She placed the glasses on the table and handed the corkscrew to Robert, who quickly popped the cork and poured the chilled wine into the two glasses. He handed one to Ayisha, who smiled and raised it to him.

“To your success.”

“Thank you, Ayisha.”

Their glasses kissed each other and then went to their own, respective lips. Ayisha opened the tops of the paper containers and the distinctive smell of Chinese takeout filled the still air.

“Never knew why they made these origami buckets for Chinese food.”

Robert laughed. “I thought everyone did. They convert into plates.”

“No shit?”

“I shit you not, but who’d want to do that? It’s less messy to just dip in,” said Robert, as he dove into the chop suey box with his sticks.

“I guess it’d be more sanitary.”

“Have you seen them eat? They put all the food in bowls, stick the bowls on the top of a Lazy Susan in the middle of the table and stab at whatever they want as it spins by.”

Ayisha took a stab into the duck packet and slid a piece of the gravied meat between her lips.

“So, what’s the assignment, may I ask?”

“You may not. And there is no assignment.”

“There must be something I or at least Rahbi can do.”

“I told you, there’s no job.”

“Robert, I’m not stupid.”

Robert knew that well. Not only was she intelligent, but also a snap marksman, who’d seen more than her fair share of action in the field – more than most men. But she was like a Trojan horse; a gift for the senses on the outside and full of trouble inside.

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