Assignment by Craig A. Hart

Author:Craig A. Hart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Craig A. Hart

9

The car pulled up in front of a huge iron gate. Burke saw a man standing to one side holding a nasty-looking assault rifle with one hand and a leash restraining two immense Dobermans with the other. Burke patted his side, comforted by the hard, unrelenting form of the USP. He knew Lyndsey had come armed as well, but couldn’t imagine where Andre could have hidden a weapon. The man couldn’t move without endangering his shirt seams.

The chauffeur pressed a button on the dash and the heavy gate slid open. The car made its way through the opening, pausing only to allow the guard to identify the driver. Then they made their way up a long, winding road that seemed to lead into nowhere. The appearance of the house was so sudden it almost took Burke’s breath away. One moment he was staring at a dark hillside and the next, a towering mansion, aglow with lights. The driver pulled up in front of the house and opened his door. For one tense moment, Burke thought he would open the car door for them. Andre reached up and, pressing the intercom, informed him they would see to themselves from here. The driver nodded and pulled his door closed. Burke waited for the click of the locks, then opened his door and stepped out. The evening air was cool and fresh and he breathed deeply.

Andre got out and stood beside him. “Invigorating, is it not? Something I miss when in New York—I love it, but this—” He turned in a semi-circle, extending his arm outward to the surrounding countryside. “This is my home.”

They walked together to the front door. Andre presented his invitation to the attendant who nodded and opened the door for them. Burke stepped inside. Immense chandeliers hung from the ceiling by gold chains, throwing the room into healthy light and illuminating the polished furniture with a ruddy glow. The entryway floor was marble, as was the hallway as far as he could see. As they walked down the passageway, guided by yet another attendant, Burke peered into each room they passed and found each as richly furnished and decorated as the last, with carpets of royal blue, deep purple, maroon, and shades of gold. Each room was brightly lit, with small groups of people standing around conversing in low, friendly tones. Ripples of laughter and the faint sound of a string quartet wafted through the air.

“I’d hate to pay the electric bill for this place,” Burke mumbled. Ahead, he heard a larger crowd and guessed they were approaching the main room. He was right. The large room was full of milling people. In one corner, the quartet played while waiters circulated around the room, refilling glasses and pointing people toward the food.

Their guide stopped and beckoned to a tall, well-built man standing with a group of prosperous-looking individuals in one corner. When the man turned, Burke knew this must be Uncle Kotsias; the family resemblance was unmistakable. Kotsias excused himself from his other guests and walked toward them.

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