Brimstone by Russel Hutchings

Author:Russel Hutchings
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Big Sky Publishing
Published: 2021-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

- Anchalee -

BANGKOK, THAILAND

The chirping of the alarm clock broke the uninterrupted slumber of Anchalee, and she peeled back her blankets and swung her feet out of bed. She squeezed the shag pile carpet between her toes and peered through the matted mess that was her hair.

She looked over at the alarm clock that was flashing a red 5.00 am. Sitting upright for a few minutes, she sat almost in a state of meditation, her back straight as a board, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and controlled.

She reached across and pressed the alarm ‘off’ button, then eased herself up and stood, turning back to her bed and reaching under the pillow to retrieve her much-favoured 9 mm Glock 19 pistol. As if on autopilot, she walked across the 33rd-floor apartment, pulled out a chair from her dining table and expertly stripped her weapon.

She walked to the kitchen and from under the sink retrieved a rolled-up valise and walked back to the table, then unrolled the valise to reveal a weapon-cleaning kit.

Every morning, without fail, Anchalee carried out the same routine, cleaning her pistol and checking all the working parts for serviceability.

She unloaded all the ammunition from the magazines, to ease the tension on the magazine springs, and cleaned each round before feeding the bullets back into the magazines. She left nothing to chance, making sure that her weapon came first; it was her highest priority of the day – her weapon of choice was her very survival.

She went to the bathroom and brushed her hair – her long, silky, raven hair reached halfway down her back – and then pulled all of it to the rear, gathering it up into a ponytail.

She was a stunningly beautiful woman, even having just woken from her slumber, makeup-free – she was quite perfect, a fact that had made her life somewhat easier than most.

She wore black Nike waist to ankle running tights and a mauve Threadborne Streaker tank top. Her mauve and black Nike cross-trainer shoes looked like they had seen better days, no doubt from the countless kilometres of running.

Once dressed, she hit the button on her Nespresso coffee machine and watched as the strong black ‘fuel’ came out. She glanced to her left and saw a picture of her family on the side table. It was of when she was so much younger, and her father, mother and brother were hardly recognisable now – which was just the way she liked it.

This one's for you ....

After downing her coffee, and relishing the feeling it gave her, she placed a pouch around her waist and fastened the black plastic Delrin clip, picked up her Glock and inserted a 20-round magazine, and then cocked the weapon, putting a round in the chamber. She then undid the zip and placed the pistol inside the pouch, alongside a silencer, and refastened the zip.

Just another day in the office ... she thought.

She then made her way down the 33 floors to the foyer

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