Finale by Karl Hill

Author:Karl Hill [Hill, Karl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

32

Black made his way along the corridor. It was wide and high, the walls dark marble shot with silver flecks, the ceiling a series of gilt-edged cupolas, from which suspended miniature chandeliers, sparkling like little clouds of stars. Doors on either side. Black passed two men in the corridor, who gave him a cursory glance. Black walked like a man who belonged. Part of the Malcolm Copeland protection team. He reached a leather panelled door at the end, turned the handle, pushed.

He entered a large dimly lit room. All about, shapes and shadows. At one end, a fire crackled under a stone hearth. Above it, an enormous painting of a man dressed from another era, sporting a shotgun. The same man was sitting on a couch close to the fire, only considerably fatter. He was swaddled in a crimson silk bathrobe. On his feet a pair of matching slippers. Clasped in one hand, a glass of something probably alcoholic. Burning on an ashtray on the arm of the couch, a cigar. The man himself, presumed Black. Malcolm Copeland.

Copeland barely looked at him. He seemed absorbed in the flickering flames of the fire. Black noted the far wall, comprising a set of French doors, beyond which, a man stood as motionless as stone, his back to the room, looking out towards the gardens. Watching for any advancing intruders. Oblivious to the intruder within. As indeed everyone was.

“What is it,” growled Copeland. He picked up his cigar, sucked at one end, the other turning a sudden glowing circle of orange.

Black remained at the door. He spoke, soft as a breath. “Do you have a minute, Mr Copeland?”

“What?” Copeland looked up, peering at him.

Black made his way in, a shadow amongst shadows, and stood before the fire, six feet from Copeland.

“Just a minute of your time, please. It won’t take long, I promise.” Black sat on a chair opposite. Copeland’s face contorted in bewilderment.

“What is this? You should be out there, doing what you’re fucking paid to do.”

“Of course. I couldn’t agree more. But this will only take a moment. I have something important to tell you.”

Copeland squinted. “It had better be important. Come closer, so I can see your face.”

“Hush now,” said Black. “Adam Black is near at hand.”

Copeland jerked up, the contents of the glass spilling on his lap, his robe slipping to one side, revealing a patch of smooth skin, white as alabaster. The jowls of his face quivered, like a slobbery dog.

“What do you mean, near at hand? Who are you?”

“Adam Black is here.”

With an almost casual air, Black produced the Desert Eagle, and aimed it at Copeland’s midsection. It was an easy target.

“You’ll know your weapons, I’m sure. This particular handgun is particularly powerful. Do you know why? Let me tell you. It has a gas-operated chamber. That’s unique for a semi-automatic. As such, it can take cartridges that pack a real punch. For example, if I were to aim for your neck…” Black tilted the pistol up four inches, “…the impact would remove your head from your shoulders.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.