Flee - A Thriller by J.A. Konrath & Ann Voss Peterson

Author:JA Konrath
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: spy espionage female spy thriller konrath jack daniels women sleuths heroine assassin ops
Publisher: JA Konrath

“When you’re undercover, you can’t pretend to be another person,” The Instructor said. “You must become that person. Your success depends on whether or not people believe you. Your life is at risk if they don’t.”

Hammett surveys the chaos around her, the chaos she has caused, and runs the tip of her tongue across her lower lip.

It might be more efficient to just kill them all. Or at the very least it would be more fun.

She leans on the maître d’ stand and watches the last of the Signature Room employees file into the elevator, following in the wake of diners who were evacuated from the top of the John Hancock Building first. They are scared out of their minds, she can smell it, and their fear makes her pulse spike.

The world is divided into predators and prey. These men and women scurrying to escape the fake bomb threat she and Victor cooked up are weak. They are so desperate for someone to save them, they accept the fake bomb squad uniforms and generic tool boxes without a blink. They dash from their hundred-dollar meals in a scramble to catch the first elevator. They are animals begging to be culled from the herd.

And she’s itching to do the culling.

Hammett is aware of the weight of the .45 on her hip, the knife in the sheath at her ankle, but she doesn’t use them. As much as she would enjoy taking each of the remaining sheep out, making them beg, making them scream, she doesn’t have time.

When the elevator doors close, she turns away and climbs the staircase leading to the floor above. As she ascends to the balcony, she scans the restaurant a floor below. Beyond linen-covered tables and meals in various stages of being eaten, the city shifts from day to sunset through enormous floor-to-ceiling windows. The dark void of Lake Michigan shifts and sways. Lights of ships dot the horizon, only the occasional red or blue differentiating them from glimpses of stars beginning to light the sky.

The world is a big place. And Hammett has plans a lot bigger than toying with waiters and chefs. Even the maître d’ who didn’t quite believe her bomb scare story, the one she most itches to kill, isn’t worth it.

Maybe she’ll catch up with him later.

She steps onto the balcony’s marble floor and glances past the upper floor’s maître d’ stand. Dressed as bomb squad techs, Victor and his men started searching the bar on the 96th floor while she was arguing with the manager. She pauses to watch two of them comb the private dining rooms off the bank of elevators. Hammett doesn’t fully trust them. She doesn’t fully trust anyone, but since she needs the money and manpower Victor provides, she will play nice for now.

She sets off down the long hallway to the lounge to check up on Victor. He better have results.

In the lounge, the western, southern and northern vistas open beyond the glass, along with a spectacular sunset.

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