The Seventh Pillar (The Project) by Alex Lukeman

Author:Alex Lukeman [Lukeman, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Alex Lukeman
Published: 2012-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

"Why are we slowing, Grigor?" Azhrakov looked up from his papers at the back of the driver's head.

"Accident ahead."

Yuri was annoyed. He'd wanted to take the speedy route to town, but there had been a roadblock. He'd chosen the next best route. Normally he didn't mind the slower, scenic routes but he was anxious to get to the airport. He had a meeting with an important client at his dacha on the Black Sea. It wouldn't do if he wasn't there to greet him.

Ahead, Yuri saw a blue Fiat with a crumpled hood and fender halfway across the road. Another car, a red Alfa, sat hanging over a broken guardrail, the grill and windshield smashed, steam rising under the hood. A motorcycle cop stood by his BMW talking to a man holding a bloody bandage to his head. An ambulance sat behind the vehicles, lights flashing.

There was a curve and a turnout here. On the left, the road fell away into the trees and dropped for hundreds of feet. On the right, the mountains rose in a sheer wall. The road was completely blocked, except for a small section to the right.

"Go around it." Yuri gestured. As the Mercedes moved forward the cop turned and held up his hand. Grigor slowed.

A green police Land Rover, lights flashing, came up behind. Then the world exploded.

Eddie fired as the Land Rover came alongside. The armored glass shattered. One second, Yuri was looking at Grigor. The next, Grigor's head disappeared in a red mist. Blood, bits of bone and gray, soggy clumps covered Yuri's two thousand Euro suit and carefully pampered face.

The fifty caliber round passed through Grigor as if he wasn't there. It mangled the second bodyguard in the front seat. It continued on through the passenger window and impacted against the mountain. The Mercedes slewed off the road and came to a jolting stop.

The last guard was named Alexei. He opened the door and rolled onto the road, firing his Skorpion as he hit the ground. The motorcycle cop had his Beretta out. The Skorpion cut him down. Alexei turned and had just enough time to see a black man pointing a sub machine gun at him. It was the last thing he would ever see.

Enzio dragged Yuri from the car and threw him down onto the hard pavement. Azhrakov felt a sharp pain as someone jabbed a needle in his neck. Then, blackness.

Monroe looked at his agent, the one Alexei had shot. Blood pooled around him. His vest had stopped two rounds but another had struck his neck. He was dead.

"Get him into the ambulance with Azhrakov. Throw the bike over the edge. Get the bodies into the Mercedes and push it over. The Alfa, too. Get the Fiat out of here."

The vehicles went over the edge, crashing down into the trees. Monroe got back in the Land Rover. They headed for Milan.

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