Waiting by Erin Dennington ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 91 He passed a middle aged man who sat in the dark with his head on top of his arms like a child playing "Seven Up" on a rainy day. He did not know whether this man was dead, but realized that if the man had died, then it meant that there was a chance that there was another like he in this room. Another who had been trained in the ways of the assassin and who had been contracted to be here, just like he had been. The thought that there was another man in the room just like he sent shivers of anger up and down his spine. There should not be more than one assassin trained agent in this room; he was paid top money to ensure that nothing like this ever happened. Time was of the essence and so he pressed on, skirting around the furniture in the dark. The brief respite given to him when the lights were turned on had not helped much, as it had only ruined the night vision that he had cultivated. He mentally cursed the idiot who was playing games with them, knowing that, most likely, it was either his boss or someone that worked with his boss, but caring none the less. It was a stupid thing to do and he was pissed. Hearing voices a little ways up ahead, he halted to listen, and was glad that he did so. 21:23 - 11.30.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||