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Contract: Sicko (Sei Assassin Thriller Book 2)

Page 19

by Ty Hutchinson


  “Don’t worry Amina. Death will not be painful.”

  Mdivani forced his left arm under her chin and pulled back against her windpipe. Amina felt immense pressure on her throat. She tried hard to inhale but couldn’t. Her lungs ached. She grabbed his arm and pulled with all her might but it wouldn’t budge. She kicked and kicked. Elbowed and elbowed. Threw her head back as much as she could, trying desperately to connect with his face, to hurt him, to cause him to loosen his grip just enough that she might escape.

  And then she felt it: a loosening in the pressure around her neck.

  Yes, he’s letting go. He’s tired. Keep going, Amina.

  Her hand lessened its grip on his arm and fell to the side, dangling.

  Just fight a little longer, a little harder.

  Her kicking turned into one leg jerking straight out.

  You’re winning, Amina.

  Sadly, the euphoria that Amina felt wasn’t Mdivani giving up. It was the life leaving her body.

  Chapter 67

  Amina’s family directed me to the rooftop of the building. I found her curled up behind a water reservoir. I almost missed her. From a distance, she looked like a piece of bunched-up tarp, but I always made a habit of poking everything I see. I’ve found people in the most unlikely places. She wasn’t breathing, but her body was still warm. I turned her over onto her back and proceeded to administer CPR.

  Thirty chest compressions and two breaths.

  Come back to me, Amina. You can do it.

  Thirty chest compressions and two breaths.

  Don’t give up. You’ve got a life to live.

  Thirty chest compressions and two breaths.

  Thirty chest compressions… no breath.

  After trying to revive her, I removed my hands from her chest and stared at her lifeless body. A feeling of senselessness grew inside of me, weighing my shoulders down. A tear crawled down my left check. Failure seemed to be something I’d begun to excel at.

  I wiped my face with my shoulder, a bit ashamed that I couldn’t control my emotions. When I was a child, my mentors told me teardrops were signs of weakness. In that moment, I couldn’t help but feel just that: weak and defeated. I had continued to fail over and over in the search for my daughter. Another tear fled my eye, then another, until streams traced both cheeks. I couldn’t control the sobbing. I had become someone I never expected: a grieving parent.

  I placed my hand over Amina’s face just below her eyes to try to determine whether she was in fact the one nurse who came into my room, but nothing about her eyes looked familiar. I so badly wanted to ask her questions about Mui. Did she open her eyes? Did she look at you? Did she make a noise? Did she cry? How long did you hold her? What did she smell like?

  That night I realized I had never fully grieved the loss of my daughter. I had kept it bottled up inside. Hiding, avoiding what had happened, was my way of dealing. But once I discovered she was alive, hope grew. Slowly, cautiously, I had allowed myself the joy, the happiness of believing that I would find her. But with Amina’s death, I was stripped of any hope, again. An intense pain gripped my abdomen and spread throughout my body like a black cancer. I fell to the side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

  Amina’s family hadn’t bothered to come up to the roof with me. When I spoke with them earlier, I sensed no bond between them and Amina. I had no plans on notifying them—having Amina’s death tied to me wasn’t an interesting proposition. I composed myself and then walked over to the four-foot perimeter wall at the edge of the roof. I peered down at the street below. A single streetlight just to the right of the building shed light on a ten-foot radius. Just beyond the edge of the yellowish circular glow, to the right, where the blend of dark and light mixed, stood a lone figure.

  The assassin!

  Chapter 68

  I raced down the stairs, two at a time, sometimes three, bouncing off the wall at each turn on the landing between floors.

  Boom!

  Boom!

  Boom!

  The pounding on the hollow wooden steps echoed in the halls, but I didn’t dare slow. Instead, I mustered as much speed as I could, arms pumping and thighs burning to propel me forward. I had every intention of catching that bastard and making him pay for what he had done.

  How arrogant he was to stick around to watch the fallout. He knew I would show. He wanted a reaction, to silently mock me. His decision ignited a vengeful fire inside me. Hot air blasted from my nostrils and the skin between my brows bunched tightly. I’m going to kill you!

  I burst out of the building, nearly shattering the glass door against the wall. I didn’t stop running until I reached the streetlight where I last saw him, but he had already disappeared. I had expected he would hide but not leave the area. He was near. He would continue to watch. I knew the type. They fed off the misery of others, relished in their kills, prolonging them if possible.

  I slowed my pace and kept to the middle of the one-lane road. There were streetlights every fifty yards or so, but in between, the night thrived. I reached behind and felt along my lower back. The knife I had purchased earlier was still safely tucked in my waistband.

  I approached an empty lot on the left. It looked as if it had been cleared for construction of a new apartment building. The edges were lined with small trees and bushes. In the middle there appeared to be a large trash pile, and the shell of a small vehicle rested near it.

  I softened my breaths, allowing my ears to pick up even the faintest noise that didn’t belong amongst the singing crickets and the soft rustling of the tree leaves. Even though I quieted my breath, there was nothing I could do to mute the drumming inside my chest.

  To the right of the road was a three-story dwelling. It looked like it was next on the chopping block: The windows were missing and the six-foot perimeter wall out front was partially demolished, leaving chunks of concrete scattered in front of the building. A large steel container filled with debris blocked a footpath into the parking lot, but with no wall, entry wasn’t a problem. I took a few steps closer.

  I know you’re here.

  I peered harder into the dark shadows, well aware of the increased pinching between my brow and the crinkling above them.

  Another half-step forward.

  Pause.

  Listen.

  Scan.

  Another step.

  I stood where the road and the edge of the property met, eyes shifting, peering, and penetrating the dark. But it was my ears that sounded the alarm.

  The slight crackle of gravel prompted me to spin just in time to see him running straight at me. I crouched low on both legs and exploded upward just as he reached me, using his momentum and my arms to push him up and over me. Like a rag doll, he spun around over me but still managed to land right side up on all fours. I kicked my right foot out quickly, and it glanced off the side of his head as he pulled back.

  I moved in as he stood, catching him square in his face with a knee strike before he could stand fully erect. His head snapped back, and he let out a grunt. As I brought my leg back down, I followed with a downward elbow strike to the crux of his neck and shoulder. He fell to one knee, but then wrapped his arms around my legs.

  He pushed forward, looking to take me down, but I shuffled back, avoiding it. I was relentless with multiple elbow strikes to either side of his head. It felt as if I were striking a bowling ball. I worried I didn’t have enough force behind each blow, but his grip loosened, and I grabbed the back of his head and forced it down into three consecutive knee strikes.

  The last strike buckled his legs, and he fell to his side. Blood smeared his face. His nose had swelled and the same was beginning to happen to his eyes as he struggled back to his feet. I delivered an upward kick to his face. His body fell forward, and he lay motionless, crumpled on the road. He wasn’t dead, but I had destroyed him within the span of ninety seconds. I used my foot to flip him over to his back before drawing my blade and straddling his chest.

  “Wake u
p!” I growled an inch from his face. I pressed the blade against his neck.

  He didn’t move. I nicked his neck with the tip of my knife. His eyelids opened.

  “Who are you?” I asked doing my best to control my voice from shaking.

  He stared at me briefly before a grin formed on his face. “I’m like you.”

  “Don’t compare yourself to me. It’s futile. Tell me your name.”

  “Anzor Mdivani,” he said between coughs.

  I had heard of that name, but that was where my knowledge of him ended. “Did the Wolf send you to kill me?”

  He let out another coughing fit. “You were never the target. The girl was.”

  “Why not? Why go through all of this trouble to eliminate these people when he could just target me?”

  “I don’t know his reasons. Why are you asking me these questions? You know as much as I do that we don’t question the job. We simply fulfill it.”

  “I’m nothing like you. I only deal with those who deserve to die.”

  “Then pat yourself on the back and enjoy a cookie.” Mdivani let out a dismissive breath. “Amina was my mark. It’s not personal. You of all people should understand that.”

  “You sound like a newbie reciting the rules.”

  He mumbled something I couldn’t understand.

  “What’s that?”

  “I said you’re as much to blame for her death as am I. Don’t you realize you led me right to her?”

  “How long have you been following me? Since Paris?”

  “How observant.”

  “But you weren’t the assassin that killed Feki and Yesmine at La Cite.”

  “I was hired to watch you, but my directives changed before I arrived in Vietnam. Your searching is only making it harder for you. We know who the marks are. You don’t. It’s only a matter of time before they are all found and executed.”

  “Do you even know why I want to find the Wolf?”

  He coughed out a chuckle. “Of course I do. I know about your daughter… I. Simply. Don’t. Care.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  I stood up and walked away, leaving Mdivani on the side of the road with my knife protruding from his throat. He had all but killed my chance to further the lead. It was heartbreaking to feel progress in motion only to have it come to an abrupt halt, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Not knowing what information Amina might have had pained me. Could she have led me to the Wolf? Could she have kept my hope alive?

  The following day, I left Bangkok beaten but not defeated. Giving up wasn’t in my DNA. My search would continue. That was a promise I vowed to keep.

  Chapter 69

  The Wolf walked through a carpeted corridor that led from his private office to an open sitting area in the rear of the compound. The entire left side of the hall was built out of reinforced glass, allowing him a view of the woods. He had purposely built the reinforced concrete wall around the compound fifty yards out so as not to feel like a caged animal.

  Hanging along the left wall were various medieval weapons that he had acquired over the years: a battle-axe, a double-edged long sword, a number of crossbows in various sizes, and a variety of spears and shields. He was fascinated with that age of terror and longed to own a castle with a moat. Currently, the compound suited his needs. It served as military bunker in the past and had long been abandoned when the Wolf discovered it and renovated it to his likings.

  The Wolf detoured through the kitchen and grabbed a can of cola from a stainless steel refrigerator. Most of his men were out searching for the list of people who worked at the clinic. Ivanovich was somewhere in the compound; the Wolf could hear his loud baritone voice echoing off the walls. He thought of finding Ivanovich, but the faint sounds of a little girl’s voice changed his mind. He continued through a door that led out of the building and into a twenty-foot-by-twenty foot clearing of the forest. Soft grass covered the ground, and a lone tree stump stood just off center.

  Mui stood on top of the foot-high stump while swinging her custom-made nunchucks from side to side. She was dressed in a red and white cotton jumpsuit and trainers. Her straight, black, shoulder-length hair swished with each swing. At the moment, the Wolf couldn’t help but think how much she looked like her mother.

  “Hi-yah!” she shouted with each swing of the padded sticks. A look of determination graced her face. When she noticed the Wolf watching her, she crinkled her brow harder and put more enthusiasm into her moves.

  The Wolf finished the last sip of his cola, crumpled the can, and threw it at her.

  Clink!

  She batted the can away with the nunchucks and then jumped off the stump. She landed with one of the sticks tucked firmly under her arm and the other held straight out in front.

  The Wolf clapped his hands as he walked toward her. “Excellent.”

  She relaxed her pose and then bowed. When she righted herself, a large smile sat on her face. “I’m getting better,” she said, her eyelids blinking enthusiastically as she brushed her bangs off to the side.

  “Yes, you are.”

  The Wolf placed his hand behind Mui’s head and pulled her toward him.

  She wrapped her arms around his hips, unable to reach all the way around, and squeezed. Her cheek was squished, causing her to mumble her words.

  “Speak up, Mui.”

  She pulled her head back, her light brown eyes beaming wide with pride. “I said I’m going to be the best, Papa.”

  “I believe you. Now, let’s work on your strength.”

  Abby learns why some family secrets are best left as secrets.

  Coming in early 2016.

  A Note From Ty Hutchinson

  Thank you for reading CONTRACT: SICKO. If you’re a fan of Sei, spread the word to friends, family, book clubs, and reader groups online. You can also help get the word out by leaving a review. If you do leave one, send me an email with the link. Or if you just want to tell me something, email me anyway. I love hearing from readers. I can be reached at thutchinson@me.com.

  Better yet, sign up for my Super Secret Newsletter and receive “First Look” content. Be in the know about my future releases and what I’m up to. There will even be opportunities to win free books and whatever else I can think of. Oh, and I promise not to spam you with unnecessary crap or share your email address. Sign up now at http://eepurl.com/zKJHz.

  Visit me at my blog or on my Facebook page.

  TyHutchinson.com

  Facebook

  The Novels of Ty Hutchinson

  Sei Assassin Thrillers

  Contract: Snatch

  Contract: Sicko

  Abby Kane FBI Thrillers

  Corktown

  Tenderloin

  Russian Hill (CC Trilogy #1)

  Lumpini Park (CC Trilogy #2)

  Coit Tower (CC Trilogy #3)

  Kowloon Bay

  Darby Stansfield Thrillers

  Chop Suey

  Stroganov

  Loco Moco

  Other Thrilling Reads

  The Perfect Plan

  The St. Petersburg Confession

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, Ty Hutchinson.

  Published by Ty Hutchinson

  Copyright © 2015 by Ty Hutchinson

  Cover Design: Damonza

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  C
hapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Kowloon Bay

  A Note From Ty Hutchinson

  The Novels of Ty Hutchinson

  Copyright

 

 

 


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