Path of the Tiger, стр. 433
‘Why are we stopping?’ Ranomi asked. ‘We have to get around this corner to get access to the stairs that’ll take us to the next level. Trust me, I’ve got the blueprint of this building memorized in my head.’
‘We’re not going that way anymore,’ Zakaria replied.
‘What?! Why not?’
Zakaria pointed his gun at Adriana.
‘That’s why,’ he grunted. ‘This girl’s striking resemblance to William’s Aurora is no mere coincidence, no, not at all. It is a deliberate setup; I’m absolutely certain of this. Somehow, word of our mission has been leaked. And since Kimiko has suddenly disappeared, as has Chloe, I have even more reason to suspect that we’re walking into a trap.’
‘He’s right,’ Njinga added. ‘I thought something was up when we were confronted by not two or three but twelve or thirteen Hunstmen troops, all armed to the teeth behind improvised barricades; it was like they were waitin’ for us, like they knew exactly where we were gonna be, when we were gonna be there. That’s why we’re switching to Plan B.’
Ranomi’s face contorted into an expression that was both surprise and intense indignation.
‘Plan B?! What on earth is Plan B?! I wasn’t told about this!’
‘No, and neither was anyone else,’ Zakaria said. ‘Nobody knows about Plan B except myself and Njinga. We kept it a tight secret between us because of the possibility that something like this might happen.’
‘Something like this? What do you mean?’
Zakaria smiled grimly, with an eerie light glistening in his single good eye.
‘Something like Sigurd and the Huntsmen knowing we were coming tonight. In other words, betrayal on the part of one of our number. If there had been but one plan, we would now be walking into a trap with no way out. But with another plan, a secret plan that only two of us knew about – the two of us who organised this entire raid – well then we would have a backup in case anything went wrong. You were not an organiser, Ranomi, and neither was William. Nor was Sharaf, nor Awang, nor Kimiko, nor the child. And that’s why all of you only got one version of the plan. The fewer that knew about it, the safer a secret it was.’
Ranomi’s fiery temper had been awakened, though, and she refused to be placated by this explanation.
‘Well that’s just great, boss! I’ll be calling you that from now on, boss, as it’s painfully apparent that equality – something we all agreed on prior to the start of this mission – has been thrown out of the window. Hell, any pretences of egalitarianism were just a farce all along, weren’t they?! Why, I—’
‘Stop.’ Zakaria’s voice was calm and his tone was even, but there was an undercurrent of a powerful threat in it, and it carried enough weight to silence the feisty woman. ‘Have you forgotten what’s at stake here, Ranomi?’ he continued. ‘Now is not the time to talk politics, and it’s certainly not the place to let your wounded ego take centre stage. Feel free to castigate and excoriate Njinga and I with as much vehemence as you want … after we make it out of here alive. I don’t care if you hate us then, but right now there are more pressing concerns. There’s a time for opinions and a time for arguments. Now is not that time.’
‘But—’
‘Stop. Just stop.’
Ranomi scowled, the muscles of her jaw taut, bulging like frozen caterpillars beneath her tea-coloured skin, but she deferred to Zakaria’s authority.
‘That’s that,’ he said, calm and collected. ‘The elevators and stairwells may seem like the only ways to get to the upper floors, but there is actually another path we can take. Remember all that rock-climbing practice we did in training? Well, we’re about to put it into practice.’
***
Hrothgar was breathing hard, and not just from the exertion of the slaughter he had just perpetrated. The bloodletting had awoken in him a ravenous sexual hunger, as it always did. His python-like member was pulsating, throbbing and hot as a glowing blade pulled fresh from a blacksmith’s forge, and it was pressing with an almost painful force against the inside of his left trouser leg.
He needed to fuck, right now; all other concerns be damned. Around him the butchered remains of five of the most powerful people in the world lay scattered, their entrails, blood and strewn body parts a grisly tableau of brutality; the reds, crimsons, slick greys and glistening purples of various internal organs and viscera a jolting contrast to the subdued tones of the room, now re-illuminated after Hrothgar had turned the backup lighting in this section of the building on.
The only other person left alive in the room was CC-105, a young, broad-shouldered Middle Eastern man, the only remaining member of Hrothgar’s team of assassins. Staring hungrily at CC-105, Hrothgar parted his lips in an evil smirk, revealing a flash of artificially whitened teeth with a hint of red tongue. Man or woman; it did not matter to him – although his preference veered more frequently towards males. And as he feasted on the sight of CC-105’s toned, muscular body, spattered as it was with blood, he felt an irresistible urge flooding his already-saturated organ with even more hormone-heavy blood.
‘CC-105, come over here,’ he rasped. ‘We have something to take care of before we proceed to the next phase of the mission.’
CC-105, whose chiselled face was a calm, emotionless sketch of blankness, walked over to Hrothgar, casually stepping over the scattered limbs, severed heads and gore-slick body parts as if they were nothing more than toys left on the floor by some careless child.
‘Don’t you need to send your message?’ CC-105 asked flatly. ‘I was instructed that an urgent message had to be sent from your tablet immediately after these servants of the Evil One were taken care of. I have the password,