Prologue
She's strange, like something out of a night terror. I can't stop shaking, looking at her,
Belstaff Kids, feeling her soft breath against my shoulder. The curly,
gucci veste, soft tendrils of red hair cascade wildly against the pillow and bed that we share. She is beautiful. No other way to describe someone so,
Coach Sonnenbrillen, beautiful.
The exhilaration of holding her close clamps my chest, I can barely breath, my heart pumping in wild rhythms so loud in my ears I'm sure she can hear it. She'll wake soon. And we'll leave for the airport.
It's not long after I close my eyes again that I hear it. A strange tapping I know, but someone without familiarity wouldn't. It is the gentle tap of a rifle against the window pane. She hasn't stirred.
He slides the window open in the corner of my eye. A small lump of a Japanese man stalks in through the tiny opening, he's so quiet it's like I've gone deaf. His dark clothing masks him as he slinks over the hardwood floors of the bedroom.
I don't let him know I'm awake. If I lose advantage over this well known watcher he's likely to take that opportunity, killing me and my angel to usurp the position I hold with the boss. He's a whore for promotion.
By the time he is next to the bed I've slid my magnum from behind the headboard. She still sleeps peacefully, head resting gently on my shoulder, as he sits so quietly I barely even feel his weight disturb the bed springs.
Before he can even ready himself the barrel of my gun is engaging him in a contest he'd never win. If he blinks, it shouts victory through his skull. His snake-like lips part to reveal teeth yellowed by smoking and coffee.
"Hisashiburi da ne?"
I have no freaking clue what he's talking about so I just smile when he does. Given his position I doubt he'd be insulting. His eyes drift down to Joyce sleeping peacefully beside me.
"Kirei na onna��chi��taihen sekai da��" I slide out from under Joyce; she's such a heavy sleeper her rhythm doesn't even vary.
He scurries to the center of the room in such bends he's almost inhuman. How the hell can a creature move like that,
MBT Futaba Para Los Hombres, perch parrot-like on the edge of a chair, and not even make a sound?
"What do you want?" The Eye is rarely sent to assassinate, he's an observer and specializes in surveillance. Nells knows how to use his personnel. He's come with a message for me.
"Onna wa��abunaidekure." He shifts his eyes to the sleeping beauty under the sheets. The smile vanishes from his lips, covering those hateful, yellow fangs. He widens his eyes and pulls the bottom lid down with his index finger to an almost obscene level.
"My eyes see everything." In the years I've known Eye he's only spoken in Japanese,
Nike Air Rift, his accent is thick and almost hard to understand. He shifts his gaze, still perverse, to Joyce, encompassing the angelic stranger in his observations. He knows why she's running, why she agreed to come with me, and so simply casts doubt on my motivations.
"So what does Nells want with her?" The Eye leaps toward the window using his toes go grip the ledge in a nearly impossible position.
"Anata wa onna ga koroshi nakerebanarimasen." He raises his hand,
Gucci Sacs A Main, sticking out his index and thumb, points at Joyce and very simply, "Bang." A language that transcends.
It's my job, if I don't like it tough shit. He edges out the window, quietly laughing.
"Sayonara, Lawrence-san."
Related articles:
http://www.thextop.org/index.php?p=blogs/viewstory/3391
http://www.heyunfeng.com/haohanwang/admin/login.asp