Chapter - 296
The standoff was a perfect, silent, adrenaline-soaked painting of mutual self-destruction.
In the ruined doorway of the Morningstar Motel, Room 114, stood Nadia. The woman who was Jemimah, who was Raven. She was a vision in tactical black, her face a mask of pale, cold fury, an SMG held with professional stillness. Her two goons, hired muscle who were suddenly and profoundly aware they were out of their league, flanked her, their own weapons trembling slightly as they aimed into the trashed room.
Inside, Rick and Sharon. Two bloody, exhausted figures. Sharon, her cop instincts screaming, had her pistol raised, but she didn't know who to aim at. Rick, looking almost bored, was leaning against the wall, the black laptop held loosely in one hand.
The air was thick, unbreathable.
"Well, well, well..."
