Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“That’s why we need Grace,” Corvo spoke for the first time in a deep, raspy Hispanic accent. “Meridian’s never eliminated from that distance.”
It’d be a record-breaking shot. And the higher-ups were confident that his Grace could do it.
Mirage glanced over at his partner. He recognized the drive burning in Grace’s eyes.
After several more hours of planning, they had their assignment locked tight.
Spectre rattled off the final details.
“You leave at twenty-one hundred. Your rendezvous points will be provided midflight. The team is already equipping your transport with your standard artillery, surveillance gear, and a 308 Daniel Delta.”
What the— Holy shit!
Mirage knew how much Grace loved his SAKO, but the Delta was one of the best sniper rifles ever invented and accessible only to the United States Marine Corps Special Forces.
He and Grace had been inducted into the league of extraordinary men and women.
The ride in the elevator was strained with the heavy weight of their mission on Mirage’s mind, but Grace’s silence was heavier.
He eased in tight on his partner’s heels, close enough for him to feel his body heat and his confidence.
Grace stopped in front of their door, his head lowered and his body language radiating concern.
Mirage knew why.
He inched closer until his lips were on the nape of Grace’s neck.
“Nothing has changed.”
Grace grunted.
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Everything will be different from here on, Mirage. Since I’ve touched you, held you, sucked on your tongue, and tasted your sweetness— If I lose you now, I won’t be able to…”
Grace’s voice dripped with anguish.
These were such new feelings for his partner, and Mirage ached for him.
“You can’t lose your shadow, Grace. It’ll always be there.”
Mirage wrapped his arms around Grace’s waist and placed his palm over his heart until he felt him relax in his embrace.
He breathed in his partner’s scent of leather and vanilla, allowing it to comfort him before they slowly broke apart and entered their own apartments.
They had pre-battle rituals, and they didn’t involve each other.
Mirage needed solitude to prepare his mind, and following Grace into his condo and spending these last few hours in his arms would distract him to the point that he wouldn’t want to get up when the moon rose.
Grace
Grace sat statue-still with his hands steepled in front of him.
The hood of his leather trench was lowered to the tips of his lashes.
He looked down at Hamburg, Germany, from the helicopter window.
He wanted to admire the architecture of the tops of Romanesque churches and the artful nouveau mansions. But he stared unseeing at the intricate winding canals, rivers, and bridges that connected the islands like arteries. The muted golden lights of the sleeping city did nothing to calm the pounding of his heart.
He wasn’t frightened. He was ready to complete this mission that would change the world.
Their stealth transport circled the vacated building while they waited for Spectre to complete the rescan of each floor before they descended.
Regardless that it was three in the morning and unlikely any laborers remodeling the tower would still be at work, their handler always triple- and quadruple-checked their intel.
“All clear.” Spectre gave the final confirmation in their earpieces that the seventy-five-story building was empty.
“I’m pissed with this delay from Woyashi’s scanners, fellas. But I’m still here. Stay sharp and stay alert.”
Upon the door opening, he and Mirage exchanged a final glance, their gazes meeting in a brief flicker of understanding—we’ve got this—before they propelled onto the rooftop.
With their duffel bags slung across their backs, he and Mirage raced down the stairwell, kicking up dust from the debris-covered floors, until they reached the sixty-fifth level.
Grace made his way to the hollow window socket sealed with plastic.
He cut out a decent-sized hole while Mirage squatted and removed his set of quality optics night vision binoculars to scan the area.
The surrounding shopping centers closed at ten and the clubs at two. There was little to no foot traffic below, and Mirage gave him the go-ahead.
Grace found the perfect vantage point before he began to set up his weapon.
Lifting the recoil pad was the final step of assembling the Daniel Delta before Grace laid down, pressing his belly to the concrete floor.
In one hour, the commander general would be evacuated from the facility.
When the Kenjuka Clan began to mobilize, Grace was ready to eliminate his targets from fifty-three hundred yards away.
Mirage
It was approaching oh four hundred hours, and they were lying in the same position as two hours before.
Grace was at his side, his eye an inch away from his own scope.
“I’ve got movement,” Mirage whispered.
“Awaiting confirmation of target.”
“Standby,” Mirage responded.
Spectre would still be in the strategy room with his eyes narrowed on the satellite feed, but their handler being delayed fifteen minutes was a huge handicap.
Mirage could see the twelve men loading into the four unmarked vans, but Grace wouldn’t move or take aim until Mirage gave him a solid green on Woyashi and Zelmir Benton.