Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
His leopards wore small blue dots in their fur to identify them, seen only by his snipers, but that didn’t guarantee that in the heat of battle, when the leopards were rolling around, a bullet couldn’t hit one accidently. No one ever wanted to answer to Sevastyan if that happened—so they made certain it didn’t happen.
Shturm used his claw to rip at an exposed throat, not that it would get him much. Their coats were so thick and loose, it was difficult to actually get down to skin and bone, but he opened the unwary male up as he passed him in his effort to get to the one he sought, the black-coated leopard who he was certain was the commander taking his orders from whoever was out behind the meadow.
The moment you kill this one, head for the meadow. You need to kill the one directing them all, Shturm, Sevastyan instructed his leopard.
He could only hope Rolan was arrogant enough to assume he could actually plan and direct a battle with mercenaries. Rolan would have someone aiding him, a man in charge of the mercenaries, one they all took orders from. Rolan would have a lieutenant. Who would be his second-in-command? That would be the man he would rely heavily on. That man would first recruit someone to find and then hire mercenaries from all over the world. He would want reliable ones, experienced in fighting. Who would be Rolan’s lieutenant?
Shturm was on his opponent, the two leopards coming together like two stallions, rearing up on their powerful hind legs, slashing at each other with hooked claws and terrible teeth. Shturm turned slightly to avoid getting his genitals slashed while he delivered a deep rip down the side of his opponent, slicing right through thick fur with practiced care to get to the skin covering muscles. He tore those open long before his front legs came back to the ground.
The leopard howled its hatred and pain, whirling to face Shturm, calling to another leopard for aid. His companions were otherwise occupied and, in any case, Shturm drove into his side, hitting him so hard he knocked him off his feet. There was an audible crack as ribs broke. The cat screamed loudly, turning its head toward the meadow.
Down, roll, Sevastyan commanded, nearly taking over the leopard’s form.
Shturm rolled right over the top of the fallen leopard, dropping to the ground on the other side of him, teeth buried in his throat in a suffocating bite just as a bullet skimmed across the leopard’s back where Shturm had been. He now had the body of the leopard between him and the meadow.
The moment a shot was fired from the meadow, there was an answer from the garage roof. Sevastyan hoped he’d chosen the right snipers. He needed them to make those kill shots every time. The moment the leopard was dead, Shturm lifted his head cautiously and looked toward the meadow and their enemies. Sevastyan was still racking his brain for who Rolan could have gotten for a decent lieutenant. Whoever had put this attack together was good. Had Sevastyan not brought in so much help, he would have been in trouble.
Shturm, remember the kid—Conrad. His name was Conrad something. He was a couple of years younger than I was and he was always hanging around, staying close, staying real quiet. He was learning. A smart kid. It’s got to be him.
You helped him. Stole food for him. For his family. Took the blame for his mistakes. Taught him to use a gun, taught him to fight, Shturm objected.
It’s him. Rolan would use him. He thinks when I confront the kid, I’ll hesitate. He also thinks because I trained Conrad, he’ll be able to best you. He forgets that there are a lot of years between then and now.
The kid trained as well in the intervening years, Shturm reminded with a disdainful huff.
Sevastyan pushed down all emotion. Rolan should have remembered that even at a young age, he’d learned to separate from all feeling and take his punishments, no matter how cruel Rolan, Lazar or their leopards could be.
Shturm broke free of the fighting leopards, but he did so out of sight of anyone in the meadow watching. He had thrown himself back into the middle of the dark fray, all those bodies of leopards, and had made his way to the edge of the landscaping where higher bushes marked the beginning of the routes to the trees or the meadow. Shturm took the trail to the meadow, only as he did so, he crouched low, almost on his belly.
It didn’t take long before Istrebitel joined him, silently dragging his body, using his toes to dig into the surfaces so that he made no sound as they crept across the meadow they spent hours training in every day. Vikenti and Zinoviy, looking almost like twin golden leopards with their dark bursts of rosettes covering their bodies all the way down their long tails and up over their ears and faces, were on either side of Istrebitel and Shturm, approximately six feet apart. Kyanite’s powerful male joined them, all muscle, a rare Persian leopard who had migrated to Borneo and found Drake Donovan like so many others. They made up their team, the one Sevastyan had trained for the last year to cover anything that might threaten Mitya and Ania from this open side of the house. A battle might rage near it, but this side was always going to be the one place they were weakest.