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On the balcony, numerous armed Prentians stood in a protective perimeter around Niehl. Below, guards roamed through the growing crowd. She tagged a soldier out of uniform at a vending cart, the bulge at the side of his hip a dead giveaway.
Using her infrared goggles to determine who carried weapons down there and who didn’t, she discovered several others. Most were centered around the main building. This wasn’t typical security. Seraphina supposed she should feel honored. It was a lot of fire power for one woman.
The positioning of the guards implied they expected Tempest to walk right up to attack Niehl. She huffed under her breath. None considered the danger could be right in front of their faces. With her long range laser, the rooftop was perfect for what she needed to do.
Especially since her prior kills had been made with poison and knife work. Her trainer had made sure she could slide a blade quickly and cleanly across an opponent’s throat as easy as she could take them out with a sniper shot.
Niehl’s tone changed as he started to wind down. He waved his hand in each direction, pretending to care about the populace. She ran her fingers softly over the trigger. Now or never.
“For Coco,” she whispered as she always did prior to a kill.
Three.
Two.
One.
Her finger tightened and she fired.
***
Frustration bunchedRook’s jaw as he scanned the large crowd of milling Prentians applauding Niehl’s speech. From his position at ground level, he had a good view of anyone coming or going to the building.
As of this morning’s update, the transport supposedly arriving with Tempest had pulled into the station right on time, no delays. Security monitors tracked all debarking passengers prepared to arrest her on sight.
Digital recognition programs scanned every face. Nothing. No one matching Tempest’s description came through. They’d set sensors to track her distinct gait and mannerisms from Ice Ball party footage. Everything came up negative for a match.
Yet, Rook couldn’t shake the feeling she’d made it through all their safeguards. “Hunter One, clear.”
“Hunter Two, all clear.” Kjar was positioned on the balcony slightly hidden in the doorway near Niehl Quai to act as a direct line of defense in case of a confrontational approach from Tempest. Four of her seven kills had been made with the clean swipe of a blade across the throat while the remaining three had died from ingesting benzphate, the same poison found in Daliss’ tox results.
“Hunter Three, clear,” Hahn said from his position somewhere in the crowd.
“Clear for Hunter Four,” Dorian chimed in. He’d assumed a spot farther down the paved street.
No signs of Tempest. Rook cursed under his breath and clenched his fingers. Shewashere. He knew it, felt it. A deep rumbling growl worked its way up his chest, drawing a stare from the guard on the street beside him. He ignored him and continued to look up and down the area for anyone suspicious.
Thunderous cheers rang out. He glanced up. Niehl had finished his speech to rousing applause. Rook tensed again and touched the laser he wore. A second later, he dropped his hand. Protecting someone who actively engaged in the drug trade made him feel like a fraud. Tempest was trying to rid the world of evil, even if she was misguided in her methods.
It would be so easy to turn his head the other way and let her take out the other man. Then he remembered Hahn’s words earlier today, the smirk from Kjar and the nod of respect from Dorian. He couldn’t do it. Rook couldn’t let Tempest get away with this. Not when his team counted and trusted him to do what was right.
“Hunter One, we have motion street side,” Kjar reported.
Rook turned left and right, searching for what Kjar saw from his view above. Too many people. The crowd ebbed and flowed as some began to leave now that the speech was over.
“Get Niehl inside,” Rook ordered.
“That’s a negative. Niehl has decided to posture on the balcony for another five.” Kjar’s tone voiced his disagreement with that plan.
“I have her. Blonde woman ten yards to your left, Hunter One,” Hahn said.
Moving in that direction, Rook tapped his comm. “Hunter One, copy.”
“Hunter Four moving in from the west.”
Rook caught Dorian’s eye over the heads of people and they both headed toward the short haired, busty blonde. With her back to them, she gestured grandly and spoke in animated conversation with two other attendees. Rook’s nape tingled. He slowed. This didn’t feel right. He paused to scan the crowd once more and squinted up at the sky.
A glint flickered, the light reflecting in a way that didn’t seem natural. His Argoran senses flared. He shifted on his heels, turning in the opposite direction of the blonde and his gaze settled on the building directly across from the Assembly Hall. There. The glint had come from the roof of the other building.
