![]() ![]() She pushed away the memory that engulfed her mind, the towering flames, the terrible cries, and looked him straight in the eye. Follow the fallback protocol.” His last-minute instruction, as she’d zipped up the flight suit in the drafty hangar: “Always remember who you’re doing this for, Kate.” “Concentrate on your target, keep escape in the back of your mind,” her handler, Stepney, had reminded her en route to the airfield outside London Friday night. No breeze the air lay still, weighted with heat. The spreading sunrise to her left outlined the few clouds like a bronze pencil, and lit her target area. She needed to stay awake.Īs apricot dawn blushed over the rooftop chimneys, she checked the bullets, calibrated and adjusted the telescopic mount, as she had every few hours. Took another one of the pink pills and a swig of water. She dipped her scarf in the water bottle, wiped her face and neck. She smelled the faint garden aroma of Pears soap on her silk blouse, which was dampened by perspiration. Her knee throbbed-she had bruised it on that stupid fence as the parachute landed in the barnyard. She moved into a crouch on the wood parquet floor in front of the balcony and winced. It was her second day waiting in the deserted apartment, the Lee-Enfield rifle beside her. Kate’s ears attuned to the night birds, the creaking settling of the old building, distant water gushing in the gutters. Sacré-Cœur’s dome faded to a pale pearl in the light of dawn outside the fourth-story window. ![]()
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