The Target by Lexy Timms EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Lexy Timms
- Language: English
- Genre:Action & Adventure Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Theo
THE BAR WAS LIKE EVERY other bar dark and meant to hide secrets. It
could have been anywhere in the world, but it happened to be in
Casablanca. The people who hunched in the shadows were men and
women, each caught up in their own personal drama. They came to drown
their sorrows in a pint of beer or maybe even something stronger if the
situation allowed.
I pushed my way in, having received a tip that “The Sleeper,” a deadly
assassin I was determined to kill, was in that very building. The intel came
from channels I didn’t trust, but it was the best lead I’d had in three months.
I’d chased The Sleeper all across the world, from the remote foothills of
the Himalayas to the bright lights of Japan. Casablanca was one of those
cities where people came to forget themselves. Full of tourists and cartels, it
had all the glamor and none of the regulation of the European ports. That
made it a perfect place for underground activities.
My mission was to get in, identify the assassin, and take them out.
Quick and cold without alerting the authorities. If I could toss them in a
dumpster and wipe my hands of the whole affair, I could get back to
London by the weekend. No one would be any the wiser, except my
handler.
I was well versed in covert affairs and had enough secrets rattling
around in my brain to worry the people in charge. Though I prided myself
on my loyalty to MI6, you could never be too careful. In my line of work,
people got hung out to dry on any given Tuesday, and the world marched
on, unaware.
Entering the bar, I checked the exits first. There was one for the staff
and one that led to the bathrooms. A stairway in one corner went up,
possibly to tenant apartments. And there was the door behind me, to my
back, allowing no one to escape my notice.
In a bar that could have held at least fifty people on a good night, there
might have been fifteen. A couple in the corner was arguing over
something. She looked too young for him, and he was probably throwing
money at her to keep her around. Two single guys at the bar looked like
foreign businessmen, come to lose themselves in the exotic lowlife. A
group of men sat around a table, playing drinking games and enjoying life.
And a lone female hiker was reading Catcher in the Rye in a booth, sipping
a cheap American beer.
None of them stood out as being potential assassins, so I moved on,
carefully documenting everything I saw. In my line of work, you never
knew when the smallest detail would become a matter of life or death. The
way the ceiling fan rotated, the number of empty shot glasses on the bar—
any of it could hold importance.
That’s when I saw a redheaded bombshell sipping whiskey out of a
crystal glass, staring at her phone. She wore a skintight dress that stopped
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