Buku Kiss My Assassin: A Charles Bishop Novel by Dave Sinclair
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Kiss My Assassin: A Charles Bishop Novel by Dave Sinclair

Author:Dave Sinclair [Sinclair, Dave]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Published: 2019-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

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Kiss My Assassin: A Charles Bishop Novel by Dave Sinclair

Chapter Nine

“Wait. Wait.”

Bishop’s brain was trying to catch up. The hooded figure, the one from the estate, the railway station, the dunes, was Astrid. She had never been stalked by a grey-hooded figure. It was her all along.

 

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Kiss My Assassin: A Charles Bishop Novel by Dave Sinclair

Author:Dave Sinclair [Sinclair, Dave] , Date: June 28, 2019

,Views: 40

Author:Dave Sinclair [Sinclair, Dave]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Published: 2019-06-23T16:00:00+00:00
Chapter Nine

“Wait. Wait.”

Bishop’s brain was trying to catch up. The hooded figure, the one from the estate, the railway station, the dunes, was Astrid. She had never been stalked by a grey-hooded figure. It was her all along.

“Why didn’t you kill me at the train station?”

Astrid crinkled her nose in amusement, an action Bishop had once found adorable. “Out of all the questions you could possibly ask, that’s the one you go with?”

The gun in her hand hung motionless. There was no quiver; it wasn’t heavy or unfamiliar in her hand.

“Just wondering. You seem awfully keen at the moment to put a bullet in me.” Bishop’s words were casual, but his eyes searched for a weapon, any weapon. “Yet at the station you could have taken me out, but you chose the gent we were about to interrogate.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “What can I say? I was momentarily overcome with sentimentality.”

“And now?”

The gun barrel inched closer. “The moment has passed.”

The face before Bishop was completely foreign. It had the exact same beautifully crafted features, but was bereft of all tenderness, humour and sympathy. It was a harsh, unforgiving face, one without mercy, without pity.

An occasional car or lorry sped down the highway, but none stopped. They were either oblivious to the forthcoming execution or indifferent. Lying on the ground injured and without weapons, Bishop saw no way out. Even his charm would not thaw Astrid’s cold, wrathful stare.

With a bored sigh, as if keen to get it over with, Astrid asked, “Any last words?”

From the corner of his eye, Bishop saw a car with a single headlight.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Bishop propped himself up on an elbow and nodded. “Goodbye, Astrid.”

Curiosity creased her face. Astrid tilted her head. “What’s that supposed to—”

The car skidded sideways, slowing its momentum, but when it hit her, the glancing blow was enough to send her flying. Astrid careened 5 metres before thumping into the sand dune, where she lay motionless.

Staggering upright, Bishop saw the beaming face behind the wheel of the taxi. Wincing through the pain, Bishop limped over to the driver’s side.

“You want a taxi, Mister?” Zoya’s white teeth positively shone.

Bishop scowled. “I thought I told you to get far away from here.”

Zoya shrugged. “Yeah, I’m terrible at following instructions. As my teacher at school always said, look out!”

For a fraction of a second Bishop wondered why Zoya’s teacher had told her to look out. Then the windscreen exploded.

He dove for the ground. The gunshots echoed through the night air, there was no doubt where they had come from. Astrid stood unsteadily, holding the pistol with two hands. Her clothes were ripped and blood coated half her face from some unseen wound. She staggered forward, firing relentlessly into the taxi. Her eyes blazed with unhinged fury.

When the bullets stopped, Bishop rose shakily to his feet. He hesitantly examined the interior of the taxi. The driver was riddled with red bullet holes, her lifeless eyes staring at the distant stars.

Zoya was dead.

“The fucking bitch hit me with a car!” Astrid limped towards the taxi.

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