A Touch of Deceit (Nick Bracco Series #1) Read Online Free

Nick’s mind. It was the image of a lipstick kiss his wife left for him on the mirror that morning. It hung there like the single digit sum to the chalkboard-crammed equation of his life. The kiss said everything that needed to be said. Suddenly, the floor seemed to be moving and he realized it was his legs wobbling beneath him.
    “Nicholas,” the assassin said, breaking into Nick’s death dream. “I found two guns on the black man’s corpse. We both know who they belong to.”
    Matt freed the wooden leg and motioned with his hand encouraging Nick to engage the killer in some dialog. The lipstick kiss evaporated.
    “Nicholas,” Rashid said. “Is that your partner with you? Mathew?”
    Rashid’s voice jarred him back to consciousness. The evil seeped through the door like toxic waste.
    Nick’s heart felt as if it would burst through his chest. He forced himself to concentrate. He wasn’t about to accommodate his assassin with any concessions.
    “Nicholas, you may as well speak. They will most certainly be your last words.”
    Nick instantly went from resignation to anger. Fury built up inside of him like a bolt of adrenalin. He could practically see Rashid’s teeth showing through his shark-like grin.
    “Rashid,” Nick said, “wipe that smile off your face.”
    A small chuckle from behind the door. “Nicholas, I should have killed you in Istanbul.”
    “You didn’t kill me in Istanbul because you couldn’t,” Nick said. “Just like now.”
    A pop. The silenced bullet shot through the door and buzzed past Nick’s ear. Both agents hit the floor, their heads only a couple of feet apart. They scurried behind the sofa across from Ray.
    “He’s being cautious,” Matt whispered. “We got lucky once. He won’t make that mistake again.”
    “Or he’s relishing the moment,” Nick said. “Prolonging the pleasure.”
    “Whatever he’s doing, we’ve got thirty seconds, maybe sixty if he’s in a sporting mood.”
    Nick nodded. He pointed to the door. “How does he come in? Heavy, or slow?”
    “He busts through, dives right and shoots around the room starting from his right.”
    “Agreed.”
    Another pop. This time the sound was louder. He was alternating guns. The bullet passed through the dilapidated sofa with little resistance. Rashid had them. Without return fire he would be on top of them in a matter of moments.
    Matt gripped the table leg and got to a knee. He pointed at the door. “I’ll wait for him to barge through. He’ll see me first and fire, but I might get one swing in. It’s our only chance.”
    Nick shook his head. “No. It’s suicide.”
    “Of course it’s suicide. What, you think I was going to beat Rashid with a stick against his two guns.”
    Nick thought a moment. Two guns. “You’re right. He’s got a gun in each hand.”
    “Now you’re catching on. That’s why you’re the brains of the team.”
    “How’s he going to turn the doorknob with a gun in each hand?”
    Matt blinked. “What the fuck difference does that make? You see that thing, it’s barely hanging on its hinges.”
    “Exactly,” Nick said, his voice growing stronger with each cogent thought. “He rams into that door with any momentum at all and it will give way.”
    The both of them stared at the door.
    “Nicholas,” Rashid’s voice sounded impatient.
    “Okay,” Matt whispered. “What if I remove the hinges?”
    “Yes,” Nick said. “He leans into it and it comes straight down. Rashid won’t expect it and for a moment, he’ll be exposed. Just a moment.”
    Again a bullet spit through the flimsy door and this one plunged into Ray Seville’s chest. By the amount of blood hemorrhaging through his shirt, Nick could tell that the bullet had found his heart. The poor bastard never saw it coming.
    Nick turned to Matt. “That’s precisely how much time you get. One moment. Don’t miss.”
    Matt’s eyes had a glimmer of hope. As he crawled to the door with the table leg, he looked back and