Hitman: Enemy Within Read Online Free

before they both took a step back.
    BK and the Reaper were acquaintances, according to a file that 47 had been given, but nothing more, which was important to remember if the assassin was going to fool him.
    “Haven’t seen you in four years—but you’re still one ugly son of a bitch,” the Kahuna growled affectionately. “What happened? I’d swear you were a good thirty pounds heavier the last time we saw each other.”
    “Prison food sucks,” 47 complained. “But I’m starting to bulk up again.”
    “There you go!” BK agreed approvingly. “What you need is some meat and potatoes! Come on. We’ve been waiting for you.”
    “So, who’s the party favor?” the assassin inquired, as the former wrestler led him past the body.
    “We don’t know his real name,” the Big Kahuna answered matter-of-factly. “But Marla pegged him as an FBI agent—and she was right.”
    Agent 47 was just about to ask who Marla was when a woman stepped up beside them.
    “Did someone mention my name?” She wore leathers, and made them look good. Two other women were present as well, both of whom had pretty faces and large breasts. But this one was different. Looking into her bright green eyes, it was like looking into a bottomless well. Somehow, without being told, the assassin knew that Marla was the most dangerous person in the room, outside of himself, that is….
    But what was this woman’s role? Given the fact most of the people present were male—and the other females were clearly here for recreational purposes, she was an enigma.
    “Hello, I’m Marla,” she said softly, as she extended her hand. “You’re the Reaper. I’ve heard of you.”
    Her grip was strong, and cold.
    Careful to stay in character, 47 held on to Marla’s ice-cold hand at least three seconds longer than necessary, and ogled her ample cleavage.
    “And you must be the answer to my prayers,” he replied solemnly, before finally releasing her hand. But somehow 47 could tell that Marla wasn’t buying it, as the Big Kahuna replied on her behalf.
    “She’s out of your league, Mel,” the big man said dismissively. “So don’t waste your time.” The two of them were separated as one of the Big K’s flunkies led 47 to brand-new, executive-style leather chairs that must have been purchased for the occasion. The big man took his own position, and opened the meeting with a tiresome review of the brotherhood’s successes. The woman named Marla stood over his right shoulder and it seemed to 47 that she spent most of her time staring at him. She knew.
    Which would make the task of killing her supersized lover that much more difficult. Video blossomed on a 60-inch flat-panel monitor that had been set up off to one side, as the six men seated at the table were treated to a financial presentation similar to what any board of directors might see. But 47was more interested in the men seated around him than in how many tons of grass the brotherhood had successfully smuggled in fromCanada . Judging from the cigarettes half of them hadlit, at least some of the profits were going up in smoke.
    While most of the gang leaders were fairly attentive, one rather ugly specimen had already nodded off, and was soon facedown on the table. A phone chimed, and its owner stood up and walked some distance away in order to take the call. But the rest were paying attention and interjected questions from time to time—queries that seemed to cast doubt on the veracity of the Big Kahuna’s facts and figures. But the Big K’s entourage was sizable, and the guests were seriously outgunned, so they had very little choice but to accept the crime boss’s answers.For the moment at least. Later, when they reunited with their gangs, the trash talk would begin. A full thirty minutes elapsed before the last pie chart disappeared and bottles of cold beer were distributed.
    “So,” the Big Kahuna said, as he began to summarize, “We have plenty to celebrate…but we’re facing some