Better Off Dead: (Victor the Assassin 4) Read Online Free

flashlight.
    The Dane, gun in her right hand, held up three fingers of her left hand to the others. Then two.
    One.

FOUR
    The Swede heaved open the rolling door, launching from a squat to standing, arms extending above his head, the metal creaking and clanging – loud and echoing.
    The beam from the Finn’s LED flashlight illuminated the inside of the storage unit – the camping supplies and equipment, gasoline and cutting torch and a man-sized shape in a sleeping bag in the far right corner.
    A Gemtech suppressor and naturally subsonic ammunition meant the Finn’s double tap was muted to two concentrated sneezes, inaudible beyond five metres. The sleeping bag rippled from the bullets’ impact.
    She stalked forwards into the unit, Ruger still up at eye level and aimed down at the prone target, seeking confirmation of the kill.
    ‘
Wait
,’ the Swede said from behind her before she could reach close enough to identify the target.
    She did as instructed, surprised at the volume of his voice and utterly trusting he was justified in his instruction.
    ‘It’s not him,’ the Swede said.
    The Finn could not see the body in the sleeping bag from her distance so he would not be able to either.
    ‘Left,’ the Swede said.
    She looked. ‘What the —’
    The unit’s walls were corrugated metal sheeting rising two and a half metres to the flat roof. Where the left wall met the floor was a hole, one metre square. The cut-out piece of metal lay on the floor next to it. Cut with the oxyacetylene torch.
    ‘Cover it,’ the Swede said as he moved forward into the unit.
    The Finn trained her gun on the hole, the beam of the flashlight showing the blackened edges where the metal had been scorched by the torch. The Swede kicked the sleeping bag twice, then knelt down to check what was inside.
    ‘Shit,’ he said, feeling pillows stuffed into the bag to create a man-sized shape. He felt something square and hard. A mobile phone, set to speaker, playing a sound file of recorded breathing.
    ‘He knew we were coming,’ the Swede said, a slight edge of fear in his voice. ‘He was waiting for us.’
    ‘Where is he?’ the Finn asked.
    The beam of the flashlight shone a little way through the hole in the wall and into the next unit, which seemed empty.
    The Swede pointed at the wall – at the next unit. Then he held out his left hand, palm down, and lowered it as he crouched into a squat, indicating for the Finn to do the same. She did, and the flashlight beam illuminated more of the unit beyond as his eye-level descended to see into it. It was as empty as it first appeared.
    ‘Oh no.’
    ‘What?’ the Finn said, the volume and pitch of her voice rising. ‘What is it?’
    On the far wall of the next unit was another hole and another sheet of metal lying before it. The Swede got on to his hands and knees to get the angle and saw the same was true of the unit after that. And then again. He could see all the way through and the spill of artificial light beyond the final hole that led outside.
    The Swede said, ‘Watch the flank,’ glancing towards the Dane, who was still outside the unit.
    No Dane.
    He let out a panicked exhale and snapped up his pistol. The Finn saw him do so and spun to where he was looking. The female Dane, who had been there mere moments before, was gone. They hadn’t heard a thing.
    ‘Stay calm,’ the Finn said.
    The Swede didn’t seem to hear. ‘He led us here. He wanted us to come after him. Shit.
Shit
.’
    ‘Stay calm,’ the Finn said again.
    ‘He picked this spot to attack us and we watched him do it. It’s a fucking trap.’
    The Finn didn’t argue. She used her lapel mike to radio the male Dane. ‘We need backup, right now.’
    No answer.
    She repeated herself.
    The Swede stared at her. ‘Not him as well…’
    A voice came through the speaker: male, but not the Dane who was supposed to be waiting in the van. The voice was deep and low. Calm. Terrifying. ‘I’m afraid no one is coming