The Doomsday Device (Teen Superheroes Book 2) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Darrell Pitt
“Everyone except me.”
She reached over and touched my hand with the tips of her fingers. It was like a spark of electricity. Brodie and I were not officially an item, but she still had the power to make me turn to jelly. I turned my hand over so her fingers lay in my palm. Taking her hand in mine, I leaned across the seat and gently kissed her lips.
Pushing her lips against mine, I felt dizzy as I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the moment.
I wish it could have lasted forever, but at that moment I heard a distant sound. Brodie drew away from me. We climbed from the vehicle and rounded the campervan. Walking up the road to the crest of the hill, we saw a car making its way towards us. A black four wheel drive.
We stood at the top of the hill, watching it as it grew nearer. Visitors out here were unknown. It was possible someone had taken the wrong turn off the highway.
Possible, but unlikely.
By now I could see the windows of the vehicle were made of darkened glass. It was impossible to see the occupants.
The vehicle drew to a halt.
Footsteps in the dirt sounded from behind me. Chad, Ebony, Dan and Ferdy had come out to see who had taken the long drive from Vegas just to see us.
Both the front doors of the vehicle opened. For a moment nothing happened. Then two men stepped out.
I recognized both of them immediately.
Mr. Jones and Mr. Brown.
From The Agency.
Chapter Five
These Americans love their flashing lights , General Wolff thought as he stepped from the interior of the Cadillac.
He was standing at the corner of Tropicana Avenue and Las Vegas Boulevard in the heart of Las Vegas. Night had fallen. He cast a critical eye around him. Some of the most famous hotels in the city lay around him; the Luxor, the MGM Grand, the Excalibur, the Monte Carlo. Symbols of opulence and wealth.
And flashing lights.
Lots of flashing lights.
For Wolff who had grown up in poverty and had once killed another child for half a loaf of moldy bread, the sight was yet another reminder of how far he had come. He allowed himself a few seconds to take in the sights. Then he reminded himself that possessions were nothing unless they could be defended and he shut the images from his mind.
He had a man to meet.
His personal finances had taken a blow since The Agency had attacked his operation on Cayo Placetas. The organization that he had once commanded – Typhoid – had fallen apart at the seams. One of his former commanders had taken charge of it. Wolff doubted Typhoid would ever reach its former glory.
For Wolff, his concerns were of a far more financial nature. His payment for the project on Cayo Placetas had never eventuated and now he was operating from long held savings in a bank account on the Cayman Islands.
He was far from poor, but neither was he as wealthy as he would have liked.
Mercer Todd’s one hundred million dollars would help to put him back on top, but he could not do it alone. To even start recruiting the team required for the operation, Wolff would need a man with special abilities.
So many times in life, Wolff had found, success depended on knowing just the right people.
If you didn’t know the right people, you had to find those who did.
He chose to walk the short distance to his hotel. He was staying at The Luxor, the second largest hotel in Las Vegas. Shaped like a pyramid, it was named after the ancient city of Luxor in Egypt. Within, the structure was hollow, lined with hundreds of apartments. He ignored the doorman, walking through the main entrance and walked straight to the reception desk.
Many men would be impressed by this , he thought. But I am not like many men.
He booked in and stashed his single bag into his room before going to the Liquidity Bar located at the centre of the Casino floor. The man he was looking for was sitting alone nursing a drink and eyeing a group of laughing women at the bar. He noticed Wolff from across the room.
“General Wolff,” he said as
She reached over and touched my hand with the tips of her fingers. It was like a spark of electricity. Brodie and I were not officially an item, but she still had the power to make me turn to jelly. I turned my hand over so her fingers lay in my palm. Taking her hand in mine, I leaned across the seat and gently kissed her lips.
Pushing her lips against mine, I felt dizzy as I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the moment.
I wish it could have lasted forever, but at that moment I heard a distant sound. Brodie drew away from me. We climbed from the vehicle and rounded the campervan. Walking up the road to the crest of the hill, we saw a car making its way towards us. A black four wheel drive.
We stood at the top of the hill, watching it as it grew nearer. Visitors out here were unknown. It was possible someone had taken the wrong turn off the highway.
Possible, but unlikely.
By now I could see the windows of the vehicle were made of darkened glass. It was impossible to see the occupants.
The vehicle drew to a halt.
Footsteps in the dirt sounded from behind me. Chad, Ebony, Dan and Ferdy had come out to see who had taken the long drive from Vegas just to see us.
Both the front doors of the vehicle opened. For a moment nothing happened. Then two men stepped out.
I recognized both of them immediately.
Mr. Jones and Mr. Brown.
From The Agency.
Chapter Five
These Americans love their flashing lights , General Wolff thought as he stepped from the interior of the Cadillac.
He was standing at the corner of Tropicana Avenue and Las Vegas Boulevard in the heart of Las Vegas. Night had fallen. He cast a critical eye around him. Some of the most famous hotels in the city lay around him; the Luxor, the MGM Grand, the Excalibur, the Monte Carlo. Symbols of opulence and wealth.
And flashing lights.
Lots of flashing lights.
For Wolff who had grown up in poverty and had once killed another child for half a loaf of moldy bread, the sight was yet another reminder of how far he had come. He allowed himself a few seconds to take in the sights. Then he reminded himself that possessions were nothing unless they could be defended and he shut the images from his mind.
He had a man to meet.
His personal finances had taken a blow since The Agency had attacked his operation on Cayo Placetas. The organization that he had once commanded – Typhoid – had fallen apart at the seams. One of his former commanders had taken charge of it. Wolff doubted Typhoid would ever reach its former glory.
For Wolff, his concerns were of a far more financial nature. His payment for the project on Cayo Placetas had never eventuated and now he was operating from long held savings in a bank account on the Cayman Islands.
He was far from poor, but neither was he as wealthy as he would have liked.
Mercer Todd’s one hundred million dollars would help to put him back on top, but he could not do it alone. To even start recruiting the team required for the operation, Wolff would need a man with special abilities.
So many times in life, Wolff had found, success depended on knowing just the right people.
If you didn’t know the right people, you had to find those who did.
He chose to walk the short distance to his hotel. He was staying at The Luxor, the second largest hotel in Las Vegas. Shaped like a pyramid, it was named after the ancient city of Luxor in Egypt. Within, the structure was hollow, lined with hundreds of apartments. He ignored the doorman, walking through the main entrance and walked straight to the reception desk.
Many men would be impressed by this , he thought. But I am not like many men.
He booked in and stashed his single bag into his room before going to the Liquidity Bar located at the centre of the Casino floor. The man he was looking for was sitting alone nursing a drink and eyeing a group of laughing women at the bar. He noticed Wolff from across the room.
“General Wolff,” he said as
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