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The Third Option :: Flynn Vince
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«I'm in the middle of something right now. Could you come back later?»
«Actually, I can't.» Donatella placed a hand on the knob while she continued to talk. «I'm on my way to work. I really want to take this class.» The door was locked. «I've heard you're a great teacher. It'll only take a second, I promise.» Donatella looked down the hall and was relieved to see that the two teachers were no longer there. She began weighing the risk of shooting through the lock, and then the door opened.
Peter Cameron waved her in and closed the door. «I'm sorry, I have to keep this door closed or another one of my students will drop in, and I'll never get out of here.»
Donatella stuck out her right hand. «My name is Amy. It's nice to meet you, Professor Cameron.»
Cameron smiled at the pretty woman and took her hand. «Please call me Peter.»
Donatella returned the smile and turned her head to the left, knowing full well that her target would do the same. Pointing at a plaque on the wall, she asked, «Is that from the CIA?»
Cameron turned to look at the award he had been given by some mends at the Agency. It commemorated his twenty-four years of service. As he proudly began to answer the question, Donatella's right hand slid into a pocket in her purse. Her hand wrapped around the rubber handle of a four-inch steel pick that had been sharpened to a fine point. She slowly slid the weapon out, keeping it close to her body. Pointing to a photograph next to the plaque, she asked, «Who is that?»
As Cameron's head started to turn, Donatella brought the pick up and moved with lightning speed. Her aim was perfect as she jammed the sharp, thin object into Cameron's left ear. Before he could scream, Donatella was on him, clamping her left hand down on his mouth and twisting the pick with amazing force. His body began to crumble as the four inches of steel slashed through his brain. Donatella lowered him to the floor and twisted the pick around one more time to make sure he was dead. Then she slowly extracted the weapon, and, lifting Cameron's arm, she wiped the pick against the fabric of the armpit to remove what little blood there was on it. Donatella put the pick back in her purse, and then, as if nothing had happened, she opened the office door, locked it, and closed it behind her.
THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened, and Rapp and Coleman stepped out. Coleman looked to the left, Rapp to the right. Both men had their hands in close proximity to their guns. There was one person in the hallway. A woman with blond hair was walking away from them toward the far end of the hall. Rapp studied her for a second.
«I'm in the middle of something right now. Could you come back later?»
«Actually, I can't.» Donatella placed a hand on the knob while she continued to talk. «I'm on my way to work. I really want to take this class.» The door was locked. «I've heard you're a great teacher. It'll only take a second, I promise.» Donatella looked down the hall and was relieved to see that the two teachers were no longer there. She began weighing the risk of shooting through the lock, and then the door opened.
Peter Cameron waved her in and closed the door. «I'm sorry, I have to keep this door closed or another one of my students will drop in, and I'll never get out of here.»
Donatella stuck out her right hand. «My name is Amy. It's nice to meet you, Professor Cameron.»
Cameron smiled at the pretty woman and took her hand. «Please call me Peter.»
Donatella returned the smile and turned her head to the left, knowing full well that her target would do the same. Pointing at a plaque on the wall, she asked, «Is that from the CIA?»
Cameron turned to look at the award he had been given by some mends at the Agency. It commemorated his twenty-four years of service. As he proudly began to answer the question, Donatella's right hand slid into a pocket in her purse. Her hand wrapped around the rubber handle of a four-inch steel pick that had been sharpened to a fine point. She slowly slid the weapon out, keeping it close to her body. Pointing to a photograph next to the plaque, she asked, «Who is that?»
As Cameron's head started to turn, Donatella brought the pick up and moved with lightning speed. Her aim was perfect as she jammed the sharp, thin object into Cameron's left ear. Before he could scream, Donatella was on him, clamping her left hand down on his mouth and twisting the pick with amazing force. His body began to crumble as the four inches of steel slashed through his brain. Donatella lowered him to the floor and twisted the pick around one more time to make sure he was dead. Then she slowly extracted the weapon, and, lifting Cameron's arm, she wiped the pick against the fabric of the armpit to remove what little blood there was on it. Donatella put the pick back in her purse, and then, as if nothing had happened, she opened the office door, locked it, and closed it behind her.
THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened, and Rapp and Coleman stepped out. Coleman looked to the left, Rapp to the right. Both men had their hands in close proximity to their guns. There was one person in the hallway. A woman with blond hair was walking away from them toward the far end of the hall. Rapp studied her for a second.