Read Online Nine Dragons - A Beatrix Rose Thriller: Hong Kong Stories Volume 1 (Beatrix Rose's Hong Kong Stories Book 2) by Mark Dawson - Free Book Online
Authors: Mark Dawson
Ads: Link
said.
“Triads come? For my sister?”
“Yes. We need to get out.”
There was a crash from outside as the men in the hallway tried to force the door.
Beatrix crossed the room, unlatched the sash window and pushed it all the way up. She put the Glock away again and beckoned Grace over to her.
The girl was frozen still by fear. “If we stay here, they will kill us. Understand? We must go. Now. Do you understand?”
The girl swallowed, her larynx bulging, but she nodded that she did.
#
THERE CAME a tremendous boom from the other room. That was the shotgun blowing out the lock.
They had seconds now.
There was a rectangular metal frame for the drying of washing bolted to the wall beneath the casement, and her window box rested on the sill. She pushed the box off so that she could climb out of the window without being impeded by it. There was a pause and then a crash as it shattered against the ground below.
“Get on my back.”
Grace came over and passed her arms around Beatrix’s neck. She locked her right hand around her left wrist and wrapped her legs around her waist. She was heavier than she looked.
Beatrix held onto the ledge with her right hand, bent her knees and pushed up. The fingers of her left hand found the next ledge up, her boots slithering and sliding on the bricks until they stubbed up against an uneven finish. Grace held on, her forearms locking around Beatrix’s neck almost too tightly. She reached up with her right hand, transferring her weight. The masonry had been weakened by the weather, and the first ledge she reached crumbled to a rough dust in her hand. She stretched across in a desperate lunge and, just as her momentum failed and gravity hungrily claimed her, her fingers closed around a protruding metal stud.
She heard a shout from the room below them.
Come on.
She shot her arm up again, scrabbling for the bracket that held a rusting waste pipe to the wall. She transferred her weight to it and the pipe tipped backwards, the retaining screws nearest to her popping out of rotting masonry and skittering off the wall as they tumbled away from them. Beatrix closed her eyes, knowing that she was committed and that there was no way for her to get off the pipe with Grace on her back. The girl screamed as the sudden backwards jerk loosened her legs from around Beatrix’s waist and, for a moment, she was left to dangle there. Her locked wrists dug into Beatrix’s windpipe. The metal screeched, but the remaining screws held and their plunge was arrested.
Beatrix gritted her teeth.
“Hang on.”
She wrapped her legs around the pipe, reached for the section above her head, and started to shinny up it. The screws and brackets groaned with the added weight, but they stayed in place.
She reached for the lip of the roof. She probed for a handhold, found a boxy air-conditioning unit and laced her fingers around the lattice of a protective grate. Grunting with the effort, she hauled herself up and fastened her left hand around an exposed pipe and pulled so that the two of them rolled over the parapet. She righted herself quickly and scouted the roof. It was just as she remembered it. No one up here with them. Not yet, anyway.
“We’ve got to get over there,” she said, pointing across to the other roof.
The girl’s eyes bugged out. “We cannot.”
The ascent had terrified her.
What Beatrix was proposing would make that look like a cakewalk.
She couldn’t worry about that. If they stayed on the roof, the men would climb the stairs and there would be nowhere for them to go.
She had five rounds left.
They had a shotgun and at least two pistols.
They were badly outgunned.
They had no choice.
Grace walked over to the parapet and looked down.
“I cannot.”
“They’ll kill you if you stay here,” she said.
The girl blanched.
“Hold on tight, just like before. You’ll be fine.”
Beatrix stepped up to the edge, the tips of her toes just over the lip of the roof. The wind
“Triads come? For my sister?”
“Yes. We need to get out.”
There was a crash from outside as the men in the hallway tried to force the door.
Beatrix crossed the room, unlatched the sash window and pushed it all the way up. She put the Glock away again and beckoned Grace over to her.
The girl was frozen still by fear. “If we stay here, they will kill us. Understand? We must go. Now. Do you understand?”
The girl swallowed, her larynx bulging, but she nodded that she did.
#
THERE CAME a tremendous boom from the other room. That was the shotgun blowing out the lock.
They had seconds now.
There was a rectangular metal frame for the drying of washing bolted to the wall beneath the casement, and her window box rested on the sill. She pushed the box off so that she could climb out of the window without being impeded by it. There was a pause and then a crash as it shattered against the ground below.
“Get on my back.”
Grace came over and passed her arms around Beatrix’s neck. She locked her right hand around her left wrist and wrapped her legs around her waist. She was heavier than she looked.
Beatrix held onto the ledge with her right hand, bent her knees and pushed up. The fingers of her left hand found the next ledge up, her boots slithering and sliding on the bricks until they stubbed up against an uneven finish. Grace held on, her forearms locking around Beatrix’s neck almost too tightly. She reached up with her right hand, transferring her weight. The masonry had been weakened by the weather, and the first ledge she reached crumbled to a rough dust in her hand. She stretched across in a desperate lunge and, just as her momentum failed and gravity hungrily claimed her, her fingers closed around a protruding metal stud.
She heard a shout from the room below them.
Come on.
She shot her arm up again, scrabbling for the bracket that held a rusting waste pipe to the wall. She transferred her weight to it and the pipe tipped backwards, the retaining screws nearest to her popping out of rotting masonry and skittering off the wall as they tumbled away from them. Beatrix closed her eyes, knowing that she was committed and that there was no way for her to get off the pipe with Grace on her back. The girl screamed as the sudden backwards jerk loosened her legs from around Beatrix’s waist and, for a moment, she was left to dangle there. Her locked wrists dug into Beatrix’s windpipe. The metal screeched, but the remaining screws held and their plunge was arrested.
Beatrix gritted her teeth.
“Hang on.”
She wrapped her legs around the pipe, reached for the section above her head, and started to shinny up it. The screws and brackets groaned with the added weight, but they stayed in place.
She reached for the lip of the roof. She probed for a handhold, found a boxy air-conditioning unit and laced her fingers around the lattice of a protective grate. Grunting with the effort, she hauled herself up and fastened her left hand around an exposed pipe and pulled so that the two of them rolled over the parapet. She righted herself quickly and scouted the roof. It was just as she remembered it. No one up here with them. Not yet, anyway.
“We’ve got to get over there,” she said, pointing across to the other roof.
The girl’s eyes bugged out. “We cannot.”
The ascent had terrified her.
What Beatrix was proposing would make that look like a cakewalk.
She couldn’t worry about that. If they stayed on the roof, the men would climb the stairs and there would be nowhere for them to go.
She had five rounds left.
They had a shotgun and at least two pistols.
They were badly outgunned.
They had no choice.
Grace walked over to the parapet and looked down.
“I cannot.”
“They’ll kill you if you stay here,” she said.
The girl blanched.
“Hold on tight, just like before. You’ll be fine.”
Beatrix stepped up to the edge, the tips of her toes just over the lip of the roof. The wind
Similar Books
