assignments.
From everything that I was reading, he was more into the linguistic side of things, using his skills as a translator to help each side get what they needed to bring down the bad guys. It didn't say anything about him being marked for death, so I had to take solace in that fact, although that still didn't explain why Michael had his photograph in his possession.
Another half-hour went by, and each time that I heard somebody walking by, I would close the laptop and look up hoping that it wasn't Michael who had tracked me down. Finally, I came to a file that was hidden amongst the rest, and as I began to read, all comprehension for what I was seeing was making me see Michael in a different way. As each page moved, more information that I didn't really want to know came to light. If all of this was true, then I had to get to Richard as soon as I could. This was a matter of life and death, and couldn't wait a single second longer.
I began walking back to the hotel, until I suddenly found myself running with the express purpose of warning Richard of the danger he was in. A black van screeched around the corner, with the side door sliding open, to reveal a man clad in black, holding a weapon that didn't look like he was just out for a Sunday stroll.
Bullets came towards me, and began to do this very unusual dance along the vehicles that were parked against the sidewalk. Ducking down, I could feel the heat of the bullets whizzing by my head, and the distinct sound of glass shattering beside me. Windowpanes of small shops began to explode, as I continued to race down the sidewalk with the van keeping perpendicular to my racing form. Pieces of glass rained down from everywhere at once, not to mention the spray of bullets that just didn't seem to want to end.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw two men clad in black chasing after me, and I really did fear for my life. If it wasn't for the danger, I would have been very excited by the adrenaline rush shooting through my veins, but as it was, I was just trying to keep myself from being cut down in the prime of my life. They didn't even try to announce themselves, and was consciously trying to kill me with impunity. Why was this happening to me, and did it have anything to do with seeing the black car following me, or the man that I saw peering into the window of Richard’s suite?
I didn't know, and I really didn't have time to debate the issue, as these men were hell-bent on bringing me down one-way or the other. It wasn't like I was used to this kind of stuff, even though my husband had probably been on the receiving end of a life-and-death struggle on any given day. That didn't mean that I knew how to take care of myself, and I was just lucky that so far I was only getting injured by flying glass that was embedding itself in my skin.
Sparks came off the pavement, and I had to get off the street and someplace that they couldn't find me. There were a lot of people screaming, ducking out of the way and shielding their kids from the bullets that were flying everywhere.
It was way too far to get to the hotel, but I did see this movie theater up the street, and not thinking about anything at all besides my own safety, I ducked inside, just as another bullet barely missed me by a few centimeters at best. At least I was in good shape, so it was a possibility that I could out race my attackers. Bounding up the stairs, I could feel that my breath was steady, and I was using the same technique that I use when I jogged.
Wood splinters from the railing were being ripped apart by the bullets of the men that were standing at the bottom of the stairs letting loose with a barrage. I don't know why everybody lifts their hands over their heads, but that was exactly what I was doing. Not only that, but I was screaming and trying my best to get out of the way of the flying lead projectiles.
There were several doors, and with each one I found that they were
From everything that I was reading, he was more into the linguistic side of things, using his skills as a translator to help each side get what they needed to bring down the bad guys. It didn't say anything about him being marked for death, so I had to take solace in that fact, although that still didn't explain why Michael had his photograph in his possession.
Another half-hour went by, and each time that I heard somebody walking by, I would close the laptop and look up hoping that it wasn't Michael who had tracked me down. Finally, I came to a file that was hidden amongst the rest, and as I began to read, all comprehension for what I was seeing was making me see Michael in a different way. As each page moved, more information that I didn't really want to know came to light. If all of this was true, then I had to get to Richard as soon as I could. This was a matter of life and death, and couldn't wait a single second longer.
I began walking back to the hotel, until I suddenly found myself running with the express purpose of warning Richard of the danger he was in. A black van screeched around the corner, with the side door sliding open, to reveal a man clad in black, holding a weapon that didn't look like he was just out for a Sunday stroll.
Bullets came towards me, and began to do this very unusual dance along the vehicles that were parked against the sidewalk. Ducking down, I could feel the heat of the bullets whizzing by my head, and the distinct sound of glass shattering beside me. Windowpanes of small shops began to explode, as I continued to race down the sidewalk with the van keeping perpendicular to my racing form. Pieces of glass rained down from everywhere at once, not to mention the spray of bullets that just didn't seem to want to end.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw two men clad in black chasing after me, and I really did fear for my life. If it wasn't for the danger, I would have been very excited by the adrenaline rush shooting through my veins, but as it was, I was just trying to keep myself from being cut down in the prime of my life. They didn't even try to announce themselves, and was consciously trying to kill me with impunity. Why was this happening to me, and did it have anything to do with seeing the black car following me, or the man that I saw peering into the window of Richard’s suite?
I didn't know, and I really didn't have time to debate the issue, as these men were hell-bent on bringing me down one-way or the other. It wasn't like I was used to this kind of stuff, even though my husband had probably been on the receiving end of a life-and-death struggle on any given day. That didn't mean that I knew how to take care of myself, and I was just lucky that so far I was only getting injured by flying glass that was embedding itself in my skin.
Sparks came off the pavement, and I had to get off the street and someplace that they couldn't find me. There were a lot of people screaming, ducking out of the way and shielding their kids from the bullets that were flying everywhere.
It was way too far to get to the hotel, but I did see this movie theater up the street, and not thinking about anything at all besides my own safety, I ducked inside, just as another bullet barely missed me by a few centimeters at best. At least I was in good shape, so it was a possibility that I could out race my attackers. Bounding up the stairs, I could feel that my breath was steady, and I was using the same technique that I use when I jogged.
Wood splinters from the railing were being ripped apart by the bullets of the men that were standing at the bottom of the stairs letting loose with a barrage. I don't know why everybody lifts their hands over their heads, but that was exactly what I was doing. Not only that, but I was screaming and trying my best to get out of the way of the flying lead projectiles.
There were several doors, and with each one I found that they were
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