Читать книгу Dying To Play - Debra Webb - Страница 11

Once the game is started it cannot be stopped. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

He had no choice.

Brad Matthews didn’t look like a murderer or even a man who would carry a weapon. His suit was Armani…his shoes Ferragamo. But his manner of dress had been more reflex than conscious thought. He’d had only one thing on his mind this morning.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

He no longer cared if he lived or died, but he couldn’t risk his wife…his children.

He wouldn’t risk them.

At 9:05 a.m., just as the Gamekeeper had instructed, Brad walked into the downtown Atlanta Commerce Bank. He strode straight to the private office of the bank’s president, an office where he’d done business many times.

His prey looked up and smiled, welcoming a trusted business associate of his beloved bank, but before he could rise from his leather executive chair, Brad drew the revolver he’d hidden beneath his jacket. He clenched his jaw and fired three shots into the president’s massive chest. The startled look that claimed the man’s face proved oddly calming to Brad.

He’d done it.

Screams and confusion erupted in the lobby beyond the glass wall that stood between him and the rest of those present inside the bank this Monday morning the first week of May…the last morning Brad would ever see.

The two security guards were sprinting in his direction, weapons drawn. Brad shot two more times, taking down one of the guards and sending the other one diving for cover. Then he turned the gun on himself.

Now it would end.

Picturing his wife and children one last time, he fired the final round.