Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 53

CHAPTER FIVE

Live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse.

Humphrey Bogart.

NEW YORK

PRESENT DAY

In his black combat suit, Dorian Gray—Pretty Boy to the other nine members of his elite covert insertion team—was spotlighted by a full moon that shone like a mighty alabaster beacon. He was tall and lean, and had a head of thick brown hair and open eyes that seemed incapable of hiding a lie.

He perched like a hawk on top of the building. The rooftops were by far the quickest and easiest way to get from one area or the city to another. He moved swiftly along the shadows. Slowly, Dorian scanned the train yard, searching for any sign of hostiles that he knew would be patrolling this sector. Finger on the trigger of his weapon, he was prepared to shoot at anything that moved.

Nothing did.

The aged structures, many decorated with old-world flourishes, offered hundreds of potential perches. Their roofs and windows would provide numerous vantage points for an assassin. And, with the many exterior fire escapes as well as

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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