Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 54

a roof access hatches down to interior stairwells, there were literally hundreds of escape routes.

On clear nights like this one, the roof offered a good view. The city appeared quiet, but Dorian knew that looks could be deceptive. Who knew what was going on behind closed doors and in the murky back alleys?

Dorian lowered his night vision goggles from his forehead and checked the perimeter again—still nothing.

Nonetheless, in his gut, he felt a twinge of suspicion. He didn’t know what cause it, but he had the feeling, that danger was imminent, and nearby.

Broad-shouldered yet tall and lean, a black stocking cap covered his shimmering brown hair, Dorian carried his submachine gun loosely in both hands, safety off, and his finger was on the trigger.

“Why are you always out front?” Said a voice in his com-link.

Dorian recognized the voice, which belonged to his stepbrother Henry Lord—his best friend and second in command.

Dorian held onto his earpiece. “We’re supposed to be deadly, invisible, and soundless,” he said in a low growl. “Emphasis on the soundless.”

“What, you think a brother can’t walk point?” Asked Henry, his voice was raised above a strained whisper.

Sliding his night-vision goggles up to his forehead, Dorian replied, “Give it a rest, Henry…”

DORIAN GRAY

• 54 •