Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 59

building over toward its next-door neighbor, Dorian dropping onto that roof.

“There he is,” said one of the gunmen, trying to get a bead on the intruder. “SHOOT HIM!”

Dorian stood his ground as gunfire erupted around him.

Not a single bullet connected.

Dorian wasn’t even backing away. He simply twisted this way, that way, pivoted, and then leaned back as if he were a limbo dancer. With each movement, his confidence swelled all the more.

Two men emerged from an alley, and Dorian cut them down on the spot. Another peered out from behind an old train car, but Dorian blew the man away without blinking an eye.

“Report.” Henry said to Dorian’s earpiece.

Dorian had no idea how to respond to his request.

No, it was not a request. This was an order.

“Report now.”

The panicked gunman fired with a submachine gun as he came. Bullets strafed up the flattop in Dorian’s direction, whining off the concrete, and he threw himself aside, the rounds narrowly missing him.

Dorian came to his feet tugging the automatic pistol from his waistband, and returned fire. But he missed.

Then he emptied the clip, tossed the pistol aside, and lost sight of his target behind a cloud of smoke.

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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