Private Princess

Chapter 103

Time, location and reality had melted for Flex. He was oblivious to the fact that he was in the center of a gunfight on London Bridge, pedestrians running screaming and cars crashing into one another as they sought to escape the carnage. Flex had been overtaken by the red mist, his anger and rage all-consuming. His endgame was a distant memory now. All he wanted to do was kill. Kill. Kill.

Throwing Knight over the bridge had been a good start. He hoped that the weasel suffered a long death. It was a shame he couldn’t have given the same end to Rider, that greedy shitheaded bastard, but blowing out his throat would have to be enough. Turning through his arc to draw aim against Morgan, Flex briefly noticed the slumped body of his dirty cop behind the steering wheel, what little there had been inside the man’s head now gray jelly against the windshield.

Completing his arc, Flex was surprised to see that Morgan was not up and standing in the aim position, ready to pull his own trigger, but struggling on the ground, with someone biting and writhing on top of him as the American howled in agony.

Herbert, Flex realized. You were actually loyal to the end.

Flex pulled the trigger.