Private Princess

Chapter 113

Morgan picked himself up off his stomach and looked at the cracked glass that had saved his life — the shatterproof windows of the Shard’s lower floor had absorbed the impact of Flex’s shots.

“Stop!” Morgan heard as he broke back into a run. “Get down! Armed police!”

Morgan turned to look over his shoulder and saw a running officer eighty yards away. The revolver was clearly visible in Morgan’s hands, and one look at the officer’s face told the American that he was serious, and trying to close the distance before he fired.

“Armed police!” he shouted again.

Morgan ran. He could not let him close that gap.

The Shard lobby was empty as he squeezed between the slowly opening automatic doors, not stopping until he hit the elevator call button. When it didn’t open at once, Morgan hit the deck on instinct. He was right to.

Two bullets cracked through the building’s open doors, which were now closing once more. The officer rose from the firing position on his knee, and began to bound forward. Morgan knew he could never bring himself to shoot the man, but the officer didn’t know that.

He raised his pistol and fired.

The first bullet went a foot wide of his target. The second hit dead center, and the police officer dropped to the ground.

Then crawled to cover.

Morgan had shot out the power box above the glass sliding doors, and now they were immobile, a six-inch gap between them. It would be enough to buy Morgan moments for his pursuit, before the police response teams could access the building’s industrial entrances. It would buy him moments to stop Flex from beginning what could turn out to be one of the country’s most bloody hostage situations. It would buy Morgan the time to offer Flex the one thing that could halt his course of action.

Morgan’s own life.