Private Princess

Chapter 118

“Get over there!” Flex ordered his six captives, brandishing his pistol. Four of them he had herded like the sheep they were from the thirty-fourth floor. Another two, both cleaners, had been acquired as they’d arrived in the building’s viewing rooms, and the highest reaches of the Shard. The viewing rooms were confined, Flex realized, and unsuited to his purposes — he couldn’t keep point of aim over all entry points, and he certainly couldn’t cover all angles in the room by himself, the layout stretching around the elevator at its center.

He realized there was only one true option for him. He dragged a hostage by the hair, moving the short distance to the window so that he could see the towers and buildings below, some reaching as high as the Shard’s waist.

“Look at the flags!” Flex told the younger woman. “What are they doing?”

“The flags?” she mumbled, confused.

Flex slapped her hard to sharpen her senses.

“I’ll look for you!” a young man offered bravely.

Flex didn’t need people deciding they were heroes. That could be trouble down the line, and so the young man’s offer earned him a bullet in the chest.

“What are the flags doing?” he demanded again, against the screams.

“Blowing! They’re blowing!” the woman bawled.

That was what Flex had seen, but his eyesight wasn’t what it had been, and he didn’t want to wager his life without a second opinion. Knowing that the winds were high, he made a calculated gamble. Chances of the commanders signing off on their snipers taking a shot in high wind speed, with hostages? Low. Chances of them storming the floor from a direction that Flex wasn’t facing, and killing him before he could react? High.

“We’re going up on the roof,” Flex ordered.

He was just about to give a second command when the single elevator pinged, and its doors began to open. On instinct, Flex raised his pistol and fired.