Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
The two men exchanged a look but entered, both looking around carefully to take in the position of furniture and windows and seeking the location of her protection dogs. It was no secret that she had them and that they were always with her.
Raine looked their IDs over carefully and nodded before Shabina invited them to take a seat.
“This certainly is a surprise.” She chose her chair, making certain to present the most difficult target and the angle that would not hinder Raine if she needed to take a shot. “What can I do for you?” She folded her hands in her lap.
Her revolver was tucked into the side of the cushion, only inches from her fingers. She was extremely proud of her voice. Steady as a rock. No trembling. She kept her gaze fixed on both men, noting every breath, every movement. Having Raine and Zahra there gave her a measure of confidence. She wasn’t entirely alone.
“We know that you spent some very unpleasant months with a man referred to as Scorpion,” Boucher opened. “I’m sorry if this conversation is uncomfortable for you, but we’ve been attempting to gather evidence against him and one of his associates.”
Cormier took up the narrative. “Many people we’ve questioned believe Scorpion doesn’t act alone.”
She didn’t move, not even when her stomach knotted and churned. These men were investigators from Paris trying to build a case against Scorpion, and yet warning alarms were shrieking at her. She had no idea why. Both spoke in gentle tones. Both were polite. She kept her hands still and her features composed. So far, they hadn’t asked a question. She’d learned, when she was a teenager, never to speak unless she had to.
“Scorpion works with a master assassin. This man at first was thought to be a myth. When others spoke of him, they did so in whispers. He came to our attention, the stories building a picture of him. He’s been killing for Scorpion for at least ten years,” Boucher said.
Both men watched her closely. Shabina had been in Scorpion’s camps for over six months. They moved constantly. He wasn’t always with them, but his orders were followed. She had never once noticed that he had a special assassin he sent out. He had his cabinet. They specialized in cruelty and murdered often, as did the mercenaries he left behind to run his camp when he was gone. But an assassin? Scorpion preferred to do his own killing.
It was all she could do not to rub her left wrist, where the tattoo was branded into her skin. The hated scorpion. She kept it covered at all times.
“This man is very familiar with every terrain. He knows the desert and the hills. He knows the cities. He moves with the wind. If one ever catches a glimpse of him, they do so before they die,” Boucher added. “In all the time you were in those camps, did you see such a man? Could you identify him?”
Shabina forced the air to move through her lungs at an even rate. She didn’t want to think about those days or remember any of the men other than the few who had been decent, risking their lives to try to aid her. She remembered them. Their faces. Their names. She kept them and their families in her heart.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about. All of the men who rode with Scorpion killed. I didn’t notice any one man standing out above the rest.”
Boucher frowned. It was the first time he appeared to be annoyed. “It is said he comes when the sandstorms come. That’s when he strikes, sometimes leaving behind many dead, not just one.”
She shook her head again, but this time she couldn’t keep her heart from racing. She didn’t dare look at Raine. Could he be referring to Rainier? No one knew Rainier was the master assassin Deadly Storms. Not even Blom. Was Interpol looking for Rainier? Why weren’t they asking questions about Scorpion?
“They call him Deadly Storms,” Cormier added. “Had you ever heard this name in the camp?”
“No.” She hadn’t. That was strictly the truth.
“Around the time you were rescued, there was a sandstorm,” Boucher said. “Do you remember? It was one of the very worst in the region in a long while. It came in fast, and when it passed, every man in that camp was dead.”
Raine cleared her throat, drawing their attention away from Shabina. “Am I understanding your implication? Do you believe this assassin killed all the men in this camp?”
Boucher was silent a moment. “We have to investigate every possibility, and the men all died by his signature kill.”
“I’m not sure what you’re saying. If this assassin works for Scorpion,” Raine continued, “why would he kill Scorpion’s men? Weren’t those men the ones he rode with on his raids?”