Page 68 of Striker
There was so much she didn’t know. However, the questions she needed to ask had to be directed at Atlas. His response was the only one that mattered to her.
“It’s late. Why don’t you let me get to work on this and you catch some shut-eye?”
Relieved to have an excuse to be alone, she thanked him, said good night, and stood. After brushing her teeth and going pee, she returned to the bedroom and shut the door.
She just hoped Atlas would walk through it in the morning.
“Get behind me,” Atlas commanded the woman. Jenna, or whoever the fuck she was, did as he’d asked but stayed a few feet away, seemingly trying to distance herself from him.
He spoke into his mic. “Exfil. Now.”
“Copy,” Rogue said in his ear.
Bang!
The door bounced open. Three hostiles stared him down, including the long-haired bouncer he’d noted earlier.
He bunched his hands into fists at his sides. Christ he hated being unarmed, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight. “You assholes always interrupt money well spent? What the fuck.”
“Back away from her,” Ponytail said, gesturing to the side of the room with his pistol.
A heavyset bouncer with a bald head and a goatee eyed him from above his Glock.
Atlas held up his hands, feigning innocence. “I paid for this room,” he continued. He’d be lucky to buy sixty seconds. The guys better move their asses.
“You’re a fed!” shouted Ponytail. “I smelled you the minute you walked into the club.”
“Huh.” He smirked. “That’s news to me.”
“Jenna, get the fuck over here,” Baldy said.
Atlas extended his arm, stopping her from following the instructions. Taking a bullet wasn’t on his to-do list, but if they suspected she’d given up information about Rex, they’d kill her.
And he wouldn’t allow that.
“Hang on a damn minute,” he blurted. “I ain’t a fucking fed. If I were, you’d have a bullet in your head right now, or at the very least, a SWAT team through every window.”
Ponytail’s uncertain eyes darted to his friends, then to Jenna. With the woman standing behind him, Atlas couldn’t see if she’d affirmed his ruse or contradicted it.
He just had to hope she’d play it cool.
“H-He wanted a blowy. I said no. That was the extent of our conversation before you interrupted my dance.”
Baldy scoffed and charged toward them. “Bullshit. You can tell your lies to Rex—if he wants you alive long enough to see him.”
The lights went out. Blackness cloaked the room. The blaring music stopped dead. Shrieks sounded from downstairs and patrons in the nearby rooms shouted their complaints.
One of the bouncers cursed.
More shouts, followed by gunshots. A smile curved Atlas’s lips. Finally. His friends had joined the fucking party.
An emergency light in the hallway suddenly spilled its white glow into the room.
Baldy reached for Jenna, pointing his gun at her.
Atlas grabbed his arm and twisted sharply. Bones cracked. Baldy let out a cry and then turned his gun on Atlas, but he ripped the weapon from the man’s grip and brought the butt down on his attacker’s shiny head. Baldy went limp.
“Drop your weapon!” another bouncer screamed.
