Last Strike Read Online Free Page A

on one hand the hours of life she had left. Was there any way to make those hours count for the greater good?
    “Open. Your. Eyes.” A big hand covered her knee and his thumb pushed against her kneecap. “Fight me and I will fight you.” He pressed her kneecap to the tendon’s limit.
    She obeyed immediately, staring into his pale, soulless eyes. His hand lifted from her body. “Smart as advertised.”
    With her eyes, she begged him to spare her life. She didn’t expect it to have much effect on him. This was the agent known as Last Strike. Messenger’s personal assassin. There would be no negotiation, no escape. He was death personified... and she’d set him on that path.
    She was suddenly grateful for the tape on her mouth and her blurry vision. The smallest, negligible distance would be the only peace available to her now.
    As if he’d read her mind, he ripped the tape from her mouth, leaving her lips and cheeks stinging. Standing, he leaned back against the counter, his hands folding the tape into incrementally smaller squares. “You will answer my questions.”
    She nodded. There was no point in fighting. If her killer would be her confessor, so be it. She didn’t want any of her secrets following her to the grave.
    “State your name.”
    “Daria Elizabeth Johannson.”
    “Age?”
    “Thirty-one.”
    “State your educational background and credentials.”
    She rattled off the facts, realizing he was creating a baseline, studying her honest replies so he could recognize any hint of deception. She could try and fool him, but her fate was sealed. Honesty would be her last act of respect for a man she’d hurt so unforgivably. “Ask me anything. I won’t try and deceive you.”
    She caught the subtle shift in his posture. Respect? Surely it would take more than an admission of guilt to earn the respect of UI’s top assassin.
    “Why did Dr. Gerardi gas you?”
    It wasn’t the question she expected him to start with. “I- I don’t know.”
    “Why were you in his car?”
    She took a deep breath. “He said he wanted advice. I believed him.” She’d clung to the myth of safety in numbers.
    “Did you recognize the gas he used?”
    Now she wanted her glasses to study him . He showed more curiosity than she expected. “Chloroform mixed with something I didn’t recognize. Was he trying to kill me?”
    “Did he have reason to?”
    “I don’t know.” She hadn’t had time to think about it. “As a program supervisor, he had access to all of my research. I can’t imagine I was a threat to him.”
    “Why are you giving away program secrets?”
    “Pardon me?”
    “We know you’ve been leaking UI intel to an outsider. Why?”
    “You’re wrong,” she said. The only thing she’d been trying to get out of UI was her . Once safely away, she’d planned to share everything she knew about the facilities and the deadly experiments. “I have never compromised program security.” Not yet anyway.
    “Tell me how you met Amelia Bennett.”
    Who? She thought about it, tried to put the name in context. “Was she the reporter who died in Boston a few months ago?”
    “Yes. How did you meet?”
    “I - we never met. We can’t. She’s dead.”
    “Before that!” From any other man the words would’ve been a roar. From Last Strike, they were delivered with icy calm.
    “I have never met nor spoken to Amelia Bennett,” she repeated, trying to match his careful tone. As he walked away she gulped a big, steadying breath knowing the reprieve wouldn’t last. Any minute now he’d resort to pain and violence to confirm her honesty.
    He returned with her laptop and set it on the kitchen counter. Well, she assumed it was hers. She couldn’t be sure without her glasses.
    “Explain these appointments,” he demanded.
    “I’ll need my glasses to read the calendar. Unless you free my hands so I can hold the device.”
    He shocked her with how gently he placed her glasses on her face. “Explain these appointments