The Edge Of Justice

The Edge Of Justice, Chapter 1

Okay everyone, this is it!!! I have finally started writing Ghost Skills 2, and have titled it, The Edge Of Justice. For those of you new to this story, I don't think you will want to read this just yet. Go back to my profile, and click on Ghost Skills, Final Version. That is book one of this series, and without reading that, you will have a hard time putting all of the references in this book together. Vote comment, you know the deal. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!!!

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Darkness. So deep it was almost tangible. I shifted my body in the air duct, trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. It had been seven hours since I entered this building, five and half since I had entered the duct system, and four since I had chosen this spot to wait. 

An alarm buzzed in my ear and a masculine voice wove through the small earpiece embedded in my ear canal. “Possible target approaching. Three klicks from your position.”

I blinked twice, signaling my receipt of the intel. Going over the math quickly in my head, I figured the distance to be just under two miles. Why these people in my ear had to use kilometers and meters instead of miles and feet, I had no idea. Close to three minutes later I heard the faint sounds of car doors closing, and raised voices, getting closer and closer to the building. I heard the door open, and the voices spilled through the doorway, now loud enough to make out the words.

“I am telling you, she was all over me, man!” the first voice said.

“She didn‘t even look at you twice,” the second one answered.

The room filled with light then, and I had to close my eyes to slits, blinded from sitting in absolute darkness for so long. The light played tricks on me for a moment before I could open my eyes fully. Raising myself onto my elbows, I inched slowly forward in the duct, moving silently toward a grate less that foot from my current position. I peered through, making sure not to come all the way forward in case on of them looked toward the grating to see my eyes staring back at them. The men entered my field of vision and I scrutinized them carefully. Both men were over six feet tall, around two hundred pounds, with bulges beneath each of their jackets that just screamed gun. I had dealt with these types many times before, and knew they would not pose a problem. Men who liked big guns and talked tough were usually the easiest to take down, considering they had never fired the guns in the first place.

They walked from the foyer of the building, feet padding on the red carpet into the next room, the one I had chosen to use as my kill zone. Neither of these were my target, so I continued to wait in the uncomfortable duct. Another hour passed, and the voice in my ear squawked again, telling me that another possible target was arriving. This time I was lucky. The car doors shut, but this time there were no voices. The door opened once more and two more men stepped through, these ones all business. Left and right both of their eyes swept, then one turned and waved someone standing outside in. 

A third man walked in, eyes on a smart phone, walking and talking into a Bluetooth. “We have arrived. I will handle everything, and call you afterward.”

The two men I had pegged as bodyguards fell into step before the third man, who I knew was named William Miller. Miller was clad in a snappy suit, almost obviously tailor made considering the way it fit his broad shoulders and tapered to his frame. The three men passed beneath the grating and into the next room, and I followed in the air duct, moving much more slowly then they were.