“Ah, but you see,” he said, and he smiled. It was a terrible, triumphant smile. “I am not the one you should be aiming at.”
Men poured out of the shadows—not two-bit thugs, but professionals. Mercenaries in black tactical gear, night-vision goggles, silenced weapons. They surrounded her in a perfect circle, twenty guns aimed at her heart. black lagoon: roberta
She downed the scotch in one gulp. The ice cubes clinked like tiny church bells tolling for the damned. “Ah, but you see,” he said, and he smiled
Roberta slowly lowered her rifle. She looked at the circle of guns. She looked at the dying man in the wheelchair. And then she laughed. It was a hollow, horrible sound. The ice cubes clinked like tiny church bells
Rock, against Dutch’s orders, went looking for her. He found her in the ruins of the old church on the hill, the one the mortar round had gutted during the last turf war. She was kneeling before a shattered altar, not praying, but cleaning a massive antique hunting rifle—a weapon older than the city itself.