Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six
Asli stood near one of the far concrete walls, her coat drawn tight around her, her body still as stone. The smell of rust, oil, and dust pressed against her lungs, heavy, metallic, unrelenting.
She hadn't bothered to switch on the lights when she slipped inside. The dark suited her. It covered the shaking in her fingers, and the racing in her pulse. Damn, she felt stupid. Not once had she killed someone for personal gain.
She had her gun pressed flat to her thigh, loaded, cold, and waiting. Not raised… not yet.
The more she waited, the more her patience ran out. She emptied the magazine without a sound.
The rounds vanished into her palm like confessions she would never make. She pushed the one after the other into her pocket without looking.
Then she loaded one back in.
Just one.
Click.
Not because she was unsure.
But because she was certain.
One bullet was all it would take.
Today, it would end.
