AMIRA by Matthew Betley (feel good books to read .TXT) 📕

to run, Omar.  Your time has finally come.  All you did in Africa was for nothing, only to die in a losing effort on US soil.  Now, go to hell, for good.”

Before Omar could respond, Amira twisted his right wrist to the left and plunged the letter opener into his left side.  She felt the blade grind against a rib as she pushed farther, searching for a vital organ.

Omar shrieked in pain, and his body went rigid as if an electric current ran through it.

Amira mercilessly withdrew the letter opener, released the blade mid-air, and switched her grip with the blade now emerging from the back of her right hand.  With blinding speed, she brought the letter opener in front of Omar, and he watched in horror as she buried it into his chest, piercing his heart.  He stared down and saw the $19.99 sticker on the handle facing up, looked at Amira one last time.  Her merciless pale blue eyes were the last things he saw as the darkness consumed him, and he fell to the shop’s floor, dead.

“Are you okay?” John said from behind her, and Amira felt her heart race at the sound of his voice.  He held her pistol in his left hand, as she’d known he would.

She turned and faced him, and said, “The world is a better place with this monster no longer in it.  I’ll tell you the whole story after this nightmare is over.”

“That’s my girl,” John said, and smiled.  “Now, let’s go help Logan before he destroys this place.  Minus the gunfight, I kind of like it and wouldn’t mind coming back.”

Amira smiled at her lover’s morbid sarcasm.  “One thing at a time, killer.  Let’s go.”

John handed her the SIGSAUER pistol, and the two dashed out of the store in pursuit of Logan, hoping there was still time to save Director Tooney.

Chapter 21

Logan West ran down the concrete walkway from the atrium to the Riverview Ballroom, which had been constructed off-set to the right of the Gaylord and closer to the Potomac River in order to create the capital region’s first infinity ballroom.  The sun was still up and wouldn’t set for another twenty minutes or so, but the wind blew in off the water, swirling around him as he ran, although the Kevlar vest he wore kept him warm.

The day had started like most others after the events in Venezuela earlier in the year – Sarah and he had changed and fed Sophia, who at three and a half months, had finally started sleeping through the night.  He’d thought endless days of sleep deprivation at the Marine Corps Basic Reconnaissance Course and then years of training in Force Reconnaissance Company had prepared him for fatherhood, but he was still tired, day after day, although he knew Sarah carried most of the burden.  After the morning routine, he’d checked in with Jake Benson, the unofficial overseer of Task Force Ares, as dictated by President Preston Scott.  But after Venezuela and the dismantling of the Organization, the task force had laid low, checking in at their new headquarters on the grounds of Quantico co-located with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team, headed by their close friend and ally, Lance Foster.  But then John had called him at home, and the day had escalated wildly, until once again, Logan found himself running with a gun towards a new threat.  Can’t catch a break. 

More gunshots erupted behind him in the atrium, but he ignored them and prayed his friends were on the giving end of the gunfire.

He reached the first set of doors to the Riverview lobby and yanked the one on the right wide open.

The Riverview Ballroom was a two-story, rectangular structure with a curved roof that dipped down where the lobby emptied into the enormous sixteen-thousand-square-foot ballroom enclosed by glass on three sides that overlooked the Potomac River and DC to the east.  The panoramic vistas were breathtaking, and the venue was usually booked a year in advance.

He stepped into the lobby, which ran the length of the facility.  On the right were the restrooms and a series of rooms that comprised the pantry and kitchen to stage the food for the events held in the ballrom.

On the left, a series of doors were set at intervals along the entire lobby, providing access to the ballroom.  The doors were all open, as attendees of the summit moved back and forth between the main venue and the lobby.  Great.  More crowds.  What did you expect?  This is the Big Leagues when it comes to the Intelligence Community.

Several people stopped mid-stride as Logan stalked across the blue carpet towards the first set of open doors, his Kimber at the ready and the FBI badge swinging across his chest.  Their civilian senses told them something was amiss, but they weren’t sure what, although Logan was certain had they known, they would’ve fled in a panic.  Keep the panic to a minimum, until it’s out of the bag. 

Screams and a series of gunshots reverberated from inside the ballroom, and Logan sprinted to the doors, hoping to get through them before the bystanders inside fled for their lives.  Well, so much for the element of surprise. 

Logan burst into the ballroom and stepped to the left along the wall besides the door as the first panic-stricken people dashed out of the line of fire past him.  What had been a speech on the cyber vulnerabilities of America’s power grid, specifically, the supervisory control and data acquisition systems – known as SCADA – that controlled it, had turned into a sustained gunfight.

Logan West absorbed the entire scene in an instant and snapped a mental picture, even as he moved left along the wall.  Director Tooney was nowhere in sight, but three of his personal security detail crouched behind the elevated stage on which the director had been