The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

middle of the night, but my new friends insisted on seeing you as soon as possible.” Nat gave a wry smile that turned into a grimace of pain. The man holding the gun prodded Nat’s back, and the bounty hunter winced. The jab shouldn’t have hurt that much, but the beating must have touched more than his face.

A grunt of pain and his battered face sent a surge of anger through Anouk, pushing aside her fear for a moment. She clenched her fists so tight her nails bit into her palms.

“It’s alright, Mr Walla. I wouldn’t have missed meeting your new friends for the world.” Anouk’s tone was surprisingly calm and collected. Nat flashed a smile. She had done just right.

The burly man she had seen earlier stepped forward and pointed at Anouk’s katana with his baton. “Give up your weapons, love, so we don’t need to hurt you or your partner.”

Anouk gave a nonchalant shrug. “Alright.”

The smirks on the men’s faces widened, and they nodded to each other. “You are a wise woman, pet.”

Anouk unfastened the strap and lifted the katana out in front of her. The confidence that her anger had given her was fading, and her hands shook more than before. Her eyes met with Nat’s again. They were filled with apology and concern… for her? She gritted her teeth and forced the calmness back to her voice. “Here. Which one of you will take it?”

The burly man nodded to his friend ‘Twitchy’. “Frank, you take it.”

Frank slipped his baton under his belt and took a step towards Anouk, his fidgeting hand outstretched.

She licked her lips and fixed her gaze on the approaching man. Wait for it. He reached to grab the sword from Anouk’s hand.

“Now!” she yelled and swung the sword into Frank’s temple using the scabbard as a bat. As it met his skull with a sickening sharp crack, a grunt of pain escaped his lips before he dropped to the floor with a meaty thud.

An echo of a door being smashed boomed throughout the warehouse, mixed with the sounds of hasty footfall and hollers. Anouk’s eyes went wide and her joints locked in horror when a gunshot thundered. A scream of pain pierced the air behind her, and she craned her neck for a quick look, her heart hammering. Vari and Fitzwil were running towards her, their guns lifted. The other two kidnappers lay on the floor, lifeless.

Vari pointed her gun in Anouk’s direction and fired. A groan and familiar thud happened in front of Anouk and she whipped her gaze back around. The man who had stood next to the door lay dead, blood pooling around his head. His hand was still holding a gun.

“Go, get Nat!” Vari shouted.

Anouk snapped out of her paralysis and leapt over Frank’s unconscious body. She ran to the office, unsheathing her sword. Still bound to the chair, Nat had pinned the thug against the wall. The revolver lay on the floor.

Crashes and a series of explosions echoed outside the office. Anouk dropped flat on the floor. Nat and the thug tumbled over in a heap. More gunshots rang in the warehouse room. Anouk’s heart jumped into her throat. Were there more men?

“Anouk,” Nat growled. The man had pushed Nat off him and was reaching for his gun.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Anouk said and jumped forward. The man had the revolver in his hand and was aiming it at Anouk’s face. She dodged sideways, slashing down with her katana. The bang of the gun at close range drummed her ears. The man’s face twisted in agony and a high-pitched scream rose from his throat. He clasped his other hand on his wrist. Blood poured between his fingers like water from a tap. His severed hand lay on the floor, still clutching the revolver. Anouk looked at her sword’s tip. There was blood. A whistle rang in her ears and the room started to spin.

“Anouk, get these ropes off,” Nat called over the screaming of the wounded man and kicked her ankle with the tip of his boots.

Anouk forced herself to focus—they weren’t clear of the danger yet. Nat rolled onto his stomach, exposing his hands tied behind his back. Anouk’s blade cut the rope around Nat’s wrists and ankles with ease.

Nat jumped after the gun the crook had dropped and pried it away from the man’s dead fingers. Anouk’s stomach flipped and nausea washed over her. She bent double to catch her breath and pushed back bile that was burning her throat and threatening to make its way out of her mouth. Something flashed in the periphery of her vision and she flicked her eyes towards it. The man had a knife in his unsevered hand, holding it blade first to throw into Nat’s back.

“Look out!” Anouk screamed. Nat rolled on his back and fired. The knife hit the wall just inches above his head. Anouk spun to face the knife thrower again, but he was lying on his back with a bullet hole in his forehead.

Anouk gaped at the dead man. Her stomach clutched, preparing to launch its content onto the floor, and she doubled over again.

“No time.” Nat grabbed her hand and pulled her with him out of the office. Thick smoke assaulted Anouk’s lungs, making her cough and her eyes water. Flames licked high around the warehouse, blocking their way to the front door. The roar of the fire was deafening and the heat suffocating.

Five bodies and Frank lay sprawled on the floor.

“I can’t see Vari and Fitzwil,” Anouk called.

“They’ve got out, and so should we, or we’ll be roasted.”

The flames consumed the dry wood like a famished animal, edging towards them with alarming speed.

“Frank may still be alive. We must get him out,” Anouk shouted and took a step towards him.

“He’s dead,” Nat bellowed. “Drop to your knees and follow me.”

Nat crawled towards the back of the warehouse, away from the flames, and Frank. Anouk hesitated for a moment, staring at the lifeless body.