Chapter 2 - The Red Eye in the Ceiling
I didn't panic; my fifteen years of deep-cover intelligence training kicked in before my heart could take another beat.
I silently slid my hand beneath my jacket, gripping the compact tactical knife I always kept hidden in my belt lining.
The door handle of Room 214 clicked softly, shifting downward in the agonizing silence of the hospital room.
I stepped into the shadow behind the heavy wooden door just as it swung inward, a tall figure clad in a dripping black raincoat stepping into the dim light.
The man didn't look toward the corners of the room; his eyes went straight to the bed where Chloe lay motionless under the heart monitor.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a silenced pistol that gleamed dully under the fluorescent lights.
Before he could raise the weapon, I lunged from the shadows, my blade slicing through the air with a speed he never anticipated.
The knife caught his wrist, forcing him to drop the gun onto the linoleum floor with a muffled thud.
He let out a sharp gasp, his amber eyes widening in absolute shock as he recognized the retired woman standing in front of him.
"Elena?" he whispered, his voice trembling as he backed toward the wall, his hand clutching his bleeding wrist.
"You're supposed to be dead, Berlin elite."
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"I died five years ago, Marcus," I hissed, stepping on his dropped weapon and pressing the tip of my blade directly against his jagged jaw scar.
"But if you touch my daughter again, I will make sure your death is much more permanent."
