Point Of Betrayal. Don Pendleton
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Kinsey’s eyes narrowed. “Simple rules for a simple man.”
“You know, for a lady, you got some real clangers. Who knows you saw me?”
“Everyone.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
Stone stepped forward, crowding Kinsey. She felt her heart slam in her chest and her lips go dry as he did. He pressed his Glock to her forehead, used it to sweep aside a lock of her hair. The muzzle left a cold trail on the skin it touched. Despite her bravado, Kinsey was scared. Stone was a sociopath and he’d kill her without remorse. Her only lever, the only thing keeping her alive, was information.
That and Stone’s propensity toward underestimating women.
Kinsey was a trained agent. She could hold her own against any man. Stone knew this about her but chose to bind her hands in front of her, leaving her in a position to strike out at him.
More motion flashed on the television monitors. A glance told Kinsey that the lone warrior had blazed through the exterior guards and was making his way through al-Shoud’s compound.
“You tried to contact someone. Who was it?”
Kinsey shook her head. “No one.”
His moves a blur, he cracked her once in the jaw. Her head snapped back hard and a coppery taste filled her mouth.
Blood.
Son of a bitch.
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