It’s raw, unedited and still undergoing construction. But here is a scene from the upcoming “Predator’s Game”, sixth novel in the Scott Wolfe/Combine Septology Saga.
3:25 p.m.—February 3rd—Spryte Tower, New York, New York
HEINRICH BRAUN got out of his sedan in the underground VIP parking garage at Spryte Tower. His personal driver and bodyguard, Patrick, closed the back door after grabbing Braun’s briefcase for him.
“And I don’t want Baynebridge people in charge of security on our insurance policies anymore,” Braun said into his phone as he and Patrick made their way to the elevators.
In front of him, three muscular security guards sat at the glass enclosed elevator lobby, two inside and one outside.
“I don’t care how long it takes to staff up,” Braun said, clipped, into the phone. “There is too much scrutiny on Baynebridge for us to be using them for anything but standing guard in public.”
The guard standing outside the door looked up upon hearing his company name.
“Mr. Braun,” a woman called from behind them. “I need a moment.”
Braun turned without taking the phone from his ear and saw an attractive woman in business attire walking toward them. Her tightly pulled pony tail swished back and forth as she moved hurriedly in their direction.
Braun leaned over to Patrick and whispered. “Please see that she doesn’t disturb me.”
Patrick nodded and turned back to intercept the woman. “I’m sorry, Miss, you’ll have to make an appointme—”
The sound of a scuffle turned Braun’s head as the security guard at the door and one from inside rushed forward. Patrick was lying on his back, his weapon drawn but twisted grotesquely back toward him. If his wrist wasn’t broken, it was certainly severely sprained in Braun’s estimation.
The first of the two security guards arrived, both with their weapons already drawn. “On the ground!” they yelled nearly in unison, repeatedly.
The woman dropped Patrick’s weapon almost as if she had decided she was done with it anyway, before lacing her fingers behind her head.
“Patrick. Are you able to get yourself off the ground?” Braun yelled.
As one of the security guards holstered his weapon in order to handcuff the woman, she lashed out with a spinning back punch, closing the distance with incredible speed. The guard attempted to block, but the woman twisted his body around as a shield and drove him forward toward his partner. Before the second guard could take a clean shot, the distance had been closed and the woman’s foot shot out from behind her human shield, striking the second guard in the temple.
Braun reached for the Walther beneath his coat as an electronic alarm began squealing all around them, followed by the third guard bursting through the door. The woman spun the first guard around as the late entrant began firing, two shots impacting in the chest of her human shield. Patrick, who had pulled himself to his feet, rushed toward the woman, but was still two steps away when she launched herself over the shoulders of her hostage and scissored her legs around the neck of the third guard.
Braun brought his weapon to bear on the woman as she wrenched her weight sideways, flipping the guard to the ground and stripping his weapon from his hand. Patrick stopped in his tracks as the woman crashed down on top of the Baynebridge man, aiming the guard’s weapon at Patrick’s head and producing a second, silenced pistol from behind her, leveling it at Braun’s head.
“I just wanted a chat,” she said to Braun, smiling from the ground, her legs still wrapped around the throat of the unconscious guard.
Braun looked up at Patrick and then back to the woman before tucking his Walther back into its holster. “Put it away, Patrick,” he said and continued to stare at the woman as Patrick holstered his own weapon.