A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two Mark Hobson (romantic novels in english TXT) 📖

the wind hit him smack in the face, and the bone-chilling cold blast temporarily took his breath away. Pulling up the hood of his grey coat and pulling the toggles to draw it tight around his face, he strode forward into the buffeting wind, following the narrow maintenance gangway around the edge of the roof, with just a single handrail separating him from a drop several hundred feet to the ground below. The heavy carryall slung over his shoulder was awkward, threatening to further unbalance him.

He chose a spot on the north side overlooking the grey river. Lowering the bag, he unzipped it and commenced to take out the various parts of the AX338 Sniper’s Rifle, the most accurate rifle in the world, and piece by piece he fitted them together.

Lying down and shuffling closer to the edge he altered the legs of the adjustable front tripod, fitted the silencer to the end of the barrel, folded out the stock and cheek rest, and then snapped on the magazine containing 10 rounds of magnum cartridges.

Johan tucked himself down so that the stock of the gun fitted snuggly into his armpit and peered through the eyepiece of the telescopic sight.

All he could see was the blurry snow coming down, but with a few adjustments to the lenses, the river itself jumped sharply into focus. He would have to take the strong cross-wind into consideration, but it was mostly negligible: from pulling the trigger the round would find its target in less than half a second.

Johan snapped the bolt-action forward to feed a round into the chamber.

Finally he plugged an earpiece into his ear and turned on the radio frequency interceptor in his inside pocket. He listened to the voices of the police talking on their walkie-talkies.

Pieter watched as Vinke strode across to the ferry terminal, which was little more than a gate leading up onto the rear ramp of the little blue boats that ferried pedestrians and cyclists back and forth to Amsterdam Noord.

He boarded the one marked Buiksloterweg, which would take him on the short five-minute hop over the river to the Film Museum and the A’Dam Lookout tower, and pushed himself towards the bow with the other passengers. Pieter quickly looked around but could see no sign of the other members of K Team, and feeling suddenly nervous, he hurried forward and onto the ferry just as the ramp was going up. He was the last one onboard.

Shit! he thought to himself as the engines rumbled and the boat slowly slid away from the riverbank. He alone, out of the four-man stakeout team, was now with their target.

He just had time to whisper their destination into his walkie-talkie, and then he switched it off lest it suddenly squawk into life and give him away.

Pieter cast his eyes around to search for Tobias Vinke, and he easily spotted his bulky frame leaning against the boat’s starboard gunwale.

The ferry was packed and everybody was standing bunched together for warmth with a cloud of steam rising off their bodies. He politely eased his way through as he wanted to get closer to Vinke. Partly so he could react faster should their target suddenly do something unexpected, but also because he wanted to get a look at him. To see with his own eyes the man they were hunting.

Pieter reached the side and casually moved alongside the large man, his face turned to look at the north shoreline but his every focus on Vinke, surreptitiously taking a quick peak at his features, his body feeling like a coiled spring.

Something about his face struck Pieter as odd, a red splotchy mark over his chin and neck, maybe a birthmark? He didn’t want to stare too much and instead pretended to look down at the foaming water below, trying to appear like any other commuter.

Beside him, Vinke stirred and turned in his direction and Pieter felt himself tense. Slowly he moved his right hand nearer his service weapon in its shoulder holster.

His throat felt incredibly dry.

Tobias swung around. The man standing alongside him looked very pale, and the way he was leaning over the side made him wonder if he was about to puke up. Yet he dismissed this thought, for something had caught his eye over on the south side where the riverbank was quickly receding.

Something up on the roof of the train station was glinting, a piece of glass catching the light, and Tobias frowned in mild curiosity.

Looking through the telescopic sight Johan easily identified the distinctive features and dark clothes of the man standing and swaying amidst the other passengers on the ferry, the person he had come all this way to kill. Lotte had become almost obsessed with her plot to eradicate this interfering fool, who she claimed had caused her too many problems. She just wanted him gone. And here he was, falling perfectly into their trap just as she had predicted. Drawn out into the open.

Lining up the crosshairs on the person’s head, Johan breathed slowly out and gently squeezed the trigger.

There was a quiet pft noise from the silencer, a split second later and the man’s features exploded into a red vapour cloud, and a heartbeat after that the sonic boom of the round rumbled back from the far riverbank.

Pieter noticed Vinke shift, and then water-spray from the river flew into his face causing him to blink. He wiped it away, seeing but not immediately registering that his fingers were covered in red.

When he looked at Tobias Vinke again he saw the other man tottering and Pieter couldn’t work out why, but then he realized that the top of the man’s head was now a gaping hole and blood was spattering everywhere, all over the people around including himself.

Pieter watched dumbfounded as Vinke’s body slumped to the deck.

Thunder or something rumbled quietly in the distance.

INTERLUDE

THE HUNT

South Africa

12 Years Ago

“The secret to a successful hunt, Bart, is to drive