Iron Triangle: A Jackson Pike Novel (Book One of The Iron Triangle Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

wrought iron fence that stretched between brick pillars
and surrounded the apartments had an old world charm. The close to ten
apartment buildings that made up the complex themselves were new and well built. Even the soft beige paint scheme of the apartment buildings
was soothing and non-descript.
    Mohammed sat in the driver's seat of the vehicle and watched
the apartments. His eyes narrowed as he counted the security cameras that lined
the perimeter of the wrought iron fence and took note of the antique looking
streetlights which did a good job of flooding the common areas of the apartment
complex with light.
    He shifted the vehicle into reverse and shook his head. He
was confident that he'd be able to stay in the shadows and avoid detection, but
it wouldn't be easy.
    It was likely a fool's errand, regardless, Mohammed noted.
Very few people could survive riding full speed on a motorcycle into a river.
But when he and his men hadn't found a body, they had to be sure that they had
left no witnesses.
    Mohammed felt lucky as he glanced down at the passenger seat
and Jackson Pike's paycheck. If the witness hadn't dropped the check when he'd
sprinted from the chemical storage facility, Mohammed would have had to search
through DMV records for the motorcycle's registration. That would have required
several hours, and more importantly, corporate involvement.
    As it was, Mohammed was still able to handle this task
himself. It was a consolation for which he was grateful. It had been bad enough
when Susan Winters had turned and tried to give the company over to the FBI.
Word of a second failure on Mohammed's part would surely result in a total loss
of confidence in his abilities, a shortcoming that would almost certainly be
met with his termination.
    He shuddered with the thought.
    Yes, it was much better to deal with this problem himself.
    He shook his head and peered once more towards the apartment
complex, his pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness and sought a
point of entry outside of the sightline of any cameras.
    There, he thought to himself as his eyes fixated on a
segment of chest high brick wall that surrounded the complex's trash compactor.
There were no cameras adjacent to the area, and the lighting was dim at best.
    The trash compactor would be his point of entry.
    He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his left pocket and
glanced down at the map of the apartment complex which he had printed from the
internet earlier in the day. He chuckled to himself. The internet had made
these missions almost too easy. Once beyond the perimeter, it would be easy to
find the witness' apartment.
    Mohammed's surveillance of the apartment complex was now
complete and the assassin shifted the German sports sedan into reverse, careful
to leave its halogen lights off as he backed down the deserted access road that
led to the quaint apartment complex.
    He backed the vehicle into place along a dirt road by near
the garbage compactor, careful not to step too heavily on the accelerator and
create unnecessary engine noise.
    The dark skinned murderer climbed from the driver's seat of
the SLK 350 and stepped to the low brick fence. His business suit from earlier
in the day had long since been replaced by a simple black sweat suit and
matching black leather gloves. His head was topped by a black ski mask.
    In the darkness, Mohammed would be almost invisible, exactly
as he had planned.
    He crouched low behind the brick wall and waited, careful to
look around the adjacent area before making his move. There were no residents
in sight.
    Shrouded by the darkness of the cool September evening,
Mohammed hurled the weight of his muscular two hundred pound body over the
fence.
    He landed with a barely audible grunt, rising to his feet
and surveying the surrounding area. He crouched low and kept to the shadows
along the outside of the buildings as he moved purposefully towards his
objective.
    Dressed in black, Mohammed found it easier than he