Return of the Assassin (Assassin Series 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

had stopped throbbing, but she also felt sleepy and dreamlike.
    “We’ll let you rest for half an hour, then be back. If you feel nauseated, there’s a bathroom through that door.” Urabi pointed to the only other door in the room. “Try to rest.” He turned to face the two guards. “Leave the air conditioning on. There’s no need to cook her,” he said, then punched the remote that activated the room’s unit. Cool air began blowing from the grids, rendering the space bearable.
    His words seemed to swirl around her like clouds, coming from a great distance, distorted. She opened her eyes and regarded him with foggy vision.
    “That’s amazing. Like magic. What did you give me?” she murmured.
    “It’s an opiate. Very useful in controlling pain, as well as in assuring cooperation. Nothing to worry about…”
    “Opiate?” she repeated dreamily.
    “Heroin, my dear. Now relax. Everything will be just fine,” Urabi assured her, patting her hand before gathering his things and leaving, tailed by the two thick-set guards. The distinctive sound of the lock being engaged rattled through the room, leaving the muted hum of the air conditioning as Maria’s only accompaniment to the dawning horror of the diminutive doctor’s whispered words.
     
    ~
     
    Time drifted languorously, like a gentle breeze playing over the soft ripples of a placid lake. Warm water surrounded her as she floated, disembodied, pulled slowly towards a temple at the far shore, the vaguely Asian lines reassuring for reasons she couldn’t have explained, and yet which were instantly so.
    A figure sat at the top of a long procession of symmetrical stairs, swathed in gold robes, radiating peace and tranquility through a cloud of cherry blossoms, which fell in slow motion from the surrounding trees, creating a pink haze of perfumed perfection blown by a light wind that carried with it the plaintive melody of a lute’s lullaby.
    This was Godhead, the place from which all sprang, a center of perfection and infinite wisdom where the universe had prepared for her a home of endless acceptance and belonging. She seemed to hover now, her feet skimming the surface of the lake, riding on the backs of two joyous porpoises whose laughter tinkled in her ears like chimes.
    The tableau abruptly changed, and the snow-capped peaks above the temple underwent a seismic shift, disgorging chunks of ice and boulders in a relentless avalanche of tumbling debris. The music that had been so appealing turned sour and ugly and dissonant, like the shriek of a tortured animal being dragged to slaughter. Maria watched in silent alarm as the rain of destruction moved in a rush, pulled by gravity towards the peaceful sanctuary at the water’s edge. Black storm clouds swept across the sky, and as she tried to scream a futile warning, lightning flashed and the broiling roar of thunder drowned out her tiny cry.
     
    “Wake up. Come on. Time to hit it.”
    Rough hands shook her shoulders.
    Her eyelids fluttered open, and she saw the sweaty, meaty neck of one of the goons two feet above her.
    This was all a mistake. She closed her eyes, anxious to go back into the world she’d been so thoughtlessly pulled from.
    “No. Don’t go back to sleep. It’s time to get up. Move your skinny ass, or I’ll move it for you.”
    Maria forced her eyes open again, dilated pupils unfocused, and struggled to make sense of the rainbow of images that cascaded through her visual cortex. This was an impossible intrusion. Why was she being molested like this?
    A calloused hand slapped her cheek, bringing her fully into the moment with its explosive crack.
    “Ow. What the fu–”
    “Such language from a delicate young flower. Very unbecoming. Now, get up, or I’ll drag you by the hair to the door, and you’ll not soon forget that experience. Up. Now.”
    As if in a dream, she moved first her head, then her arms, then willed her legs to awareness. Slowly, excruciatingly, she sat up, fumbling for