Undercover Nightingale Read Online Free PDF Page B

Budapest. Good luck.” Stillman patted Ash on the back. “You’re once again in the drug business, Mr. Toriago. Let’s hope, for your family’s sake, you still remember how to play the game.”
     

    An hour later Ash found his seat on the plane in first class. Before the flight took off he located the minitransmitter inside the cell phone. He dropped the pill-size electronic bug on the floor and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot, then found the one in the watch.
    So much for Stillman keeping track of him. He intended to see the mission through, but without his jailer tracking his ass.
    He skimmed the file on Salavich, then moved on to Jazmin Grant’s profile. He studied the photo, read her stats. Stillman’s blond beauty was five-seven, weighed one-twenty-five, had brown eyes, a nice rack and great legs—she could have made a fortune as a stripper.
    The striking blonde reminded Ash of the old days. If he’d seen her in a bar in Mexico, Marco Toriago would have definitely singled her out of the crowd and paid any amount of money to get her naked.
    But it had been years since he’d played hard and partied even harder. He wasn’t kidding when he had told Stillman that Marco Toriago had died in prison eight years ago. He wasn’t the same man, but somehow he was going to have to resurrect the dead to play this game and win.
    On the flight Ash brushed up on his Spanish, and four hours later Marco Toriago exited the plane in Budapest and made two phone calls. The first one went to Casso Salavich to make an appointment to discuss a business proposition. Prepared to be put off, he was surprised when Salavich invited Estabon Toriago’s son to his bastion on the Danube for drinks at four o’clock the next day.
    The second call he made to Girona, Spain. After talking to his mother and learning all was well, he asked to speak to his cousin.
    Naldo was anxious for a change in scenery, so he invited him to Budapest.

Chapter 3

    T he first shot shattered the windshield and took out the driver. Lazlo slumped forward, and before his forehead hit the steering wheel he was dead.
    A second shot sailed through the broken windshield seconds later. It snapped Matyash’s head back as the bullet took a chunk out of his cheek, spraying his warm blood on the roof of the car and into the backseat where Allegra sat next to Filip.
    The shots were followed by a volley of gunfire that rocked the silver BMW and shattered more windows.
    The car shook as it continued to be riddled with more artillery. Allegra screamed and ducked low into the seat. She heard Filip swear in Italian, felt his hand on her shoulder shoving her farther onto the floor. Then he opened the rear car door.
    “Filip, wait! You can’t go out there.”
    “Stay down.”
    Filip rolled out of the car onto the ground and into the fresh snow that had fallen overnight, then got up and started to run.
    More shots rang out, but the car was no longer the target. The reprieve gave Allegra time to pull the Beretta from her pocket. She raised up from the floor and surveyed her surroundings. Filip was halfway to a grove of trees dodging bullets as they rained down around him.
    Across the river she spotted a flash of light. It had to be the shooter. The target was too far for her to do any damage with a handgun so she didn’t waste the ammo.
    The gunfire stopped as soon as Filip disappeared into the trees. But the reprieve didn’t last long before the gunman began to unload a pound of lead into the car again shattering the side windows. She heard Matyash groan and gasp from the front seat. He must have taken another hit. Maybe more than one.
    She heard Filip yell from the trees, ordering her to get out of the car. While she was weighing her decision on how to do that without being cut down, the sound of squealing tires entered the chaos. Through the open door, Allegra saw a black limo pull up beside the car. The back door swung open and a heavy male voice inside ordered her to