Whiplash Read Online Free PDF Page A

Whiplash,” he said. “Only this time, it’ll be even better.”

3
    Coliseum, Rome, Italy
    N URI’S HEART DROPPED A BEAT AS HE STARED AT THE SOLID stone wall cutting off his escape. He threw himself to his right, pressing against the wall as a bullet flew next to him.Stone flicked from the wall, hitting him in the forehead. Unhurt, he threw himself down out of desperation, crying out as if he’d been hit by the bullet itself.
    “There! There!” people were yelling above.
    “Look out!”
    “Watch!”
    “There’s been a murder!”
    “That man has a gun!”
    Nuri heard footsteps running toward him. He collapsed facedown on the ground, pretending he was dead.
    The shooter hopped over the wall and saw him. She pushed him over to his back, extending her arm toward his heart and firing twice. Then she raised her aim for his forehead and pulled the trigger.
    Nothing happened. The pistol, smuggled past the metal detectors by an accomplice she’d never met, was empty.
    Nuri looked dead. Ordinarily, the woman wouldn’t have taken a chance on looks alone, but she had no choice. She was out of bullets, alarms were sounding, people were watching. She dropped the gun on his prostrate body and fled.
    The bullets that hit Nuri in the chest had bruised his chest and trachea, but he was otherwise okay, thanks to the thin-layer protective vest he wore under his shirt. The Teflon and carbon polymer vest had diverted most of the energy from the small caliber bullets, saving him from death, though not pain.
    He rolled over, trying to get back his breath. With great effort he forced away the black shroud around the edges.
    Scumbags, that hurt. Damn.
    Nuri pushed up to his knees, his whole body trembling. He couldn’t hear anything—there was sound around him, echoes of noise, but nothing his brain could process.
    He got up and stumbled into the next passage, saw someone’s legs moving ahead to the left. He leaned forward, using gravity to help him move. Disparate sounds began to emerge from the incoherent cacophony. People screamed and shouted in panic as they tried to funnel through the Coliseum’s narrow outer passages.
    I have to get close to her , he told himself. Close enough to get a marker on her.
    He reached into his pocket for the vial of marker liquid and held it. A wave of pain hit him as he reached the hall where he’d entered the arena area. Feeling faint and nauseous, he put his free hand against the wall, steadying himself while waiting for the pain to pass. It didn’t, though, and finally he lurched off the wall, heading toward the steps.
    There were so many other alarms and sirens sounding that if the alarm went off when he pushed through the door to the main level, no one noticed. He walked into the main hall, then took a step back as a flood of panicked tourists rushed by, running toward the exit despite the pleas of one of the guards for them to stop.
    “Which way?” he asked.
    “The subject is below,” replied the Voice. “He has ceased to move.”
    “The shooter?”
    “No data.”
    Of course not; the system had no information to use to follow her. Nuri pushed out into the corridor, weaving left and right as people fled. He went to the archway, looking out on the stone path below. But he didn’t see her.
    It was too late now to go back to Luo. His best bet would be to get outside, take a wild shot at finding the shooter or maybe someone supporting her. If that didn’t work—and it almost certainly wouldn’t—he would find someplace to catch his breath, then start figuring out what had happened.
    People were still running toward the exit. Nuri took a few steps with them, his chest heaving but his legs sturdier now. He felt a sting in the top of his thighs and pushed harder.
    The woman had been wearing khaki green pants, with black running shoes. The detail crystallized in his mind as he reached the exit. He tried working his memory toward her shirt. It was some sort of print T-shirt, over another