Assassins by Mukul Deva Read Free Book Online

could detect no cause for alarm.
    Yet. He reminded himself.
    Ever cautious, he retraced his steps and rechecked. Finally, crossing over to the other side of the Ashoka Pillar he settled down in the grass, making sure he had a clear view of the entrance. Though it was only half past three, the weak winter sun had already begun to wane. Waves of people moved in and out, the last-minute rush before closing time.
    His mobile chirruped, an incoming text. Fatima confirming she was outside. Leon asked her to describe what she was wearing and told her to come toward the minar. He read her reply and then settled his attention on the entrance.
    A moment later, Leon made her out immediately. It was not only the attire she had described, but also the way she was gawking around, obviously trying to spot him. Fatima was dressed very Indian: bright red kameez, black salwar, contrasted with a black thigh-long cardigan, and bandhani dupatta.
    Leon brought the Canon EOS 5D Mark III camera up to his eye. It was a professional model. The 22.3 megapixel full-frame sensor with a 61-point autofocus instantly brought the woman at the gate to life in vivid Technicolor glory.
    Leon felt he had been body-slammed. He could have sworn he was looking at Farah.
    Farah. Freaking. Fairfowler.
    Quirky as her Brit dad and sexy as her Paki mother. Edward Kingsley’s fianc é e, but apparently always willing to get some on the side. Isn’t that why she …
    Stunned, Leon double-checked.
    But Farah is dead.
    Her blood-smeared face, with that shocked expression etched on it, swam before his eyes.
    What the hell?
    The coincidence shocked him. Realizing he was holding his breath only when his mind began to scream for oxygen, Leon forced himself to relax.
    â€œThere are always six other people in the world who look exactly like you and a nine percent chance you will meet one of them.” He remembered his mother telling him. Apparently there was something to that old wives’ tale after all.
    Why the hell does another Farah have to land up in my life?
    Leon grimaced.
    Hadn’t one screwed up my life already?
    The woman in the camera drew closer. Leon sharpened his scrutiny; now on the people around Fatima.
    Minutes passed.
    Nothing.
    Fatima appeared to be alone.
    But he kept watching.
    Niks. Leon lapsed into Afrikaans subconsciously.
    She seems to be alone.
    He allowed a few more minutes to reconfirm that. Finally, satisfied, he rose and began to close in, from her left. His pace measured, but his mind still whirling with a potpourri of thoughts.
    He was looking forward to this conversation, as eager to collect his payment as he was to find out if she was the one who’d betrayed him.
    If she had, she would die.
    Betrayal was not something Leon could allow to go unpunished; he wouldn’t last long in this trade if people did not fear the consequences of betrayal.
    And now this … this uncanny resemblance to Edward Kingsley’s fianc é e, the long-dead Farah.
    His head fuzzy with these thoughts, Leon was halfway to her when he spotted her pursuers. They were fifty feet away, which is why he’d missed them earlier, but closing fast now. There were two of them, both in their mid-thirties. The shorter one was bulkier, but both were swarthy, with slicked-back hair.
    Like Puerto Rican pimps.
    Or cops playing undercover?
    Leon could make out they were either trailing Fatima or tracking her.
    Amateurs. Should know better than to stare at their mark.
    Without breaking stride Leon continued past Fatima. Once past the two men he circled back.
    By now the duo had split up and were moving to outflank Fatima. Leon kept a steady pace behind them, mingling with passing groups of people to ensure he did not stand out. He realized both men had eyes for no one other than Fatima.
    Has she brought them with her or led them here?
    Leon pondered that.
    Is she the bait or the target?
    Either way he knew he had to get rid of them.
    And her. If