Paradise Burns by J. P. Sumner Read Free Book Online Page B

ceiling. This was probably the riskiest part of the job, but the
quiet drill coupled with the loud music on my TV should mask the noise in the
room above. Unless I was desperately unlucky, and Jackson was stood directly on
or near where I was drilling, he shouldn’t notice.
    The drill broke through the ceiling and
the floor above. I removed it quickly and waited a moment, to see if there was
any reaction. Satisfied I’d remained undiscovered, I went back over to the bed
and retrieved the camera and monitoring unit from my briefcase. The camera was
a long, thin, flexible cord about three feet long. It was attached to a small
notebook-style computer. The seven inch monitor showed what the camera saw.
Where the keyboard would be were two joysticks, which could be used to move
both the camera cord and the lens. I booted it up, then fed the camera through
the hole I’d just drilled slowly, until it reached the floor of Jackson’s
suite. I had the computer in my left hand, and was working the joysticks with
my right, as I stood on the chair. I looked around with the camera. His suite
was huge, which posed a slight issue. Given he had, from what I could see, four
rooms in total, it was difficult to get a true reflection of who was with him,
if anyone, as I could only see into the main lounge area. I could see Jackson
sat at a desk, his head resting in his right hand as he concentrated on
whatever he was looking at. I could see the double doors that led out to the
hall, and I could see three doors leading off from the main room. Two were
closed, but one was open slightly. It was to the right of the entrance doors. I
made a mental note to check that room first, just in case. But other than that,
he appeared alone in his suite.
    There was a knock on my door, and a
voice outside announced itself as room service. I retracted the camera, climbed
down off the chair, put the camera on the bed and retrieved my gun from the
briefcase. The weight of my Beretta was always a comfort in my hand. I knew I
had complete control of any situation when I had a hold of this gun.
    I moved over to the door and opened it,
stepping behind it as I did. As the guy walked into the room with a tray in
both hands, I pushed the door shut and stepped forward. He turned his head,
caught by surprise, and before he could say anything, I slammed the butt of my
gun into his right temple. He slumped to the floor, unconscious before the tray
crashed down next to him.
    Goodnight sweetheart.

 
    ELEVEN
     
    I knocked on
the door of the Summer Suite on the sixteenth floor, directly above my own
hotel room. The uniform I’d borrowed fitted reasonably well. My gun, now
equipped with its silencer, was tucked in the back of my pants and covered by
the bottom of my waistcoat. I was carrying the tray that had been dropped in my
room. I hope he’s not genuinely hungry, because I didn’t salvage much of the caesar
salad that fell on my floor, and it looks awful.
    ‘Who is it?’ a frustrated voice asked
from inside the room.
    ‘Room service,’ I replied.
    There was a brief pause.
    ‘I didn’t order anything, and I do not
wish to be disturbed.’
    ‘Ah, dammit! Listen, I’m sorry for the
mix-up, sir,’ I said. ‘The thing is, I need you to sign to say that you refused
the delivery before I can return it.’
    There was more silence. I continued my
sales pitch.
    ‘I’m really sorry to trouble you with
this, sir. It’s just if I don’t have the correct paperwork, I’m going to get in
a lot of trouble. Can you please just quickly sign this, and I’ll be out of
your way.’
    I heard movement from inside the room.
Bingo! I balanced the tray on my left hand and reached behind me, wrapping my
right hand around my gun.
    I heard the bolt unfasten. I saw the
handle turn. My plan was to drop the tray as the door opened so the noise
masked any sound from my gun as I shot him between the eyes. Then I’d drag his
body into the room, shutting the door behind me. I’d search