P2

by Doc0517

P2 is the continuation of the series that started with Saving the Saviors, followed by Pointillist. In this third book, we join our Team just after the shoot-out. Greer's Team is gone, and Harold's Team is hurting. After some much needed time to recover, events take them out of Manhattan, to chase Greer wherever he tries to hide.

21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: she still slept (rated T for adult themes)

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Please note: In the Works Cited portion of Chapter 1 there are suggested music pieces to accompany this and other Chapters to enhance your experience of reading. I hope you enjoy them...

Manhattan, January, 2015

Fan's eyes opened, and she waited. She could just hear the sounds of breathing behind her in the bed, and the warmth of breath on her shoulder – the one with the dragon breathing fire on it. She smiled and raised her head to look around her.

It was the middle of the night, three or so. The perfect time. She raised the sheet and blanket, sliding away from the woman next to her, without waking her, and strode with long steps into the bathroom. Enough light came in from the window for her to see herself in the mirror, and she ran the water in the sink, washing her face and hands in the warm water, patting her skin with the towel from the bar behind her. She dropped it to the floor when she finished. Then she ran her fingers through her hair and shook it, watching the long, black hair shimmer in the light.

Her clothes were there on the floor in the room, and she bent down to retrieve each piece, sliding on her skirt, and her lacy black top, then the long black boots, pulling one at a time over each leg. When she was ready, she slid the black coat over her arms, and lifted up her hair from underneath the collar, letting the thick glossy strands slide from her hands over the top and down her back.

A glance at herself in the mirror – she was a vision in black leather, long and slender. Then back over her shoulder to the woman she'd left in the bed. Fan smiled again, reaching for the hotel room door, pulling it open, softly, watching to see if she woke. But she still slept.

Fan stepped into the hallway, holding the door for the men standing there, nodding to them that they could go in, and stepping past to the woman leaning there against the wall, waiting. Madame Huang – who looked her up and down, with the slightest of smiles in her eyes. And, in Mandarin, said:

"Good work, my daughter."