Had they followed him? He smiled at that and shook his head. Following him was a joke, laughable. He chuckled. Then he looked over his shoulder at the bed and her fading image. Her transparent smile faded with her. And then he was pissed.
They’d interrupted his time with her and their lively discussion of which Caesar was the most effective Roman leader. Marcus Aurelius, although gone for most of his reign campaigning in the north, was his favorite. She considered Julius Caesar’s reign to be the most successful as emperor.
No, these men weren’t here for him. They were in and around this building because they believed it was occupied by Bosniaks – Bosnian Muslims. They were here for some good ol’ ethnic cleansing.
As he watched her go, he followed Fuchs’ guidance. His CIA special ops mentor always loosened his joints, especially his neck, rolling his head in all directions. The footsteps in the hall stopped about eight feet from his door. The man was on the other side of the wall. Black Angel stepped from the wall and fired twice with the silenced Sig. He put two bullets through the wall at four and two feet from the floor. The man in the hall was hit by both bullets and groaned while falling to the floor.
Black Angel flew to the door and pulled it open while rolling into the hall. The wounded guy on the hallway floor was in the process of raising his gun. Too late. One more silenced shot through the soldier’s head ended his suffering. In the next moment, Black Angel was up and opening the window at the end of the hallway. He had chosen this dilapidated apartment building in Mostar, Bosnia because of its fire escape at the end of the hall, which was really just a set of rusted stairs down to a tight alley below.