47- Brawl with Marla

There was a snicking sound as the deadbolt slid to one side; she turned the knob, and gave the door a gentle push. The telltale beep of a burglar alarm could be heard from the kitchen. That meant she had only a few moments in which to enter a PIN number, or the security company would call to check on her.

  That was the moment when the Puissance Treize agent heard a series of quick footsteps behind her and began to turn. In one fluid motion 47 shut the door and gave her a violent shove. She tripped, lost the bag of groceries, and fell forward. The Walther was holstered under her left arm, but she had no opportunity to use it as she thrust out her hands in order to break her fall.

  As the target went down, the assassin knew the situation was iffy at best. He had seconds, maybe a minute, in which to subdue an armed opponent and force her compliance before the alarm company reacted. The insistent beep, beep, beep served to emphasize that fact. So 47 was already moving forward, seeking to get a grip on her, when she rolled over onto her back. A can of soup was at hand so Marla threw it. The cylinder hit the assassin on the right cheek and caused him to stagger backward.

  Marla instantly recognized 47 and felt a sudden stab of fear. The Puissance Treize agent had no doubt about her ability to deal with either a burglar or would-be rapist, but she’d seen this man in action, and knew his capabilities.

  Which begged the question: Why was she still alive?

  The answer was obvious. He wanted it that way!

  The realization brought a new sense of hope.

  Marla kicked with her feet in an attempt to put more distance between them, and thanks to the smooth wood floor of the living room, was able to push herself backward. A box of pasta lay within reach, so she threw it with her left hand and went for the Walther with her right.

  But the spaghetti bounced off 47’s left thigh. His right foot made contact with her gun hand, and the pistol went flying. There was a loud clatter as the weapon landed on the hardwood floor and slid away.

  The maddening beep, beep, beep continued unabated.

  Marla thought of herself as fast, but was shocked by the speed with which the man grabbed the front of her raincoat and jerked her up off the floor. A trickle of blood ran down from the point where the can had broken the assassin’s skin, and she could see the cold determination in his eyes.

  The phone began to ring.

  “That’s the alarm company,” the agent said grimly. “Give them the code—and do it now.”

  “Or?” Marla demanded defiantly. “If you were going to kill me, you would have done so by now.”

  Agent 47 bared his teeth as the phone rang again. How long would the person on the other end of the line wait? For three rings? Perhaps four?

  The ringing stopped.

  There was a metallic whisper as the DOVO opened. Light rippled along the razor’s stainless steel blade, and 47 brought the cold metal up to touch the side of the Puissance Treize agent’s softly rounded cheek.

- Hitman: Enemy Within, Chapter 4