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It was a quarter to eleven when Zee crouched by the door of room eleven. He had rented number twelve directly opposite. The hidden in plain sight strategy was favoured for this particular situation. He deftly attached a silencer to a gun in his right hand then stretched out the left to knock on the door. Seconds later it was slowly opened by a tall, bald headed burly man. Zee angled his body and shot him twice in the chest. The man fell backwards and crumpled heavily to the floor. A stifled scream emitted from the room. Zee paused momentarily, waiting, listening for movement. He straightened up and slipped inside, scanning his surroundings, gun aimed. There was a beautiful brown-skinned young woman with purple-streaked, shoulder length jet black hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her breasts heaved in panic beneath the bodice of her blue short dress; hands clamped to her mouth. Eyes bright with terror. A small red bag was on her lap.
“Anyone else in here?” She shook her head slowly.
“You need to come with me Charlie,” Zee ordered. Her hands fell from her face at the mention of her name. She stared at the stranger in front of her.
“My name is Zee, your father sent me to get you.” Charlie did not move. Her eyes darted to the dead man on the floor with two bloody holes in his chest. Zee glanced behind him then went over to pull Charlie from off the bed. She started to struggle from his grip.
“No. How dare he try to stop me from having a better life. Leave me alone. No!” Zee tightened his hold on her left arm. He brought his face within millimetres of hers.
“Move. Now!” Zee pushed Charlie outside, paused to close the door and hauled her across the corridor. He yanked open the door to room twelve and ushered Charlie inside. He took a quick look around before disappearing behind her and engaging the lock.