Page 362 of Lars

This was it.

I breathed out…

And in the space between my heartbeats…

I pulled the trigger.

POW!

In the close-up view of my scope, the bulletproof glass over Rosolini’s face turned white as snow with a thousand tiny cracks. Around the weakened area, though, the glass was still transparent.

The first bullet had been explosive-tipped; the second was a regular bullet that would punch through the weakened glass and paste Rosolini’s brains all over the wall.

I was just about to pull the trigger for the second time when I saw the mystery man dash out of the shadows towards Rosolini –

And my blood turned to ice.

I would have recognized that profile – that blond hair and golden beard – anywhere.

LARS?!

I was already pulling the trigger – my brain had already sent the message to my finger –

But seeing Lars made me twitch the tiniest bit and hesitate a fraction of a second.

A fraction of a second was enough.

Lars was already tackling Rosolini to the ground when the bullet punched a hole through the weakened glass.

FUCK!

I’d missed the target –

But all I could think was, WHAT THE FUCK IS LARS DOING HERE?!

But now they knew I was here –

Which meant I had to get out of there ASAP.

I stood up, slung the rifle across my back, and ran.

At this point, I didn’t give a fuck whether the cameras saw me.

All I wanted to do was GET OUT.

As I sprinted through the olive groves, all I could think was, What the fuck?!

What the FUCK?!

WHAT THE FUCK?!

How the hell could such a coincidence have happened?!

And then I realized:

There’s no WAY this was a fucking coincidence.

None.

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