Page 38 of The Don's Deadly Assassin

A pretty prize for a pretty girl.

Cairo, Egypt

The wind sweeps across the dunes, whipping up a sandstorm that obscures the horizon and turns the world into a blur of golden particles.

Amidst this tempest, the Scorpion sits cross-legged on a woven mat, his face covered with a well-worn keffiyeh to shield it from the relentless gusts.

"Your payment will be sent as agreed," the Scorpion assures the informant, his voice barely audible over the hissing of the storm. The informant nods nervously, eyes darting around as if expecting danger to materialize at any moment.

"Remember," the Scorpion warns, narrowing his eyes, "if you betray me, there's no place on earth where you can hide." The informant swallows hard, clearly understanding the gravity of the situation.

As the informant departs, the Scorpion's phone vibrates in his pocket. He retrieves it with a gloved hand, shielding the screen from the sand as he reads the message. Ten million dollars for the Huntress – an offer too tempting to resist.

"Camela," he whispers, the name barely escaping his lips before being snatched away by the wind. His smile is edged with greed as he confidently prepares for the pursuit, reveling in the challenge that awaits him.

He has survived countless battles in the harshest environments, making him a formidable adversary.

"Let the others chase her through cities and forests," the Scorpion tightens his headscarf against the biting sand. "I will find the girl, teach her the meaning of true hardship under an uncaring sun before her end.”

He wonders what the girl did. The Handler wouldn’t be rid of her unless she betrayed him. She’s gone soft.

The Scorpion's mind turns to preparations - which safe houses to utilize, what weapons to bring, who among the desert tribes might be turned to his aid with enough coin.

The hunt stirs his blood, a welcome challenge to pit his skills against the Huntress's. Only one will walk away. And it will not be her.

"Ten million dollars and the satisfaction of bringing down a legend," he muses, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "This will be a hunt to remember."

The wind continues to howl outside. Somewhere beyond the storm, the Huntress waits. He will make it quick if she does not resist. A small mercy - far more than she would get from most.

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

In the heart of Rio de Janeiro, the Silent Death finishes her capoeira dance amidst the cheers of an adoring crowd. She leaps, spins, and kicks with fluid grace, her body a blur of motion as she revels in being the center of attention.

Sweat glistens on her brow, but she doesn't pause, her energy seemingly endless.

"Bravo! Bravo!" the people shout, clapping their hands and stomping their feet to the rhythm of the berimbau. The Silent Death smiles and bows, basking in their admiration.

But as she straightens, her eyes narrow, and she surreptitiously glances at her phone, where a new message awaits.

"Ten million dollars," she reads, her eyes widening. "Camela, the Huntress..."

The crowd continues to cheer, but the Silent Death is no longer focused on them. Instead, her mind races with excitement. She imagines the thrill of the chase, the taste of victory as she closes in on Camela.

Time to show the world what she’s made of.

Selva Moricento, Italy

The Snake carries the limp body of the young woman through the darkened forest, her long blonde hair trailing down over his arm.

She had struggled at first when he grabbed her, but the toxins on the blade of his kukri knife had quickly robbed her of any further resistance.

He reaches the secluded clearing where an old metal tub sits waiting, filled halfway with clear acid. Without ceremony or hesitation, he unburdens himself.

She lands with a splash and settles into the corrosive liquid.

The acid eats away at her clothes and flesh, dissolving her features into anonymity. The Snake watches dispassionately.

Another job finished. He pulls out his phone to check for new contracts, curious what the Handler might have for him next.

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