XIII (part 2) of prologue

The strange whining had stopped. Amadi wondered, whether it was his imagination or if the noise might have come from another area of the hotel. He decided to run a sweep of the apartment just to be on the safe side. It only took seconds to clear the front room and even less time for the kitchen. With two rooms remaining to investigate, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. He knew the next room contained the wall safe. It would be the most likely place an intruder would lurk. Moving to the shut sitting room entry, he toggled the gun off its safety and turned the doorknob.Only moments away from getting his hands on the diamonds inside, the thief had to make a choice. He thought about fleeing but his greed would not allow him to run--not when he was this close. He decided to wait, to see if the person in the next room would leave. That hope diminished when he saw the doorknob being turned. The thief's gripped tightened around the knife's plastic handle. Sweat dripped from his forehead as the door started to open.Illumination from the front room flooded into the next as the door swung open. The guard's shadow stretched all the way to a nearby wall. Even with the uneven light, he could see the painting that hid the safe laid flat on the floor.Someone is here , he thought.His finger tensed around the trigger of the gun. He needed more light. With a free hand, he reached for the switch. As illumination filled the room, Amadi saw movement, a shadow. Hearing a loud yelp, the guard's eyes were wide in terror as he saw a man dressed in black, holding some kind of strange headgear, leaping at him from a corner, swinging something metal in his hand. He pointed his gun toward the attacker.The thief was still wearing the night vision goggles when the man turned on the lights. It felt as though thousands of small needles were being plunged into his eyes. Ripping the headgear off, he shouted in pain. Everything for him had turned completely white—he was blind. Swaying the knife wildly in the air, he launched toward the guard in the doorway.There was a thunderous noise and then a sudden silence.The thief wondered if he were dead. A loud thump brought him back to reality. He was still alive and unharmed. As sight slowly returned to the thief, he felt a hand gripping at the rappelling harness he wore across his upper torso. Looking down, he saw a black man hunched on his knees muttering something unintelligible. A growing puddle of blood encircled the floor around them. The red ooze swelled wider. He wondered where it was coming from.The thief looked at his hand wielding the knife. It too was saturated in blood. The metal apex of the knife had broken off, leaving only a toothed reminder.Where was the tip? the thief wondered.The security guard's grip finally released its hold and his body sunk to the floor falling onto his back. Blood sprung from the guard's throat like an erupting volcano…where the missing part of the knife was lodged.The guard's eyes were filled with fear, as though he knew his time on this world would soon be over.The thief stood over him unable to move—unable to decide what to do next. There may have been time for him to administer first aid. There may have been time for him to call for medical help.The thief had done neither.His eyes drifted back to the wall safe, away from the dying man's gaze. For ten million dollars, the thief would learn to live with the guilt of letting a man die. For ten million dollars, he would even sell his soul to the devil.

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