Chapter Thirty-Nine
Denton followed the security chief into his office and closed the door behind him. The décor was borderline suicidal with its varying shades of pale gray and polished concrete floor. To make it worse, it stank of body odor and week-old beef jerky. Or maybe it was the chief’s flesh Denton could smell.
The chief sank into his chair. Air hissed from the cushioned seat as it bore his weight. ‘Colonel, it’s protocol that I inform the facility adminis—’
Denton leveled his USP Compact Tactical pistol. Squeezed off two rounds. Two clicks. And, thanks to the sound suppressor, two muffled thuds.
The chief’s head jolted, then rolled forward. His chin dropped to his chest. It looked as though he’d taken a moment to ponder, but the splash of crimson on the rear wall betrayed tha
