Read Deliver Us From Evil for Free Online

out of eleven. She did it again. Eleven for eleven.
     She did it once more. Nine out of eleven. Despite the efforts of the fan, the tunnel was now heavy with the smoke and her lungs felt congested.
    “Bloody hell,” she barked as she hacked and whipped the murky haze with her hand. Reggie figured she could blame the last
     few misses on not being able to actually breathe or even see the damn target. She trudged back up the tunnel wishing that
     they could have a proper gun range, but the tunnel was the only place where the sound of the shots wouldn’t carry to a pair
     of ears that might in turn contact the local constabulary. Doddering academics were not supposed to have penchants for firearms.
     She was surprised to see Whit standing by the doors leading back into the greenhouse.
    “Reckoned you’d be down here. How’s your aim?” he said.
    “Bloody awful.” She closed the double doors and locked them.
    He leaned against a glass-topped storage cabinet that had once been used to hold seedlings. In the deepening chill his breath
     came out as small vapor. “Well, don’t get your knickers in a knot. Your choice of weapon isn’t often a gun. You’re more the
     knife-and-pillow gal. I’m the nine-millimeter man.”
    She frowned at his bluntness. “You really can be an idiot sometimes, Whit.”
    “I’m not making light of it. But you’re wound tighter than anyone I’ve ever met.”
    “Then you need to get out more. I’m actually pretty laid-back.”
    “So what do you think about this Fedir Kuchin bloke?”
    “I think we’ll be seeing him in Provence soon enough.”
    “Little close on the planning end. I’d prefer some more time.”
    She shrugged. “The way the professor tells it, the viper doesn’t come out in the open very often. This may be our only chance.”
    “Your cover has to be top-notch. This guy has the resources to check deep.”
    “Our people have always come through before.” She waited, sensing that he had more to say.
    “I want in on this on the ground,” he said suddenly, then paused, probably to study her reaction to these words. “Maybe you
     can nip over to the prof and talk to him?”
    Reggie slipped her pistol into its belt holster and wiped her hands off on a rag she drew from a workbench. “The plan’s still
     preliminary. There’s time for that.”
    “You know how Mallory thinks. He fancies you as always the first choice for the tip of the spear.”
    “You’ve had your share of mission leads, Whit,” she said firmly.
    “I did , before you came along. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not blaming you. You’re excellent, really brilliant at this stuff. And since
     it’s mostly old blokes we go after, having a lady in the lead makes sense for getting their guards down. But I’m not bad either.
     And the thing is, I didn’t sign on for this job to carry the bags all the time. I’d like to get me whacks in too.”
    She considered this for a few moments. “I’ll talk to the professor. Kuchin isn’t a nonagenarian Nazi who’ll get duped by a
     pretty face and a glimpse of thigh, now is he?”
    Whit grinned and moved closer, running his gaze over her. “Don’t sell yourself short, Reg. That stuff works for most men.
     Young and old.”
    She smiled and lightly smacked him on the cheek. “Thanks for the offer, but shove off.” Before he could take another step
     toward her, Reggie passed by him and set off back toward the mansion. She made only one other stop: the estate’s graveyard.
     It was situated a respectful distance from the main house, past a stand of birch and nearly surrounded by a hedge of stout
     English yew. The headstones were darkened by the passage of time, and it seemed even colder here, as though the corpses below
     could somehow extend their chilly influence to the surface.
    She stood in front of one grave and, as she usually did, read off the ancient marker.
    “Laura R. Campion, Born 1779, Died 1804. An angel sent on to Heaven.” She had no idea