The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 192

Five and a half miles away at The White Lake, Adrian had been lying in ambush for six hours.

After bombing UN Outpost 7, his helicopter had landed right here. If the expedition team managed to survive and reach The White Lake, they would be walking right into a trap that would wipe them all out!

Adrian, a seasoned killer who had survived countless battles, had once asked his boss, "Why didn't you just take them out from the start?"

The lofty, god-like man had simply smiled and shook his head.

"Have you ever kept a cat?" he asked suddenly.

Adrian paused. "No."

David Lancaster turned to look at him, his eyes appearing incredibly deep in the twilight, like two bottomless wells.

"When a cat catches a mouse, it doesn't eat it right away. It lets it go first, watches the mouse run for its life, cornering itself, thinking it has escaped—and then the cat swipes at it again. Then it lets it go, and watches it run once more."

"Until it can't run anymore, lying on the floor gasping for air, its eyes full of terror and despair. That's when it eats it."

"I don't just want them dead," David said, his voice so soft it sounded like a secret. "I want them to die at the very last step. Don't you think that expression of utter defeat... is absolutely spectacular?"

Adrian lowered his head.

He didn't speak. In his seventeen years as a hitman, he had seen all kinds of employers—some cried, some laughed, some were cold and calculated, and some were hysterical.

But David was different.

He simply loved watching the exact moment hope was snuffed out—like putting out a cigarette, watching the last spark die between his fingers before crushing it into dust.

"Go," David said, patting him on the shoulder. "Wait at The White Lake. They will come."

What he hadn't expected was that, right at this moment, another helicopter would appear in the sky.

"Adrian, there's a helicopter. Do we engage?"

His partner's voice crackled through the earpiece.

Adrian kept his predatory gaze fixed on the helicopter hovering above the lake. The rotor wash kicked up a wall of white snow, but the cabin doors remained stubbornly shut.

"Wait for my command," he warned in a low, cautious voice. "Be ready to strike at any second."

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