Earlier in ti.
Inside the presidential suite.
Zayed had checked in and enjoyed a relaxing hot bath, draping himself in a soft bathrobe and even indulged in so expensive n's cologne.
He turned on the large LCD TV, watching the humming news absent-mindedly, his thoughts long flown to the upcoming affair.
The exotic dancer nad Dali was simply a stunner.
Unlike the voluptuousness of typical Indian won, her figure was tall and slender, with healthy honey-colored skin and deep, alluring features, especially those eyes, which carried a wild and enticing charm on stage.
Just thinking about her powerful dance moves and the hidden fire beneath her indifferent expression made Zayed feel hot all over.
He recalled the nightclub booth earlier, where the nightclub boss flattered him with introductions: "Mr. Zayed, Dali is new here, still a bit fiery, but definitely top of the line..."
He had laughed at that ti.
Every real man likes to ta a wild mare.
About thirty minutes later, the suite's doorbell rang.
The bodyguard stationed in the outer living room confird through the peephole before opening the door.
Outside stood the hotel waiter, next to him was Dali, already changed into a slightly conservative yet equally stunning dress outlining her curves.
"Sir, your 'fast food' has been delivered."
The waiter said respectfully.
Zayed waved from the inner bedroom door, the bodyguard checked the dining cart, searched Dali, then let the two inside.
After placing the bottle of chilled champagne and fruit platter from the dining cart, the waiter quickly left.
The bodyguard, showing discretion, retreated to the outer room, closing the bedroom door—when their boss was conducting business, he didn't like being disturbed.
Now, only Zayed and Dali remained in the room.
Zayed greedily looked at the woman who was much more captivating up close than on stage.
He chuckled and opened his arms intending to rush forward.
"Sir..."
Dali, however, slightly stepped back, her voice deliberately shy, "Please allow to use the restroom first and change my attire... The way here was a bit hot, I want to wash my face."
Although burning with desire, Zayed naturally wouldn't refuse such a small request, instead finding it even more intriguing.
Generously, he pointed to the spacious luxury bathroom in the bedroom: "Go ahead, darling, I'll wait for you."
Can the at at the mouth fly away?
Dali, carrying a small handbag, walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
Zayed, smugly swirling his glass, listened to the faint sound of water from the bathroom and envisioned the upcoming scene.
After more than ten minutes, the bathroom door opened.
Zayed's eyes lit up!
Dali had changed into an extrely sexy dance costu adorned with sequins and tassels, the golden fabric just covering essential parts, revealing large areas of smooth skin and tight, enticing abs.
Her face was painted with heavier stage makeup, eyes appearing dreamy and seductive under the lighting.
She said nothing, rely took out her phone, connected it to the bedroom's Bluetooth speakers, and adjusted the cool light to warm.
A few seconds later, a song with Indian flair and strong rhythm began playing.
With the music, Dali started her performance.
Her dance moves were of professional level, each movent was a perfect blend of strength and flexibility, her waist twisting like a snake, arms waving like a bird, her gaze sotis teasing, sotis indifferent, raising the seduction to the extre with her elusive posture. Tassels and sequins flew with her spins, drawing dazzling halos under the lights.
Zayed watched, lips parched, not knowing when he put down his wine glass.
He was entirely captivated by the enchanting dance and the stunning beauty before him, his eyes filled only with the most primal desire.
As the dance neared the end, the music grew increasingly urgent and enticing.
Dali spun closer to the bed, her final pose static, she was nearly half-lying on the spacious bed, one long leg raised high, her body forming an intensely alluring curve, beckoning Zayed with a finger.
Zayed roared lowly, unable to hold back any longer, like a bull seeing a red cloth, he eagerly pounced forward, intending to press this captivating temptress beneath him.
At that mont, sudden gunfire erupted outside the door.
"What's happening!?"
Zayed felt like a cold bucket of water had been poured over him, desire fled like a deserter through every pore, instantly gone without a trace.
"What's happening!?"
He raised his voice, shouting out the door, inquiring with his bodyguards.
However, outside was dead silent.
No response to his inquiry.
Everything was frighteningly quiet...
As Zayed loudly asked his bodyguards outside the presidential suite, Song Heping quickly peeked from the fire exit—only to see several ard n with short assault rifles, advancing quietly in loose tactical formation toward the presidential suite's door.
They had clearly just erged from the employee elevator and knew the specific location of their target.
The group was less than twenty ters from the suite door.
His arrival was tily, judging by the circumstances, that Zayed fellow wasn't dead yet!
Song Heping's brain evaluated the situation within a fraction of a second:
Firstly, the location: He was at the firefighter corridor exit at the leftmost end of the 30th floor hallway. The assassin team erged from the right elevator hall, approaching the presidential suite ahead on the right.
Secondly, tactical choice:
A: Open fire on site. Advantage is the elent of surprise.
But there were eight of them, equipped with automatic firepower, and with the corridor walls as cover.
Once firefight ensues, it could easily devolve into a standoff.
The dancer in the room is likely to be a killer too. Since Narendra wants to kill Zayed, he definitely wouldn't just arrange for a group of assassins to attack from the outside. A woman is the best deadly weapon to take down a lecherous man.
If he delays for more than five minutes here, Zayed might be taken care of by that woman nad Dali at any mont, and even if he stops these killers, it would be of no use.
B: Force a breakthrough and enter the suite. Rush in before the assassins reach the door!
But this distance is completely exposed to the assassins' fire, it's suicide.
He must get a few seconds of ti.
The only conclusion left is to create chaos, seize the mont to rush into the suite, ensure Zayed is still alive, then use the suite's structure to hold or find another escape route.
Staying here and engaging in a gunfight with the nurically superior enemy will inevitably lead to failure.
In a flash, Song Heping's tactical plan was set!
He didn't hesitate to holster his pistol, and like lightning, pulled an M18 smoke grenade and a fragntation hand grenade from his coat pocket.
Then he fiercely pulled open the fire door at the fire exit!
"Hey!"
He deliberately shouted in English, instantly drawing all the assassins' attention!
Just as those seven or eight assassins turned their heads at the sound, and before their guns could fully turn — Song Heping used all his strength to throw the fragntation hand grenade, which had its safety pin released for one second, towards the middle-rear of the assassin group!
Imdiately afterward, he threw two M18 smoke grenades respectively toward the front of the assassin group and the presidential suite.
"Grenade!"
Soone in the assassin group let out a terrified scream!
Trained as they were, they instinctively dove to the sides to seek cover, instantly causing chaos in the ranks!
Boom!!
The grenade detonated violently in the middle of the corridor.
The deafening sound and shockwave made the entire floor tremble, a flash of fire, fragnts flying, shattering the corridor's artworks and lampshades.
Although most assassins managed to lie down in ti, the light and sound interference and fragnts from the explosion still caused disruption and brief chaos, with two people being hit by fragnts and letting out tragic howls.
Almost simultaneously.
Whoosh——
Whoosh——
With two soft sounds, two dense gray clouds of smoke erupted like mad from the canisters, rising like two walls of gray, enveloping the front half of the assassin group and quickly filling the space between Song Heping and the suite door, greatly obscuring the view.
"Smoke!"
"Target on the left! Open fire! Shoot blindly!"
Amidst the smoke ca the angry and panicked shouts of the assassins and a burst of frantic and blind gunfire, bullets thudding into the walls and floor, debris flying.
This few seconds of chaos was exactly what Song Heping wanted.
Seizing on the mont when the assassins, still dazed by the grenade explosion, were plunged into chaos, he burst out like an arrow from a bow, like a hunting leopard at the mont the smoke rose.
He kept his body as low as possible, almost brushing the carpet, hugging the wall, using the smoke as cover, sprinting towards the slightly ajar presidential suite door at the speed of a hundred-ter dash.
At the sa ti, he swung the MP7 before him, his fingers resting on the trigger guard.
Bullets whizzed past overhead and beside him, chipping plaster off the walls, but his sprinting route and the smoke effectively disrupted the enemies' aim!
"Bang!"
He jumped over the body of the bodyguard at the door, shoulder slamming open the slightly ajar door that those bodyguards hadn't had ti to shut after opening, his body tumbling inside!
Thud thud thud thud!
A series of bullets followed, striking the wooden door and fra of the spot he had just occupied!
Inside the presidential suite's bedroom, Zayed stood behind the door, listening attentively to the commotion outside.
Gunshots…
Explosions…
Everything seed to foreshadow that sothing big was happening.
Sothing big that wanted his life!
"Tatani! What the hell is going on?!"
After calling out several tis without receiving any response from the bodyguards, he finally accepted a harsh reality — those highly paid bodyguards outside were probably all done for…
Phone…
A word flashed through his mind.
Yes!
He finally rembered he needed to call for help.
Though distant water couldn't save a nearby fire.
But he could no longer care about that now.
At that mont, Zayed was isolated, akin to a three-year-old child lost in the wilderness.
He turned around, wanting to retrieve his phone from the bedside table.
Just as he was about to turn around, he saw through the reflection in the golden brass embedded in the bedroom wall —
Dali, who had originally been lying on the bed in a seductive pose, was now standing no more than two ters behind him, her gaze suddenly turning from enchanting to bone-chilling cold.
And in her hand, seemingly like magic, a gleaming, strange-looking short blade appeared, poised in a swift and ruthless stance, raised high...
That kind of ruthless gaze and soul-reaping killing intent couldn't possibly belong to an ordinary dancer!
She's a killer!
"It's over... it's over..."
Zayed's heart instantly sank to the Mariana Trench.
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