The air in the third-floor corridor of Highclere Hall was thick with ozone, shattered composure, and the sudden, violent roar of a building-wide security alert. The fallen guard lay groaning on the Persian rug, clutching his shattered ribs. The second security operative, recovering from the shock of seeing Adrian Sterling move with the lethal speed of a trained combatant, reached inside his tailored tuxedo jacket for a stun baton. "Move,…
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