Chapter 26 London’s Last Head

London’s rain lashed the streets of Whitechapel, a relentless curtain that blurred the city’s neon and grime. Lena Carver crouched in the doorway of a derelict pub, her Glock a cold anchor in her trembling hands, her wounds shoulder, thigh, arm, and hip throbbing beneath blood-stiffened bandages. Th...

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