Royal Elite: Leander by Danielle Bourdon

knocked on the door of old, dated structures, the past warred with the future for dominance. Leander saw decaying clay, stone and wood buildings stand between ultra contemporary, all glass centerpieces of stunning architecture. In his vast travels, Leander had seen what he referred to as The Takeover time and again. Eventually, the most ancient buildings would either be honored and saved as relics and remembered history, or flattened to the ground in favor of progress.
    It never failed to make him nostalgic to see bits of history ground to dust. Even in countries that were not his homeland, he experienced flashes of sorrow for the lost ambiance that simply couldn't be replaced once it was gone.
    Eventually, after a half hour of stop signs, stop lights and turns, the vehicle pulled up behind a moderately aged building with five floors. Leander couldn't tell if it had once housed apartments or commercial offices.
    “This is where we're making our final preparations.” Mattias exited the vehicle at the same time as Sander.
    Leander followed suit, dragging his much lighter pack over a shoulder. Already the temperature was rising outside, vaulting past an arid but cool morning straight into hot-as-an-oven territory. Beneath the layers of his dark clothing, heat pricked his skin. The interior of the structure wasn't much better; either it didn't have air conditioning or the unit was out.
    Trained to deal with all kinds of weather and extreme conditions, Leander dismissed the discomfort and focused on the white washed walls, chipped stone floor and the utter lack of décor. It looked as if someone had simply thrown watered down white paint on the walls and called it a day. He saw no furniture in the halls or the rooms they passed on the way to the stairs.
    Winding through a back corridor while Mattias plotted their progress from a schematic on his phone, Leander shrugged the pack up higher on his shoulder, taking note that the monstrous transport had not left yet. Ever aware, Leander filed away the knowledge that an extra man remained downstairs, covering their back.
    On the fourth floor, the last room on the right was as nondescript as the rest of the building. White walls, plain floor, furniture and all remnants of old tenants stripped away. A quick glance told Leander that there were no other rooms, not even a kitchenette. No heater or vent ducts. It was the basest of base living conditions, abandoned for greener pastures.
    Heavily framed windows overlooked the street below. Across the road stood other buildings, some as decrepit as this one, others of newer make.
    Mattias put his pack down in the farthest corner and set the phone on the ledge of the windowsill. From his pack he withdrew a pair of binoculars and sighted in on a structure across the street, perhaps three buildings down.
    Leander stood to the side of the window and examined the area, honing in on the same structure Mattias viewed. He didn't need to be told that was where Kristo was being held. The beige, six story building was of the same era as the one they currently stood in, with at least two entrances or exits that he could see. Pulling his own pair of binoculars from his pack, Leander took in the questionable detail of the fragile looking doors and the boarded windows on the lowest floor.
    “They're on one of the higher floors, probably, which means we're going to have to ascend the stairs blind,” Sander said. He had binoculars in hand as well.
    “Unless there's some kind of outer staircase in the back, I don't see any other way up,” Leander said.
    “That door on the side looks promising. We can approach from the back, along the other block, so they don't see us coming from the street out front,” Mattias said.
    “Darkness should give us decent cover.” Leander lowered the binoculars and set them on the concrete floor below the window. He slung his pack to the ground and went through a secondary weapon and ammunition check.
    “We'll plan for a