more than you’re saying, Bryce. I want it all.’
‘I was going to tell you everything, Hunter. I just wanted to be sure that we were on the same side first.’
‘God damn you, Bryce. If you’d told me everything when you first contacted me, I could have stopped this from happening.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, Bryce. So am I. But at least you know now whose fucking side I’m on.’
Stalking away from him, I went through into the kitchen to pull out a strongbox I’d concealed behind a panel in one of the kitchen cupboards. Inside I found spare magazines of nine mm ammunition, also a Ka-Bar knife. Out of necessity I didn’t want to have to replace my weapons every time I jumped on an airplane, so I had fake documents that showed I was licensed to carry concealed weapons. My docs would pass the scrutiny of Homeland Security if it ever came to that. There was a wad of cash and a number of credit cards. Killing men is cheap, but never an inexpensive vocation.
Secreting my kit round my body I went back into the living room and found Bryce leaning against a wall cradling his head between his hands.
‘I never believed you were responsible, Hunter. I was worried about contacting you for another reason: I was afraid that I’d lead the bastards to you, but it looks like you were already under surveillance.’
‘Looks that way, doesn’t it?’ The man on the phone had already implied as much. He’d found Imogen so he could use her as leverage against me. But someone must have pointed him my way first.
Since leaving the Special Forces I’ve been working under the radar. Only select people – namely my close circle of friends – know where to find me: Rink, Harvey Lucas, Imogen Ballard and Walter Hayes Conrad.
That took me to only one person. Rink and Harvey would die before they gave me up; Imogen was out of the equation. So that left Walter.
Walter and Bryce had connections, too.
When I was with the unit, I worked under a team of commanders based at Arrowsake in the UK, but I had a specific handler in each respective country. My stateside handler was Walter Hayes Conrad IV. Walter was also Bryce Lang’s CIA boss. Ultimately it was Walter who’d organised the hit on Abadia.
‘Walter gave you the tip-off,’ I said.
Bryce nodded.
Walter was first and foremost a CIA Sub-Division Controller, a director of black ops, but he was also my friend and mentor. Why the hell hadn’t he warned me?
I took out my phone again.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Bryce said. ‘I’ve been unable to contact him.’
And he was right. I couldn’t raise Walter by any of the normal routes.
Whoever was behind this, they were tied to what had happened in Bogota and they’d gained information pertaining to the hit on Abadia. That would mean that they knew about everyone involved, all the way up to Walter Conrad. The fact that Walter was now incapable of answering my call could mean that they’d got to him too. Or, following his tip-off, he’d gone deliberately incommunicado until the issue was resolved one way or another. Without Walter sanctioning my actions, it would mean I was once again acting outside the law, but I didn’t care. These people had chosen to declare war on me: so be it.
I hung up and said to Bryce, ‘We’re out of here.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Maine. Where else?’
‘Jesus, Hunter. How did things come to this?’
I don’t remember Bryce as being so indecisive. This time I noticed he was plucking at his clothing and shifting from one foot to the other.
‘It’s just the way it is. Now, if you want to live to see an end to this, we have to get moving.’
Bryce ran a hand over his face. Then he surreptitiously wiped his palm on the leg of his trousers, leaving a dark smear. He was frightened. So was I, to be honest, but I wasn’t going to give in to the fear. I was going to use it, the way I always did.
Chapter 11
‘See me.’
An opportunity to test his theory should never be
‘I was going to tell you everything, Hunter. I just wanted to be sure that we were on the same side first.’
‘God damn you, Bryce. If you’d told me everything when you first contacted me, I could have stopped this from happening.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yes, Bryce. So am I. But at least you know now whose fucking side I’m on.’
Stalking away from him, I went through into the kitchen to pull out a strongbox I’d concealed behind a panel in one of the kitchen cupboards. Inside I found spare magazines of nine mm ammunition, also a Ka-Bar knife. Out of necessity I didn’t want to have to replace my weapons every time I jumped on an airplane, so I had fake documents that showed I was licensed to carry concealed weapons. My docs would pass the scrutiny of Homeland Security if it ever came to that. There was a wad of cash and a number of credit cards. Killing men is cheap, but never an inexpensive vocation.
Secreting my kit round my body I went back into the living room and found Bryce leaning against a wall cradling his head between his hands.
‘I never believed you were responsible, Hunter. I was worried about contacting you for another reason: I was afraid that I’d lead the bastards to you, but it looks like you were already under surveillance.’
‘Looks that way, doesn’t it?’ The man on the phone had already implied as much. He’d found Imogen so he could use her as leverage against me. But someone must have pointed him my way first.
Since leaving the Special Forces I’ve been working under the radar. Only select people – namely my close circle of friends – know where to find me: Rink, Harvey Lucas, Imogen Ballard and Walter Hayes Conrad.
That took me to only one person. Rink and Harvey would die before they gave me up; Imogen was out of the equation. So that left Walter.
Walter and Bryce had connections, too.
When I was with the unit, I worked under a team of commanders based at Arrowsake in the UK, but I had a specific handler in each respective country. My stateside handler was Walter Hayes Conrad IV. Walter was also Bryce Lang’s CIA boss. Ultimately it was Walter who’d organised the hit on Abadia.
‘Walter gave you the tip-off,’ I said.
Bryce nodded.
Walter was first and foremost a CIA Sub-Division Controller, a director of black ops, but he was also my friend and mentor. Why the hell hadn’t he warned me?
I took out my phone again.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Bryce said. ‘I’ve been unable to contact him.’
And he was right. I couldn’t raise Walter by any of the normal routes.
Whoever was behind this, they were tied to what had happened in Bogota and they’d gained information pertaining to the hit on Abadia. That would mean that they knew about everyone involved, all the way up to Walter Conrad. The fact that Walter was now incapable of answering my call could mean that they’d got to him too. Or, following his tip-off, he’d gone deliberately incommunicado until the issue was resolved one way or another. Without Walter sanctioning my actions, it would mean I was once again acting outside the law, but I didn’t care. These people had chosen to declare war on me: so be it.
I hung up and said to Bryce, ‘We’re out of here.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Maine. Where else?’
‘Jesus, Hunter. How did things come to this?’
I don’t remember Bryce as being so indecisive. This time I noticed he was plucking at his clothing and shifting from one foot to the other.
‘It’s just the way it is. Now, if you want to live to see an end to this, we have to get moving.’
Bryce ran a hand over his face. Then he surreptitiously wiped his palm on the leg of his trousers, leaving a dark smear. He was frightened. So was I, to be honest, but I wasn’t going to give in to the fear. I was going to use it, the way I always did.
Chapter 11
‘See me.’
An opportunity to test his theory should never be
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