Produktdetails
- Verlag
- GM Books
- Erschienen
- 2015
- Sprache
- English
- Seiten
- 360
- Infos
- 360 Seiten
- ISBN
- 978-1-882383-36-8
Kurztext / Annotation
The best CIA assassins are not always good at interpersonal relationships or dealing with the consequences of their acts. In the end, can these hired assassins go home? They shouldn't...this is a powerful thriller based on just such an individual...be prepared to be terrified.
Textauszug
Chapter
Walking toward the farmhouse, Gary could smell the dead man's shit. He didn't know who he'd just killed, but he knew what he was. The stiletto dagger had given that away-a killing knife. He was American, so probably worked directly for Sidney. This led Gary to believe the dead man was most likely as sadistic as the man he worked for. He hoped that was the case; but the man had no fighting skills, the kill had been too easy. There were a few different types of predator Gary had come across, in his time as an unofficial assassin for his country. Some only hunted the weak and defenseless; Gary wouldn't be surprised if the man he'd just killed fell into that category. Then there were those like Sidney. Men who didn't set out to kill, but certainly didn't care if people died because of what they did. Gary was not one of these. He was an apex predator, a great white shark who liked to eat other great white sharks. Unfortunately, there just weren't that many great whites left. It had been a long time since Gary had tangled with one. Today would be no different. Sidney was a brutal bastard, but he wasn't apex. Gary slinked up to the house and walked around it. Sneaking peeks in windows, then crouching low as he passed beneath them. He didn't see anyone inside. He approached the back of the house. He could hear two men having what sounded like a heated argument. He stopped at the back corner of the farmhouse and listened carefully. The two men continued arguing on the back patio. Their voices were clear, making eavesdropping easy. Sidney's voice was unmistakable. The other man had a refined, New England accent, and a distinctive habit of occasionally dropping his "T's". Gary did not know who he was. "...I think you're over reacting," Sidney stated, now in a relaxed tone. "I'm not in the slightes'. You can ask Norman. Our Chinese contac' said the Americans know who you are and they're sending someone to kill you. Us if we're caught togethah," the New Englander insisted. "Dude, this house is as safe as they come," protested Sidney. "We've been coming here for ten years and no one but us has ever been here." "Yes, " the New Englander said with hard accusation "but you killed children this time. You killed seven'y-three children!" "Hey man!" Sidney replied defensively, "I did my job. We knew there'd be kids working there. If anyone's to blame it's Exxon. Fuck them. I did the work and the Chinese transferred the final payment to my account this morning. So they don't really give a shit if I killed seventy-three kids." "No, they don't, but the Chinese don' want you being killed - or worse captured and interrogated." The New Englander paused. "That's why you can't stay here. The CIA is sending someone after you." "I'm not afraid of a CIA spy," spat Sidney. "Good, because they're not sending a spy, they're sending an assassin, a trained killah." The New Englander paused for a moment. "God...what did Lee say his code name was? It was something silly. The Nerd or the Dork or..." There was a roar of laughter from Sidney. "Seriously?! I'm supposed to be afraid of someone called the Nerd or the Dork?" "It was something like that. Shit wha' was it? I should have written it down," the New Englander said absently. Gary slipped off his jacket and laid it on the ground. He wanted Sidney to see his t-shirt. He may or may not know what it was, but he definitely wanted Sidney to see it. He pulled the Berretta and stood up straight. He then rounded the corner to interrupt the conversation with extreme prejudice. "Oh no, oh no, The Nerd is coming to get me...ha-ha-ha! Oh god, don't hurt me, The Dork!" Sidney was choking on his own laughter when the gunshot rang out and the New Englander's head exploded all over the small glass cof
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