The Alex King Series by A BATEMAN (free ebook reader for ipad TXT) 📕

want a secondment to MI5, open-ended. And I want that agreed at Hereford.”

“Anything else?” Mereweather asked sardonically.

“I imagine senior field agents earn more than SAS captains, so I want my paygrade to go northwards. Pension contributions too,” Rashid smiled.

“You ask for a lot,” Amherst commented flatly.

“I’m not asking for an Aston Martin or a jet pack,” Rashid smiled.

“And a good job too,” Mereweather said. “Our budget tops out at Fords and budget airlines. Now, in all seriousness, what did King tell you down in France?”

Rashid held up a hand. “Look, I haven’t eaten all day. There’s a McDonalds across the bridge from here. I’ll be in there with a burger and a brew. You can meet me over there with the paperwork and my get out of jail free card. I’ll need some expenses and a place to stay tonight. I’m not classy, a Premier Inn will do me fine. We can meet there at breakfast if you like, discuss transportation, flights and that sort of thing. Unless you want to get going tonight.” He stood up and looked down at Mereweather. “You can show me out, Simon.”

“Deputy Director Mereweather, if you please,” Amherst said sharply. “You want the paygrade and entitlement, you can take the chain of command.”

Rashid shrugged. “Fair enough, boss.” He walked to the door and waited.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” Mereweather said. He waited for Rashid to close the door behind him, then looked back at Ramsay and Amherst. “Well?”

Amherst shook his head. “Well, I think we just added a bloody great hammer to our toolkit, when we needed a pair of precision snips,” he said. “Seriously, what the hell is it with these sort of men and etiquette? Where did he say he’ll be?”

“McDonalds,” Ramsay said.

“Dear God…” Amherst shook his head. “Okay, Simon. See him out and come back up here. Neil, get what the man wants. You can take over now. Liaise with our new friend. I want you to accompany him, work with him to bring King back in. Simon, you keep an eye on this and report back to me, but I want you on top of this Russian state visit. We need to know where any Syrian radicals are, anyone with Syrian sympathy, ISIS connections, that sort of thing. There’s a three-pronged war and resistance going on down there, and we don’t want anything happening to the new Russian president on British soil. Relations have been fraught enough of late.”

“I’m on it, Sir,” replied Mereweather.

“And Caroline?” Ramsay asked.

“We’ll leave a line of enquiry open. We can’t make a move until we get a lead.”

“But, surely we have to investigate every avenue to come up with a lead?” Ramsay stated. He looked at Mereweather, knew the man had a soft spot for Caroline. “Simon? We are searching for her, aren’t we?”

The deputy director nodded. “We are. But we must bring King in first. Stop him rampaging over Europe, dancing to Helena’s tune.”

Ramsay nodded. “I’ll get on with it then,” he said and stood up. “Unless there’s anything else?”

Amherst shook his head. “Thank you, Neil.”

Mereweather walked out with Ramsay and into the outer office. Rashid was sitting in a comfortable leather chair. He was watching Amherst’s secretary as she typed. She was smiling at him, a little coyly. Ramsay waited for the door to the director’s office to close, then leaned into Mereweather. “We can’t give up on her,” he whispered.

“We’re not,” Mereweather said tersely. “But King needs bringing in.”

Ramsay shook his head. “The two things should go hand in hand. But we’ve done so little to date, that she will probably never be found. King is our best shot. Caroline’s best shot.”

Mereweather shook his head. “Look, while I see our friend out, you get on with the task you’ve been set,” he said sharply. “But come to my office and see me before you go. Understand?”

Ramsay nodded. He watched Simon Mereweather escort Rashid out of the office, then let out a sigh.

“Problems?” the secretary asked, her expression humorous and her eyes inviting comment.

“Always,” Ramsay replied. “But I fear, there may soon be many more.”

24

King wanted a target on the man’s body to give him two things. Maximum noise and maximum incapacity. He wanted the man incapacitated, but he also wanted him to howl like a banshee and bring everybody running. This man had a better suited weapon than the guard with the Uzi, and King intended on using it and leaving the crossbow behind.

The crossbow sights appeared to be off centre judging from the miss on the first guard, either that, or the crossbow fired to the left because of human error. King put the vee and pin sights on the man’s right buttock and eased them a little higher to compensate the distance. He knew that if the man gave up the fight, he may well survive long enough to receive and respond to medical attention. But he would never have known pain like it. He thought of Caroline, his motivation for such cruelty.

And then he squeezed the trigger.

The bolt hit the man between both butt-cheeks. Penetration was deep, but the bolt stopped just short from going through and through as the solid plastic flights, like a set of mini aircraft wings, slowed the bolt to a stop. The man dropped the rifle and howled. King was up and moving towards the staggering man. He had managed to turn around and King saw the tip and shaft of the bolt sticking out from the man’s blood-soaked genitals. The man looked on in horror at King as he barrelled towards him, but he was not able to put up a fight. King caught him by the throat to steady and incapacitate him further, then gave the bolt a twist with his right hand for good measure as