Hunter Hunted by Jack Gatland (best romantic books to read .TXT) 📕

The crawl space was mainly filled with insulation and ceiling beams running parallel to each other for the entire length, and only a couple of feet above him were the beams for the next floor. He only had a minimal area with which to crawl, but luckily there were small planks across the beams beneath him, most likely left by Trix.

Who, being smaller and skinnier, probably managed this with ease.

Quickly, he slid across a few feet, pulling up another tile and dropping into the hallway that led to a staircase. He was now effectively in a different building, and he hoped that this would take a while to be discovered as he ran up the stairs. At the top, though, he found he was in another narrow corridor, and for a moment he’d lost his bearings.

Follow the corridor west, to the front facing windows.

Doing this, he found another narrow corridor heading north, where the windows to the building were situated. Running as far north as he could and then opening the last window, he stared out over Temple Inn.

This was his route out.

Carefully he climbed out of the window, clambering onto the top of it; as the roof was sloped and the window was jutting out, which meant that it had a small square above it he could gain a grip on. From there he reached up to the top of the small, sloped roof, pulling himself up and over, sliding into the channel along the middle of the building. He’d been lucky; the trees outside the offices had blocked people from seeing him do this unless they’d actively been looking for him. And currently the only people doing that were still inside.

The channel ran from north to south, sloped roofing on either side, but to the north was a ladder leading up to the roof of the next building. Declan climbed up and onto the roof, now finally able to run on the flat surface as he covered the fifty yards to the next building with ease, moving onto another sloped roof building before stopping.

The roof was too high to climb; all that he could use was a foot-wide balcony that ran to the left and around the building. It was only around ten yards long, but he would be exposed to anyone looking up. And the roof to the left was a sloped one; he’d have to slide to the other side of it to ensure that he wasn’t seen, while trying his best not to slide off.

He needn’t have worried. Sirens were now blaring in the courtyard as police cars were pulling in, police running into the Temple Inn Crime Unit. They were so convinced that Declan was still there that they weren’t spreading out yet. And the noise and commotion was enough to distract anyone walking in the courtyard, ensuring that they weren’t looking up to the suited, terrified fugitive who now clambered for his life over slippery roof tiles five storeys in the air.

Eventually he reached the next block of buildings, pulling himself gratefully over the sloped roof and down into a walkway. From there it was a twenty yard dash to a white door. He looked around, but couldn’t see a keypad.

Trix had said there was a keypad.

Looking north, he realised with a groan that he was at the wrong door. Trix had mentioned a jump; he hadn’t even reached that part yet. Forcing himself to breathe slowly, he thought back to her words.

West, north, and west again around Old Mitre Court, jump north onto the next building.

‘Christ,’ he muttered as he moved on, continuing north and clambering around a chimney stack to climb onto yet another roof, this time the one above Mitre Court Buildings. Although sloped, this room had a large flat area to run on and Declan did this, making his way three quarters of the way along before turning to the right and north. There was another building facing him, a channel beside a small sloped roof, his only opening.

But there was a six-foot gap between them.

A gap that, if he missed, would see him fall five storeys down to his death.

Taking a deep breath, Declan ran down the roof, using the speed to give him momentum as he leapt across the gap.

He didn’t make it.

Luckily, however, he landed hard on the edge of the building, his arms scrabbling for purchase on the roof as his legs dangled over the drop. Pulling hard at the guttering that he could grasp, he clambered onto the roof, taking a moment to revel that he wasn’t dead.

Come on, move you idiot

Rising and now on shaky, adrenaline fuelled legs, Declan made his way north, up the staircase and to the second white door. This one did have a door code and, after entering it, Declan made his way shakily down four flights of stairs and emerging, as Trix had said, next to Messrs Hoare Bankers.

Looking around, Declan realised he had moments only to decide what to do next. He needed to go to ground, to continue investigating the case, while most likely becoming the subject of the biggest terrorist manhunt London had found itself in for years.

Think, Declan.

He couldn’t use cards. They’d track him. But maybe that was an idea? Perhaps he could use this to his advantage?

Yes, that would work. It was a half-mile walk to St Pauls, and everything he needed was there.

Turning eastwards down Fleet Street, Declan walked quickly, pulling his lapel up to hide his face. With luck, they’d be searching Temple Inn for a good hour.

That was plenty of time to disappear.

17

Deals With Devils

Doctor Marcos had sent DC Davey back to the Crime Unit as soon as they’d exited the hospital; as far as she was concerned it was a far better plan to keep someone on the inside, to ensure that Sutcliffe and his goons didn’t destroy the unit before Monroe returned to gain bloody vengeance.

That said, Monroe still