Hunters by Matt Rogers (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕

is for us, we might as well take it. What other options are there?’

Alonzo paused to think about it, then seemed to realise Slater was right. The only other choice was to go back into their rooms and curl up cowering in the corner.

Slater went to the door leading to reception and opened it.

The diplomats were scattered throughout the space, but none of them were preparing for the workday. They were sheltering under desks, some of them curled in the foetal position, hands over their ears.

Forewarned of the authorities storming their workplace.

The phone carried on ringing on the reception desk, right behind the glass screen. Slater stepped into the receptionist’s box and lifted the handset off the base. The spiralling cord dangled as he brought it to his ear.

Without waiting for an introduction, he said, ‘I’m guessing that didn’t work.’

The voice on the other end laughed. ‘At least you’re a realist.’

‘Alonzo thought he might have been able to sneak it past your tech guys.’

The voice said, ‘Evidently not. I thought I’d give you a call, though. It was impressive. We almost didn’t catch it.’

‘Are you Onyx?’

A pause. Then, ‘Which one of them told you my name?’

The hunters.

Which was the weak link?

‘A couple of them,’ Slater said. ‘They weren’t robots. They had personalities. They revealed things in their dying breaths.’

‘“Had,”’ Onyx said. ‘Look where it got them.’

‘I thought you trained them.’

‘Clearly not well enough.’

‘So you’ll do it better next time?’

‘Of course. What’s life without improvement?’

Slater said, ‘This call is between us, right?’

‘Right.’

‘No one else listening?’

‘Of course not.’ Onyx’s sarcasm was clear.

Slater said, ‘Everyone listening in knows you’ve got an expiration date. You were the hunter commander. You were in charge of the best of the best. How many hours, how much money, did you pour into those hunters? What resources were wasted with their deaths?’

Silence.

Slater knew this wasn’t how the shadowy figure had expected the call to go. He’d expected to hear Will Slater quaking, pleading for his life.

Onyx said, ‘You must know you’re all out of options. Where’s your fear?’

‘It’s there,’ Slater said. ‘But I’ll never let you hear it. And I’ll die satisfied, knowing you won’t be far behind me.’

Onyx didn’t answer.

Slater said, ‘See? That scares you more than it scares me.’

Onyx stayed on the line, but movement sounded from the other side of the consulate’s front door. Rapid footsteps, shuffling of bodies.

Operatives getting into position.

Slater pressed the handset close to his mouth so Onyx could hear every word. ‘And one more thing…’

‘Yeah?’

‘Watch what happens next.’

Slater dropped the handset as the front door thundered off its hinges.

107

When Deckard swam back to reality in the motel room, there was a disorienting delay between seeing and understanding. He registered his predicament, but it took a few moments to compute.

When he realised his laptop, work phone and gun were all gone, his stomach sank.

Then he looked down and found out he was tied to the shitty desk chair in his underwear.

That made it worse.

He has my uniform, he realised. My gear, my—

He cut himself off there, because nothing good would come from following that train of thought.

Great, Cross thought.

Another colossal fuck-up to add to the list.

108

The handset wasn’t the only thing Slater dropped.

He also relieved himself of his weapon.

Let go of the HK45CT and let it fall to the ground and raised both hands high in the air, fixing himself to the spot so the hit team charging into the consulate had no excuse to shoot him. Which didn’t mean they wouldn’t do it. They didn’t need an excuse.

The door frame was relatively narrow, so they breached in a narrow phalanx formation, all four of them following one after the other with their weapon raised over the shoulder of the man in front. Three of them Slater recognised.

The skull.

The wolf.

The clown.

The fourth wore a plain balaclava, and he brought up the rear. The eyeholes of his balaclava were larger than his counterparts’ and Slater saw he was dark-skinned, eyes bloodshot with adrenaline. Slater thought he could see the veins in his throat pulsing against the wool of the balaclava. One-fifty, one-sixty beats per minute.

He was jumpy.

He was the main threat.

Slater put a look on his face like he was the most innocent person alive, and he hoped Alonzo followed suit.

When he caught a glance of Alonzo in his peripheral vision, he saw the tech wizard had raised his own hands.

Good, Slater thought. We might survive a couple more minutes.

One of the receptionists let out a soft whimper from under the desk Slater stood behind.

The guy in the skull mask led the procession, and now he stepped further into the reception and aimed his rifle at the glass barrier.

The skull had the same sinister voice behind the mask. ‘If you were just going to give up when we came in, why all this hassle?’

Slater said, ‘Didn’t want to make it too easy for you.’

‘This is easy enough.’

‘Are we going to make it out of here alive?’

‘Come on out from behind that glass and find out.’

‘Not yet.’

The skull hovered ominously, the man behind it staring at Slater from behind his carbine’s sight. Then he chuckled, a strange sound when imminent death hung in the air. ‘Oh. I see. You’re waiting for your buddy to show up. That King motherfucker. Yes?’

Slater shrugged.

Diagonally behind him, a sound ripped through the back corridor.

The rear door of the consulate, blasting off its hinges.

Then heavy, rapid footsteps in the hallway.

Too far away.

‘You think that might be him?’ the skull asked. ‘Coming to save you? Embedded in the rear unit?’

Slater shrugged again.

The skull turned to the clown. ‘What do you think, Tye?’

Tye — the clown — said, ‘There’s a chance, isn’t there?’

His voice was muffled behind the balaclava.

The skull moved as its wearer beelined across reception. Striding hard. He’d make it past the glass barrier before the rear hit team reached them. Slater saw the man’s finger slide inside his trigger guard, almost in slow motion.

He thought about diving for the gun he’d dropped.

He hadn’t anticipated the guy