The Export by J.K. Kelly (read along books txt) 📕

was face down on the floor, Matt’s knee driving deep into the back of his neck, with both of the man’s arms bent in an excruciating way meant to inflict pain and solicit answers. Allan could barely breathe.

“What did you do to Charlie? Where is he?” Matt demanded. “Tell me now, and this will end quickly!”

Allan remained silent. Matt went to Plan B. He rolled the man over and punched him in the face as hard as he could.

“Where is he?” Matt asked, raising his fist again. “They have your lies on tape, you stupid bastard. You’re busted, so tell us what you did with him, and they might go easy on you.”

Allan gasped and blinked away the blood, looking around as if to clear the fog from his head. His nose was broken and bleeding badly, and his left eye had already swollen shut.

“We dumped him out where they were pouring the concrete footings last night. He’s part of the new wharf now, the stupid bastard.”

“And Melville, he was with you?” Allan didn’t answer. Matt tightened his fist and prepared to use it again.

“Yes, he gets off on choking girls. He went to work on Charlie and strangled him to death.”

That was it. Matt’s heart broke. His worst fears had been realized. His friend was dead, killed in a frightening manner, and gone forever. He relaxed his hold on Allan, but his rage came flowing back.

“Hey, shithead,” Matt said to the mess lying there, “I lied.” He then leaned in close to the man’s ear and whispered, “Charlie Chaste sends his regards!”

With one hit, perhaps the hardest one he had ever thrown, Matt ended the murderer’s life right there on the floor. He knelt there, shaking from the surge of adrenaline, needing to process all that had happened, and then slowly stood up. The grief was overwhelming.

When a buzzer sounded announcing the opening of the door, Matt looked around to hear the lock release and see Erickson coming back into the room.

“Justifiable homicide if I ever saw one,” he said and then paused. “Poor Charlie would have thought it brilliant. Rest in peace, old boy.” Matt bowed his head and repeated the words. The two men took a moment to think about their friend.

“You were right about Roberts. He had been playing both sides and had given Bruce and Melville a heads up when Charlie worked late last night. Melville turned off the CCTV for the area before he followed Charlie out. I’ve left the lad in very capable hands.” They both stood for a moment and stared at the body on the floor.

“Leave this to me,” he continued. “We’ll have this taken out with tonight’s trash. I do have one last question for you, though.”

Matt was spent, but he was also curious.

“Do you want Melville, or should we send someone else to handle it?”

“He chokes women and put his hands on my friend?” Matt responded. “He’s mine. Just let me know where he is, and I’ll take it from there.” An hour later, Erickson walked Matt to the security room and helped him retrieve his guns and knife and then handed him his business card.

“Give me a call when it’s over. We’ll have a team close behind you to clean up whatever you leave behind. Then, whether it’s tonight or months from now, I’d like to sit down with you and throw back a few in Charlie’s honor.”

Matt didn’t respond. He simply nodded and walked out of MI5. He paused for a moment and considered walking around to the Thames side of the building. His friend was now a part of MI5, possibly forever, and Matt wanted to say goodbye. Instead, he kept moving forward. His driver was still waiting for him, idling in the parking area just down the road at a petrol station. He had one last job to do tonight, and then his work in the UK would be done. On the way to his next stop, he called Dale on his secure phone and filled her in on what had just happened.

“Charlie’s gone,” he told her. “I plan on flying back tomorrow. He’s already been laid to rest.”

While the driver headed toward the address he was given, Matt inspected his two handguns. They had been out of his control for hours. He needed to be sure they hadn’t been tampered with and were ready for whatever came next.

He was still bent on revenge, and Melville had no idea what was headed his way.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Happy hour at the Blue Ram Pub was in full swing when Matt snuck in through the emergency exit behind the bar. He had expected to find it propped open to let air into the packed place, and he was right.

Finding Melville without being seen first might be more difficult. Luckily, this was a bar that allowed smoking, and the cancer sticks were out in full force, creating a light fog. Beer and booze flowed, leaving most of the patrons in their own haze as well. When Matt found his prey, he knew this would be an early night.

Taking a seat on the other side of the room from the rough-looking former rugby player, Matt bought a diet soda, sat, and watched. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to snuff the life out of the animal. But the spinning wheel of death in his head hadn’t decided when and how quite yet. Matt was like a hungry lion stalking another predator.

As he had anticipated, after about 20 minutes of watching Melville knock back another pint of beer and a shot of who knows what, the choker of women and killer of friends got up and headed for the toilets. Having kept an eye on the other patrons, Matt knew the men’s room was empty except for his target, so he needed to act fast. The scent of urine and vomit made the grimy little loo an even more appetizing place