Hunter Hunted, Jack Gatland [good story books to read .txt] 📗
- Author: Jack Gatland
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‘I only met them face to face for the first time last night.’
‘Last night? As in when we had our drink? Is that why you chose The Horse and Guard?’ Declan exclaimed. ‘Christ, Kendis, was I nothing but backup for a story?’
‘No!’ Kendis replied defensively, crossing her arms as she did so. ‘I was going there already, and then you sent that text, saying you wanted a drink! I thought it’d be easier!’ Her voice softened. ‘And I knew Pete wasn’t around, too.’
There was a silence.
‘Did I see them?’ Declan asked. ‘The source?’
Kendis shook her head.
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘They were in a different part of the bar, and all we did was work out a code for meeting up in the future. Can we move on?’
‘It’s your story,’ Declan muttered.
Kendis nodded. ‘So, Donna had charity work that was important to her, and she knew that if any of this came out, she’d lose it all. She told me she was going to confront Baker about it, or at least check into this with his lackey.’
‘Will Harrison.’
‘Yeah. I told her not to, to wait instead, but she didn’t listen.’ Kendis sat down on the base of the stone cross, as if too weary to stand anymore.
‘A day or two later, the news came out that she’d committed suicide,’ she breathed, close to tears. ‘She confronted Baker and then she died.’
‘You don’t know that’s what happened.’
‘Don’t I?’ Kendis looked up. ‘I’m shooting in the dark, Dec. Donna could have helped me blow it all up, but she’s gone. The day after it was announced that she’d died, the source appeared, wanting vengeance for the death. Said there’s one voice behind Rattlestone, and hinted strongly that it was Baker. But this contradicted what Donna had said before she died.’
‘What did she say?’ Declan looked around the cemetery now, feeling as if he was being watched.
‘When she talked about Rattlestone, she’d told me that all she knew was that Baker had come in after it was created, and the genuine power was some unknown guy in the shadows who named it with a bombing and some scrabble letters.’
‘A bombing?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And what do you mean, Scrabble?’ Declan asked. Kendis shrugged.
‘That’s it,’ she said. ’Simply that half a day, a bomb and a pack of scrabble letters would give me the truth behind Rattlestone.’
Declan stood silently for a moment, staring silently at Kendis.
‘Anagrams,’ he said.
‘Of course it’s bloody anagrams,’ Kendis snapped. ‘I’m an award-winning journalist and investigative reporter. I don’t need the mighty detective brain of Declan Walsh to point out the bleeding obvious. Rattlestone’s not even a proper word.’
She stopped, rubbing at her temples.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Anagrams are good and all that, but when you don’t even know what you’re looking for, every word made could be the correct one.’
‘So we go through every word,’ Declan smiled.
And then, whipping around, he called out to a tree fifteen feet behind him.
‘You can come out now,’ he shouted.
Slowly, and a little nervously, a slim young Indian emerged from behind the tree. He wore a denim jacket and black jeans over a graphic design band tee shirt, and over his shoulder was a canvas camera bag.
‘Declan, wait,’ Kendis rose from the base. ‘He’s with me.’
‘He’s with you?’ Declan looked back. “How many others are at this secret meeting?’
The Indian man reluctantly walked over, nodding to Declan. ‘Wasn’t my idea, I promise you,’ he said, holding out a hand. ‘Nasir Gill. I work with Kendis. I’m a photographer.’
Declan shook Nasir’s hand. ‘Declan,’ he said. Nasir laughed.
‘Oh, I know who you are,’ he said. ‘If she’s not going on about you, I just have to watch the news. You’re either breaking up gangs, destroying politicians, or punching out priests.’
Declan couldn’t help it. He laughed at this.
‘I like him,’ he said to Kendis. ‘Now how about explaining why he’s been stalking me?’
‘I needed to make sure you were alone,’ Kendis admitted. ‘Nasir was part of the team that helped me with Donna. He’s been watching Rattlestone for months.’
‘That aside, why on earth would you think that I’d bring anyone with me?’ Declan replied. ‘You think I want people to know that I’m playing spies with you?’
‘We’re not playing anything,’ Kendis snapped.
Declan showed the baseball cap. ‘Really? Because so far, I’ve used a costume and a burner phone. If I don’t go home with some kind of a cool watch that fires lasers, I’m going to be massively pissed off.’
‘Insurance,’ Kendis replied. ‘I don’t need the police involved, Declan. You need to find out who’s attacking your own, anyway. But I’ve found out where the bodies are buried. I’ll gain some information tonight that’ll give me what I need to destroy Baker once and for all. Proof that he killed Donna, sold arms, sacrificed soldiers in the Balkans, everything. It won’t end Rattlestone, but it’ll be enough to ensure he’ll go to prison, and have no power in Whitehall again. But I have to do it by myself, and it’s helpful to know that if people move against me, someone like you is looking out for it.’
‘Don’t be an idiot!’ Declan hissed. ‘You can’t take on someone like Baker on your own! Let me help!’
‘You can’t,’ Kendis was sad now as she spoke. ‘They’re watching you. They already know your weak spots. Look at Monroe. You help me, they won’t hurt you. They’ll move higher. Maybe even get to you through Jess.’
Declan relaxed his grip. He knew Kendis was right.
‘But I’m police,’ he feebly protested. Kendis smiled.
‘And you will be, once I get this out there,’ she said. ‘Next week, if all goes well, it’ll go live. By then you’ll have what you need to take down Baker and the buggers behind Rattlestone.’
‘But what about this terrorist nonsense?’ Declan asked. Kendis shrugged.
‘Noise, nothing more than
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