Ciphers, Matt Rogers [a court of thorns and roses ebook free TXT] 📗

afraid of while I was planning this whole ordeal?’

‘Us.’

‘So where would I go if I wanted to mirror the pair of you?’

‘Nowhere.’

‘Oh?’

‘You can’t mirror us,’ King said.

‘Oh, but I can. And I did.’

The elevator chimed, and an artificial ping echoed through the empty office floor, and a white “down” arrow lit up beside the doors. It was the first thing that made Slater realise some of the building’s mechanisms must be operating on a backup generator.

The doors whispered open.

A man stepped out.

Rather, he strolled out.

Lackadaisical, uncaring. Clad neck-to-toe in combat gear — bulletproof vest over a dark khaki shirt and olive green pants. Huge Gore-Tex boots. He was Caucasian, around six feet tall, with a military-style buzzcut and a thick pink scar under his left eye. The lights in the elevator illuminated him from behind, so it was hard to discern his features front-on, but King could have sworn he was chewing gum.

He had a 9mm Glock in his palm, and nothing else.

He took six big steps out of the elevator, practically striding, and came to a standstill with a cubicle on either side of his giant frame.

In a heavy scouser accent straight from the streets of Liverpool, he said, ‘Alright then, lads.’

Silence.

Neither King nor Slater were sure whether it was a question, or a demand.

‘That’s enough,’ the newcomer said, and his voice boomed like thunder. ‘Party’s over.’

He spoke with such utter confidence, and was so incredibly sure of himself, that King felt a faint urge to drop his weapon right there.

Instead, he pushed the barrel a little harder into Gavin’s skull, and the kid audibly yelped.

‘You hear that?’ King said. ‘That’s your paying client. How are you going to collect your fee if he’s dead?’

The man said, ‘That’s assuming there’s a fee, mate.’

‘You work for free?’

‘Who says I’m working for anyone?’

‘I am,’ King said. ‘Because I know your type. What were you?’

‘SAS, once upon a time.’

King stiffened. ‘That’s quite the fall from grace.’

The man shrugged. ‘Depends on your perspective. The way I see it, this is the purest form of organised violence there is.’

‘Working for anyone who pays the bills?’

The man smirked. ‘You take cheques from a government that doesn’t give a shit about you. You do their dirty work. You’re no better than me. Actually, you’re worse, because you pretend you’re righteous. I gave up on that performance a long time ago.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Walker.’

‘Walker, I’m—’

‘Jason King,’ Walker said. ‘Yeah. I know. Your friend’s Will Slater. You think I’m an idiot?’

‘No,’ King said. ‘I don’t think you are. How are we going to solve this little stalemate?’

‘You’re going to put your guns down.’

‘What if we don’t want to?’

‘That’s the only option you have.’

Slater opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, Walker said, ‘Did I ask for your fucking opinion, mate?’

Slater clammed up.

King said, ‘Are we going the Wild West route? First to the draw? I’m not sure you want to try that.’

‘Why?’ Walker said. ‘Because of your reaction speed? You think Black Force has a monopoly on that?’

‘Black Force doesn’t exist anymore. If you knew as much as you think you do, you’d know that.’

Walker cocked his head to one side. ‘I’ve been out of the loop for a spell. Quite right.’

‘And now you’re protecting the scum of the earth.’

Walker raised an eyebrow. ‘Who might that be?’

‘Whoever turned the lights out.’

Walker smirked again. ‘That’s the extent of your lecture? I killed eight cops with an M82 less than thirty minutes ago, for Christ’s sake. Tried to put one in your buddy’s head over there, but his reflexes are something special. I’ll give him that much.’

Slater said, ‘Is this what’s going to happen? We’re going to stand around talking all day?’

‘No,’ Walker said, suddenly cold and serious. ‘What’s going to happen is, I’m going to get fed up with this whole charade. I’ve got enough in a numbered account to live offshore for a while, which I’m going to need to do after this little disaster. So what I’m going to do is shoot that kid you’re holding between the eyes, because he made the timeless mistake of paying me before the job was over. And, if we’re being honest, I didn’t expect him to actually pull it off. Kid’s half-genius, half-dipshit. But I guess you need those qualities, huh?’

‘You want to stop this?’ King said. ‘Then do the right thing.’

Walker said, ‘The right thing…’

Silence.

He said, ‘Right and wrong don’t exist anymore, lads.’

The Glock came up.

King fired.

Slater lunged.

Walker fired.

The world went mad.

67

Slater had never been in a higher state of readiness, and it paid off.

The moment Walker stepped foot out of the elevator, he’d known where the conversation was headed. He’d read the ex-SAS mercenary like a book. There was little light, but in the semi-darkness he’d stared into Walker’s soul and seen a man not too dissimilar from Rick Whelan.

A razor-sharp, no-nonsense, get-shit-done enforcer who was only now beginning to realise that Gavin Whelan wasn’t as naive as everyone thought he was.

That was when it finally clicked for Slater.

All along, he’d labelled Gavin as a kid. An egotistical little brat with some good ideas and a whole lot of luck. But that was how Gavin disarmed everyone he came into contact with. There was a reputation that came with being a third-generation mobster. People underestimated him. It seemed Rick had gone along with Gavin’s grandiose vision just to humour the young man, as had Walker. They’d seen the dollar signs and listened to the spiel about recruiting hackers to drop malicious code into power substations across the East Coast and seize control of the grid. Maybe they’d half-believed it was possible, but not really.

And now the lights were out, and everything Gavin said had come true, and in the darkness their minds were free to run wild, conjuring up all sorts of apocalyptic visions of what might happen if New York stayed dark.

In the elevator Walker had decided that Gavin needed to die, and he himself needed to get as far