Matt Hilton - Dead Men's Harvest

‘That was the info we had from the team we sent to Florida. Hunter wouldn’t have had a clue where we’d taken Rington. He’d have still been in the dark if you hadn’t slaughtered those CIA agents in the Adirondacks. My sources in law enforcement tell me the murders were immediately tied to you.’

‘Yes,’ Cain agreed. ‘I have a certain recognisable flair. It’s just a pity I missed Walter Conrad. Killing him would’ve compensated for the mess we now have to clean up.’

‘Conrad’s dead.’

‘No. Not Conrad. He gave me the slip and I killed another man instead.’ Cain tapped a hand to his jacket pocket. Hendrickson averted his gaze, having no wish to know what was in the madman’s possession. ‘Conrad must’ve come clean about my escape from Conchar. He must’ve been the one to tie my escape to you, and to send Hunter after you. Makes sense that Hunter should go after Petoskey first, does it not?’

‘I’d been hoping that Hunter would make a try for him, that’s why I dispatched a team to watch Sigmund’s back.’ Hendrickson shrugged. ‘I still believe the plan would’ve worked. Hunter would’ve given us Telfer once he witnessed Rington being tortured.’

Cain sniffed. ‘You obviously don’t understand Joe Hunter.’

‘He’s an ex-counterterrorism soldier. I know he’s good, but he’s still only one man.’

‘He’s better than that.’ Cain sat back in the seat, his head lolling on the headrest. His scarred throat punctuated his point. ‘You should’ve had him brought here for me to deal with. By making these ridiculous plans you’ve over-complicated things. You helped me to escape from prison so that when Telfer is killed it would look like the act of a vengeful murderer. You’d have been above suspicion. Now you’ve ensured the finger of blame is pointed directly at you. You’ve messed up, Hendrickson, and I’m concerned that you could mess things up again.’

Cain turned and held Hendrickson’s gaze. Hendrickson frowned. ‘Don’t threaten me, Cain. We’re partners, remember?’

‘I’m not threatening you… partner.’ Cain patted Hendrickson on his knee. ‘I’m taking charge of things.’

‘In what respect?’

‘In respect of the planning.’ Cain smiled. ‘We’re going to keep things simple. I’m going to kill Telfer. You are going to bring Hunter to me.’

‘I can’t promise that I’ll deliver him alive. Not after what he did to Sigmund.’

‘Hunter won’t let you kill him.’

‘The team took him easily enough last time,’ Hendrickson pointed out. ‘He’s only alive because Baron’s orders were to torture Telfer’s location out of him.’

‘If Baron is that good, how did Hunter and Rington escape? He was one man, unarmed, against a team of your best hired killers. It sounds like Hunter allowed himself to be taken in order to find Rington. I’m only surprised he stopped at Sigmund. Baron and the others are lucky to be alive.’

‘It sounds like you respect him.’

‘Respect?’ Cain tasted the word. ‘Yes, I do. He stopped me, didn’t he? What’s not to respect?’

‘He’s an asshole,’ Hendrickson snapped. ‘He killed Sigmund.’

‘Hunter was protecting his loved ones. How does that make him an asshole?’ Cain squeezed Hendrickson’s knee. ‘You, Mr Hendrickson, are merely protecting your liberty and wealth. Your selfishness and greed killed Sigmund. Who does that make the better man?’

Hendrickson snorted. He removed Cain’s hand from his knee. ‘I take it that you don’t respect me?’

‘No.’

‘But you’re still prepared to work with me?’

‘Yes.’

‘So who does that make the better man?’

Cain’s laughter sounded genuine.

‘Touche, Hendrickson.’

Hendrickson’s cellphone rang. By the look on his face he was pleased at the distraction.

‘Baron?’

Cain listened to the one-sided conversation.

‘You’re on your way here? Good. Have the bitch picked up,’ Hendrickson said. ‘Then have her brought here as well. And, Baron.. no mistakes this time.’

He snapped the phone shut. ‘We’re in business again,’ he told Cain.

Cain sucked in his bottom lip.

‘Turn the car around, Hendrickson.’

‘Why?’

‘I need the use of your jet.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘You’re over-complicating things again. Play your games if you must but I’m going to get Telfer. It’s just occurred to me how I can draw him out of hiding.’

‘How?’

‘Leave that to me.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘Do you have connections in England? I need to get into the country but in a way that bypasses security.’

‘We’ve been smuggling people and contraband in and out of the UK for years.’

‘In and out? That’s good.’ Cain touched the objects secreted in his pocket. ‘I might be bringing back another keepsake.’

If there was a way to turn back the clock, so that it was she and not Kate who’d died, Imogen would gladly have done so. Her younger sister had been shot by an assassin’s bullet intended for her. But her sister could never be brought back and Imogen didn’t want to die needlessly. The men threatening her life now had nothing to do with those who had been chasing her before, but they would be just as ruthless. Joe had warned her to run, and he wasn’t one for hysterics. If Joe said run, he meant it.

She bundled a few belongings into her car, locked up her house, and headed for Machias without a look back. Joe’s rented Audi was under a layer of snow a hand’s-breadth deep and it was an indicator of what the roads would be like between her home and the highway. It would be slow going, but that would prove the same for anyone coming after her.

Taking things at a steady pace, she followed the road off the promontory, watching for tracks in the virgin snow. Those made by the CIA car that had whisked Joe away had been obliterated by the blizzard that had blown unabated since they’d left. The slope was the most hazardous, but being from Maine, she was used to traversing a winter landscape and made the coast road without any drama. The ploughs had been through, but that must have been hours ago because the road was white and her tyres crunched through drifts where gaps in the forest had allowed the storm to dump all of its fury. There were shortcuts to the highway, but not in this weather. Her best bet was to follow the coast road all the way around the northern edge of Little Kennebec Bay and pick up the highway there for the short run into Machias. Joe had told her to go directly to the police. Machias had three different law enforcement offices, but she decided to present herself at the one on Valley View Road. Joe had been specific about that; it was just a pity he hadn’t been as clear when he’d said goodbye.

She was confused.

From the way that he’d left with the CIA agents she’d thought he wasn’t prepared to give their relationship the chance it deserved. Yet by ringing her he’d proven he did still care for her. He had called because she was in danger. He didn’t have to be in love with her to do that. But, then, he had said he’d come find her. Did he want to give their relationship another chance or finish with her for good? Kate was always going to be a weight on both their shoulders, but she wanted Joe to put Kate behind him and love her for herself.

The snowfall was growing heavier. No, the reason that her vision was becoming obscured was because tears had sprung into her eyes. She dashed them away with the sleeve of her coat, gritted her teeth, aimed for the highway, and only occasionally glanced at the revolver on the seat beside her.

Her brother Jake had been with Delta Force and later Arrowsake; Kate had been a NYPD officer, but, up until the incidents last year, Imogen had never been in a situation where firearms were necessary. She was a web designer and photographer. Christ, all she’d ever shot was pictures on a digital camera. However, following her kidnapping by Luke Rickard, Joe had taught her how to handle the revolver, having her shoot at paper targets he’d strung to the trees in her back yard. He’d told her to keep the gun handy at all times. On the seat beside her was about as handy as it could get.