Hunter Hunted by Jack Gatland (best value ebook reader .TXT) 📗

to a new location in London to take photos. They weren’t for his personal collections and they weren’t for the newspapers, but they were a solid if small additional income for him. Nasir took dozens of photos of places, of people, people in places, it didn’t matter. Twenty, thirty in a go and then, in the afternoon he’d edit them, pick the best five or six and upload them to stock footage sites. There was good money in those these days. More so than working as a photographer for a newspaper.

He hadn’t been to work today, but still he spent his lunch in One New Change, a small but affluent shopping centre to the east of St Pauls Cathedral; and from his perch on the first-floor balcony he could see the people entering and exiting; a mixture of tourists and city workers on their lunch.

People with money.

He snapped a few images, looking around for something new to shoot. He tried not to take closeups of people as they always had to sign image waivers, and likeness rights were an absolute pain. He liked to find alternative ways to take the images, ones that showed the people while not showing the people. He’d done the same yesterday when he’d taken some artistic shots of Brompton Cemetery. He expected some good paydays from those. People always used cemeteries in their blogs and articles.

Looking through the viewfinder rather than staring at the screen on the back of his Canon, he stopped, zooming in as he focused on the entrance of the shopping centre. Two men in bomber jackets were entering, looking around for someone. Nasir snapped off a couple more shots and then turned to leave, only to find Declan standing in front of him.

‘How—‘ Nasir started, but Declan grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to a side pillar.

‘People are after you,’ Declan explained. ‘They had your location written down. Lucky for you, I got here first.’ He looked over the balcony, down at the men who now stood on the escalators, moving up to their floor. ‘Just about, anyway. Come on.’

Moving quickly, Declan and Nasir made their way through the lunchtime crowds, stepping onto the escalators to the upper floor.

‘What’s the rush?’ Nasir asked. Declan looked to him, surprised.

‘You didn’t hear about Kendis?’ he asked in surprise.

‘I’ve been off the grid,’ Nasir explained. ‘I haven’t heard anything.’

‘They murdered her.’ Declan pulled Nasir into a shop entranceway as he watched the escalator.

‘Oh.’ Nasir seemed either stunned or nonplussed by this. Declan looked at him for a moment.

‘You knew,’ he hissed.

‘I didn’t—‘ Nasir started to protest, but Declan rammed him against the door window.

‘I used to work for the Military Police,’ he explained, pulling out his warrant card and waving it to a concerned shop assistant through the window. ‘I hunted down and interrogated a lot of suspects. Over the years, I got a kind of sixth sense for liars.’

‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Nasir cried out.

‘You were a friend of Kendis, but when I said she was dead, you didn’t react.’

‘Shock!’

‘Also, you didn’t ask how she died,’ Declan continued. ‘People can’t help themselves, especially with people they knew. They have this morbid curiosity. Unless they’ve seen the news, and they know the story.’

He paused.

‘The message said take out. But they weren’t killing you, were they? They were extracting you.’ His forearm resting against Nasir’s throat pushed harder.

‘How long have you worked for Rattlestone?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Nasir pleaded. ‘I was brought in by Kendis!’

‘Did you deliver the letter to her house?’ Declan asked. ‘The call to action sheet? Her neighbour seems to think so.’

Nasir just stared silently at Declan.

‘The photo of me at the entrance, the one that’s all over the Internet,’ Declan continued. ‘You took it, didn’t you?’

Nasir nodded.

‘What did Kendis do after meeting us?’ Declan hissed. ‘Did she find the source? Did she go to the cemetery again?’

Nasir was trembling now. ‘I have a family,’ he whispered.

‘I have a family!’ Declan snapped back.

‘You should have thought about that when you did what you did with her!’ Nasir almost shouted. Declan went to reply but forced himself to relax. He wanted nothing more than to punch Nasir’s face through the glass, but that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

‘Who’s the source?’

Nasir looked away, as if deciding whether to say. Declan pushed harder with his forearm.

‘Who’s the source?’

‘Some woman named Pearce,’ Nasir eventually replied.

‘Francine Pearce?’

‘Yeah,’ Nasir was now looking to the escalators. Following the gaze, Declan saw the two men now arrive on their floor.

‘She’s in prison,’ Declan replied.

‘No, she’s under house arrest until the trial—‘

Nasir didn’t finish the line as his head snapped back, a phut sound echoing around the balcony level, and a bullet smashing through his skull, dead centre of his forehead, killing him instantly. As he fell to the floor Declan looked back to the two men, one of which now held a pistol, the silencer now aiming at Declan.

Grabbing Nasir’s camera by the strap, Declan moved quickly, leaving the body and zig-zag running towards the man who, surprised to see his target come at him rather than run, fired blindly at him, the almost silent bullets missing Declan and scattering the shop window as he moved in close and swung the camera at his attacker, connecting hard with his head, sending him to the ground with the side of his head busted open from the impact.

The second man looked down in horror before reacting, pulling out a KABAR assault knife, but the momentary pause was enough for Declan and he pivoted, using the camera strap, wrapping it around the man’s wrist before he could use the blade and spinning around, twisting the strap, snapping the wrist in one quick motion, flipping the second attacker onto the floor.

By now the shopping centre was emptying as people ran for the main entrance, the screams echoing around the shops. With both men now down and Nasir dead, Declan stared at the remains of the camera now hanging from