The Suppressor by Erik Carter (best free novels .txt) 📗

But now, at his first real-world encounter, he’d been quiet for some time. Just staring at Glover with Glover staring back, confused. Yes, it was a good idea to use the voice sparingly, to create dramatic pauses, to create a sense of fear and confusion.

But this was just getting awkward…

What the hell was he doing?

Gun still aimed at Glover, Suppressor reached into his pocket.

The notebook.

The nasty, bloodstained, water-warped notebook.

Oh, for shit’s sake.

“Don’t use that stupid notebook, dummy,” she muttered. “Use that growly monster voice of yours.”

Still, she was impressed with how quickly Suppressor had taken action. He must have written a note for Glover in the few moments before he approached the Acura. This showed a modicum of resourcefulness.

She’d taught him to adapt to the needs of a situation.

A tiny smile tempted her lips, but she rejected it.

Don’t go getting proud of yourself, Nakiri.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Silence looked down, for a split second, to his PenPal notebook, the note he’d prepared for Glover.

In that fraction of a moment, there was movement—a streak from the driver’s seat—and Glover scrambled out of the car.

Silence considered blasting him right there, before Glover cleared the doorjamb, but he remembered what he’d been told—that he had to get information out of Glover before eliminating him.

Glover scrambled over the short, brick wall into the empty parking lot of the warehouse beyond. He sprinted, his squat, powerful legs propelling him forward. Silence had always thought Glover a brave man, if nothing more.

Now he was showing true cowardice.

Silence sprinted around the Acura’s hood, to the wall, over it, and into the parking lot behind Glover.

Black asphalt, clean and relatively new, with bright white stripes and yellow rubber parking blocks. The hard pavement pounded through the soles of his shoes. He would need to remember to wear thicker soles in the field.

Glover headed for the warehouse, but even though his legs were pumping like pistons in a straining engine, Silence’s long gait closed the gap rapidly.

Glover stole a glance over his shoulder. Sweat-sheened forehead. Panic in his eyes. His combed-back, blond hair had lost its style, flopping in this face.

The other man’s thudding footsteps were loud and clear in Silence’s ears as he drew nearer. A couple feet away. He reached out. His fingers tickled the edge of Glover’s gray dress shirt. He clenched, got a fistful of cloth.

And came to a sudden stop.

Silence’s shoes scraped to a halt, and with one solid tug he yanked Glover back.

Forward momentum brought Glover’s legs out from under him, still kicking. For a moment, Glover was horizontal, floating a couple feet above the blacktop.

And then he came crashing onto his back.

A wail wheezed from Glover’s mouth.

Then Silence was upon him, on his knees, pounding away at Glover’s face.

He hadn’t planned on immediately beating Glover, but there had been a quick flash across his mind, something that propelled him into immediate action. His mission and the need to complete his first Watcher’s assignment vanished from existence.

Glover’s fist smashing into C.C.’s jaw. He’d gotten the most time during the beating, the benefits of being Burton’s second-in-command.

Silence hurled his right fist.

Crack!

Glover’s mouth snapped shut, and when it reopened, his lips were bubbly red. Silence threw a left. Then a right. Glover’s head was a toy ball rolling back and forth on the blacktop.

He could destroy Glover’s face. It was already swelling, contused. He could destroy it like Glover had helped to destroy C.C.’s face, like he’d help to destroy Jake Rowe’s face.

But Silence had made a promise.

To the Watchers.

They’d given him a second chance at life.

He stopped.

Glover sputtered. Looked up at Silence. Bloodshot eyes.

“Who…” He coughed. A bloody bubble popped at the corner of his mouth. “Who are you?”

Silence didn’t reply.

“You’re here about Burton, aren’t you?”

Silence nodded. The note he’d prepared had demanded that Glover tell him what Burton was up to, but apparently he wouldn’t need the note.

Interesting.

Nakiri was really onto something about the whole intimidation thing. Evidently a man got really intimidated when you beat the shit out of him.

Silence would remember that.

“I’ll tell you … I’ll tell you everything. Okay?”

Silence nodded.

“Burton’s been printing passports for weeks. And he’s getting them to his buyer tonight. I don’t know the location. I swear I don’t. All I know is the time: eight o’clock. I don’t know the specific client either, just that the guy’s working with terrorist cells out of the Middle East.”

Terrorist cells…

Just hearing the words made Silence pull back, stunned. He knew Burton had large ambitions, but what Glover had just said could mean only one thing: Burton was helping terrorists get into the United States.

The implications were staggering, and—

A flash of movement from the ground.

Glover swept his leg, knocking Silence’s feet out from under him. Silence fell backward, hit the ground hard, on his back.

Silence cursed himself. During training, Nakiri had hounded him mercilessly about his tendency to leave himself open to leg sweeps.

Don’t forget your feet, dummy.

Yet here he was, moments into his first field experience, already on his back.

Shuffling sounds in front of him. Then footsteps, at a run.

Silence rolled to the side, looked across the parking lot. Glover was getting away, headed for the warehouse again.

Silence scrambled to his feet, bolted off.

Ahead, Glover threw open a dark red metal door and rushed into the warehouse. Through the now open doorway, Silence could see darkness, no lights on.

As he ran the last few feet, Silence pulled out his Beretta again, cleared the threshold, and entered.

Towering walls of pallet racks—loaded with boxes and crates and plastic-wrapped machinery—seemingly endless as they faded away into the darkness at the back of the building. Steel uprights stretched to a high ceiling. A path cut through the center of the space.

Countless places Glover could be, a million nooks and crannies from which he could jump out.

Silence thought back to Nakiri’s lessons on stealth. This was one of the skills he’d taken to most readily, which had come as a surprise to her—and to Silence himself—because of his size.

Though the rows of massive, round