A Hostile State by Adrian Magson (reading eggs books txt) 📗

dropping to the water. My instructor from years ago would have been proud of me.

As it hit the water with a healthy splash, I was rolling to give myself room to manoeuvre. I picked up the crossbow and waited.

A shout came immediately after the splash and three shots echoed close together, followed by footsteps pounding along the track from the direction of the bridge. I guessed it was whoever had been on the other end of the short conversation moments ago. He’d opened fire without having a sighted target, and was now coming to investigate. And that brought him across a clearing right in front of me.

I couldn’t see where the boss man had got to but I couldn’t wait; I had to take advantage of the situation while it presented itself.

It was time to mess with their heads.

As the second man stared down into the water and saw no sign of me, he must have realized he’d been set up. He spun round, his mouth open and dragging the assault rifle up to open fire again. I breathed out and pressed the trigger.

There was very little recoil and hardly a sound from the elastic firing mechanism, and the bolt snapped across the yards separating us. I only saw it again when it hit him, spinning him around. He dropped the rifle and screamed, clutching at the shaft protruding from high in his shoulder.

A shout came from nearby and more footsteps crashed through the undergrowth between the trees. The voice had sounded like the boss man. I couldn’t count on being lucky twice in one go, and if the man I’d shot was able to communicate with his colleague, they’d have a reasonably good idea where I was hiding if I stayed here.

I slid back out of my makeshift hide, leaving the crossbow which was too awkward to drag through the vegetation if I had to go to ground in a hurry.

For now, though, I’d sown a seed of doubt in their minds and taken out one of their team. Nobody with a crossbow bolt in their shoulder is going to be able to do much in the way of fighting. And when the others saw it they’d be inhuman if they didn’t freak out just a little.

Two to go.

I followed the line of the river, moving away from the men and the bridge towards the edge of the marsh. I intended circling around and coming up behind them from the direction I’d used coming into the area. I was also keeping my eyes open for traces of the third man, who’d shown no signs of appearing yet. As I kept the water to my right I was also checking the ground in front of me in case the ammo dump was more extensive than I’d thought, and thought how odd it was that I hadn’t considered the boat on my earlier recce.

A boat? I stopped dead.

The only boat I’d seen then had been upside down and lying in a pond, rotten beyond use. Yet here was a dinghy in good condition, sitting by the bank of the river, a mooring rope hanging in the water and two paddles on the bottom. And two backpacks.

Next thing I heard was the click of a gun being cocked.

FORTY-FOUR

David Andrews appeared in the outer office and Callahan beckoned him straight in. He was due at another meeting upstairs but if he had any really hot news he might be able to call it off on the grounds of a greater priority.

He pointed to a chair. ‘You’ve got three minutes. Make it worthwhile.’

Andrews sat and said, ‘We might need more time than that. Ledhoffen did what you expected: she walked into Lindsay’s room, lifted the bait and left. I couldn’t track her phone but I’m guessing you’ll know pretty soon if it worked or not.’

Callahan nodded just as his phone buzzed. He said, ‘Wait one,’ and snatched it up.

It was Portman.

He listened for a moment, then swore before putting the phone down. Portman had sounded almost relieved at the prospect of dealing with this latest threat. And there was nothing Callahan could do to help him.

‘Bad news?’ said Andrews.

‘Bad for someone.’ Callahan scowled and brought himself back on track. ‘How do you know Ledhoffen lifted the bait? The CCTV footage doesn’t show the inside of the office. Couldn’t someone else have gone in there?’

‘I covered that.’

Callahan had a sudden sense of alarm. ‘How?’

‘I figured we’d need some close-up action inside the room. That way we’d know for sure.’

‘Close-up? How close?’

‘I placed a small camera in a bookcase. It only covers the last twenty-four hours but it was enough—’

Callahan nearly choked. ‘You did what?’ Christ, there would be a riot if anyone upstairs learned of this. They’d have his and Andrews’ heads on a spike … or whatever the current indignity was likely to be. ‘And how did you get in there?’

Andrews looked mildly alarmed. ‘I remember the keypad code from a while back. I know that was pushing it but I think you’ll be pleased I did.’ He placed his tablet on the desk before Callahan could say anything and pressed a button.

The screen showed Carly Ledhoffen entering Lindsay’s room and moving towards the camera. She glanced at the desk before bending to pull the slip of paper Callahan had placed there towards her. Then she scribbled something on one of the bulletins and dumped the rest.

There it was, thought Callahan, ignoring for a moment that he and Andrews had stepped way over the line of what was permissible or acceptable in this building unless officially authorized. All the proof he needed. But could he tie it together?

He watched the screen as Ledhoffen left the room. Then something caught his attention.

‘Show me the footage of her outside the room,’ he said, ‘before going in.’

Andrews did. Re-running the film when Callahan asked him and slowing it down.

‘She used the access code,’ he said softly. ‘Jesus. She used the fucking code!’

Andrews looked at him. ‘Doesn’t