Read Online Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1) by Richard Harrington - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard Harrington
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the agony of the most beautiful orgasm.
Ted limped along, and when he was almost opposite Sally’s driveway, the door to the flats swung open and she stepped out with Lewis, and as they were saying their goodbyes, a car came cruising up the avenue and stopped right outside her house.
Slipping his hands into the false pockets of the overcoat, Ted watched as a young man got out of the car. He was tall, had earrings, and a blond crew cut.
Taking hold of Bertha, he slipped the safety catch to 'off ' , and now the blond only had to make one false move, and Bertha, with her stuttering rattle, would cut him in half.
Frank kissed Sally goodbye, but walking down the drive, stopped abruptly when he saw Ted standing across the road like a statue from a bad dream.
But why was he here? And why was he wearing that god-forsaken overcoat?
It could only mean the worst kind of trouble, but why? It hadn’t been long since they’d said goodbye in Sheverill’s lane, and everything had been okay then.
Shrugging the Bergen from his shoulder, he tossed it away and slipped his hand into the false pocket of the donkey jacket, and taking hold of the pistol, scanned over the field of fire, but all he could see was Ted, who for some crazy reason, seemed to be covering the mini-cab he’d ordered. And there was Rosemary, gardening as usual, and a milkman coming into view along the road, but there was nothing else to be seen.
The blond called up the drive, ‘Taxi for Mr Andrews.’
The young blond’s use of Frank’s working alias let Ted ease the pressure on the trigger, and taking his hands out of the false pockets, let them fall to his side, but Frank kept his hand on the pistol as Ted crossed over and walked up the drive.
‘Ted, what the hell’s going on, you scared the shit out of me.’
‘Sorry, old son, false alarm, but we need to talk.’
Sally watched the two men standing head to head in the drive, their mouths working fast, but Frank suddenly fell silent as he listened to every word Ted was saying.
‘Thanks Ted, I owe you one, but I’ve got to go now, so will you look after Sally?’
‘No problem, I’d like to see her anyway.’
The young blond stood in the early morning light and stared along the quiet avenues of Charlton Kings, and lighting a cigar, noticed his hand had the shake of fear.
He’d worked late into the evening and checked all the nearby hotels, pubs, guesthouses, corner shops and taxis, but all with no success, and then was forced to take an overpriced, grubby room in a local guesthouse.
It was beginning to look as if the Section man had given him the slip, and it was now unlikely he’d be able to locate him before he disappeared into the Executive Section’s anonymous hidey hole in GCHQ, and knowing what had happened to the sleeper in the Chiefs of Staffs office, that wasn’t the news he wanted to take back to his masters.
When the syndicate had woken the sleeper, she’d confirmed their worst nightmares, because the audit of files at the maximum security wing at Thornley Manor had revealed that a file had been violated, and due to the gravity of the situation, the Chiefs of Staff had granted sanction for Immediate Action with hard arrest, no mercy , but for the sleeper it was all over. She had become a danger and was soon eliminated.
Tossing the cigar into the gutter, the blond cursed in frustration, and looking through murderous eyes along the respectable avenues of Charlton Kings, glared at the Mercedes at the kerbside, lashed out and kicked-in the headlight.
So why didn’t that Section bastard obey orders like everyone else?
Flicking glass from his shoe, he checked the time and saw it was a little after eight, so all he had was one last chance with the local post and milkmen, but if he drew a blank with them he knew it would be all over for him.
He shuddered, knowing his own assassin would already have been briefed, and when he or she walked out of the shadows, he would pay the
Ted limped along, and when he was almost opposite Sally’s driveway, the door to the flats swung open and she stepped out with Lewis, and as they were saying their goodbyes, a car came cruising up the avenue and stopped right outside her house.
Slipping his hands into the false pockets of the overcoat, Ted watched as a young man got out of the car. He was tall, had earrings, and a blond crew cut.
Taking hold of Bertha, he slipped the safety catch to 'off ' , and now the blond only had to make one false move, and Bertha, with her stuttering rattle, would cut him in half.
Frank kissed Sally goodbye, but walking down the drive, stopped abruptly when he saw Ted standing across the road like a statue from a bad dream.
But why was he here? And why was he wearing that god-forsaken overcoat?
It could only mean the worst kind of trouble, but why? It hadn’t been long since they’d said goodbye in Sheverill’s lane, and everything had been okay then.
Shrugging the Bergen from his shoulder, he tossed it away and slipped his hand into the false pocket of the donkey jacket, and taking hold of the pistol, scanned over the field of fire, but all he could see was Ted, who for some crazy reason, seemed to be covering the mini-cab he’d ordered. And there was Rosemary, gardening as usual, and a milkman coming into view along the road, but there was nothing else to be seen.
The blond called up the drive, ‘Taxi for Mr Andrews.’
The young blond’s use of Frank’s working alias let Ted ease the pressure on the trigger, and taking his hands out of the false pockets, let them fall to his side, but Frank kept his hand on the pistol as Ted crossed over and walked up the drive.
‘Ted, what the hell’s going on, you scared the shit out of me.’
‘Sorry, old son, false alarm, but we need to talk.’
Sally watched the two men standing head to head in the drive, their mouths working fast, but Frank suddenly fell silent as he listened to every word Ted was saying.
‘Thanks Ted, I owe you one, but I’ve got to go now, so will you look after Sally?’
‘No problem, I’d like to see her anyway.’
The young blond stood in the early morning light and stared along the quiet avenues of Charlton Kings, and lighting a cigar, noticed his hand had the shake of fear.
He’d worked late into the evening and checked all the nearby hotels, pubs, guesthouses, corner shops and taxis, but all with no success, and then was forced to take an overpriced, grubby room in a local guesthouse.
It was beginning to look as if the Section man had given him the slip, and it was now unlikely he’d be able to locate him before he disappeared into the Executive Section’s anonymous hidey hole in GCHQ, and knowing what had happened to the sleeper in the Chiefs of Staffs office, that wasn’t the news he wanted to take back to his masters.
When the syndicate had woken the sleeper, she’d confirmed their worst nightmares, because the audit of files at the maximum security wing at Thornley Manor had revealed that a file had been violated, and due to the gravity of the situation, the Chiefs of Staff had granted sanction for Immediate Action with hard arrest, no mercy , but for the sleeper it was all over. She had become a danger and was soon eliminated.
Tossing the cigar into the gutter, the blond cursed in frustration, and looking through murderous eyes along the respectable avenues of Charlton Kings, glared at the Mercedes at the kerbside, lashed out and kicked-in the headlight.
So why didn’t that Section bastard obey orders like everyone else?
Flicking glass from his shoe, he checked the time and saw it was a little after eight, so all he had was one last chance with the local post and milkmen, but if he drew a blank with them he knew it would be all over for him.
He shuddered, knowing his own assassin would already have been briefed, and when he or she walked out of the shadows, he would pay the
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