A Good Day To Die Read Online Free PDF

out of the blue from the client saying I had to get out of the country, and fast. I asked him why, and he said he had information that the coppers investigating the murders were on to me. He didn't say how they'd got so close, but he was pretty convincing. Course I wasn't keen on upping sticks, but when he told me that he had a false passport and a ticket to the Philippines, and that someone would meet me there with ten grand to get me settled, I decided he had to be serious and that it was probably an idea to take him up on his offer. And that's it. The rest you know.'
    'And who was your client?'
    He gave me a look that bordered on the suspicious. 'Don't you know?'
    'I'm here on behalf of someone called Pope. He supplied us with the money to give to you.'
    'He's the one I did the job for. The client. Les Pope.'
    Les Pope, I had to admit, was a man with access to supremely good intelligence. A year ago, he'd been so many steps ahead of Richard Blacklip that he'd been able to lead me right to his hotel room.Now, he was far enough inside a major police investigation to tip off the prime suspect and get him out of the country.
    It was then that I made my decision. 'I'm going to be honest with you now, Slippery.'
    'Call me Billy, please.'
    'All right, Billy. The fact is, you're in a lot of trouble.'
    'What do you mean?'
    'Pope wants you dead, and he's hired me through a mutual acquaintance to make sure you get that way.' He started to shift in his seat and I had a feeling that he might try and go for me, so I kept talking, still staring at the road ahead. 'Now listen, I've got no intention of hurting you. Like I told you before, I'm out of that game now, and if we play this right, you can walk away in one piece and completely off the hook, and I can still get my money.'
    'How are you going to manage that?' he demanded, his eyes boring into the side of my face.
    'Because Pope doesn't just want you dead, he wants you to disappear off the face of the earth as well, which means we've got scope for faking your demise.'
    'He's going to want evidence that you've done the job, though.'
    'Of course he is. He's a criminal, so he's not going to trust me, but there's an easy way round that. He wants photographic evidence that you've beenkilled. If you look in the glove compartment, you'll see a Coke bottle filled with fresh rooster blood, which looks exactly like its human equivalent.'
    'Lovely.'
    'It pays to make the effort, Billy, as well you know. There's also a small jar of black paint that we'll use to mark the entry wounds of the bullets. All you have to do is lie on the ground, act dead while I pour the contents of these two bottles over your abdomen and do a bit of a paint job so it looks realistic, and then I'll stand back and take a couple of snapshots. They'll get sent back to Pope, he'll be happy with a job well done, I'll get paid, and that'll be that. You head down south and live quietly and anonymously, because with the British police and presumably Interpol after your blood for two murders, it's in your interests to lie as low as possible, and I'll never mention your name again.'
    'How do I know you ain't gonna kill me anyway?'
    I slowed down as a jeepney in front of me stopped to pick up passengers by the side of the road. 'If you're a shooter then you should know better than anybody that your best weapon is the art of surprise. I've just told you exactly what I've been hired to do. Now why would I bother saying anything if I still intended to kill you?'
    He thought about that one for a few seconds, then opened the glove compartment. Seeing the blood-filled Coke bottle and the paint, he shut itagain and lit another cigarette. At the same time, I overtook the stationary jeepney. 'That bastard,' he said, taking a drag. 'I knew I should never have trusted him. And the ten grand in the boot?'
    'Behave. It doesn't exist. Be thankful that you've still got your life. So, are you in agreement with my plan? It's a lot better thought