Dead Men's Harvest Read Online Free PDF Page A

finances available. We both share a mutual hatred of a certain individual. It was a done deal in my opinion.’ The prisoner lifted his cuffs. ‘ These I did not anticipate.’
    Giving his pursuers the slip by way of the off-road motorbike, he had made for a pre-arranged rendezvous. He’d expected to be picked up and shuttled eastward to this meeting, but he hadn’t thought that he’d be treated like an animal. There were ten armed men in the party that had confronted him; they’d stripped him of his weapons and then cuffed him. He could have done for some of them at any time, but he wanted this meeting more than he desired to satiate his blood lust. That would come soon enough.
    ‘You’re a very dangerous man. I need reassurances before freeing you. After all, you murdered the guard I paid to help get you out.’
    ‘I had to make my escape look genuine.’ The prisoner smiled at his own cunning. ‘We don’t want the authorities realising that I had outside help. The guard would’ve squealed like a pig the first time he was interrogated. That would’ve caused us problems, would it not?’
    ‘You have a point.’ The host steepled his fingers as he studied the prisoner. ‘All of this would’ve been pointless if I’d been implicated in your escape – or what you do next.’
    The prisoner shrugged. ‘So you agree that the guard’s death was necessary?’
    ‘As long as he’s the last of my people you harm.’
    The prisoner didn’t reply. The maître d’ placed a bowl of soup in front of him, unaware of how close he was to a man who could deal death whether his hands were chained or not.
    ‘Am I expected to eat with these cuffs on?’
    The host and his henchman exchanged glances.
    The prisoner said, ‘Five-star food with plastic silverware? Maybe you’re afraid I’ll assassinate you with an expertly thrown silver spoon?’ He chortled to himself, a whistling noise that made a bellows of his scarred throat. ‘Have you considered how dangerous a bowl of hot soup can be? Perhaps gazpacho should’ve been on the menu instead?’
    The host lifted his glass and sipped the heady wine. He didn’t immediately respond, savouring the prisoner’s humour as much as the rich claret. Placing down the glass, he turned to his henchman. ‘You can release him, Getz.’
    Getz stood up slowly. He picked up his handgun. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea, sir.’
    The host turned to the prisoner. ‘Like I said, I need reassurances. How can I be sure I can trust you?’
    ‘You helped me escape. In return I swore that I’d help you.’
    ‘But is that enough? You’re an indiscriminate murderer who has killed some of my employees before.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘What’s to stop you doing so again?’
    ‘Things were different then. Your men were going to take away someone very important to me. I had no option but stop them.’
    ‘But you lost him anyway.’
    ‘I did, and before I was through with him.’ Emotion played across the prisoner’s face. ‘But now you’re offering me the chance to finish what I started. I’m indebted to you.’ He arched an eyebrow, waited. Finally, the host nodded to Getz, and the henchman slowly made his way round the table. The prisoner held up his wrists.
    ‘This man you seek . . . he is poised to bring me down.’ The host used his glass to indicate the room, the house, his empire. ‘He’s about to give federal evidence in a trial that could take all of this away from me, quite probably my liberty, too. I don’t want that to happen.’
    ‘Release me, give me the resources we agreed and I’ll guarantee he isn’t around for the trial.’
    Getz had arrived at the prisoner’s side. From a pocket of his jacket he took out a key, but still he wavered. ‘Are you positive about this, sir?’
    ‘Yes, Getz. There’s benefit to us all if we work together on this.’
    Holding his semi-automatic close to the prisoner’s head, Getz began unlocking the cuffs. As he did, he