Hunted: BookShots Read Online Free PDF Page B

bin, lifted out the cup and moved off in the opposite direction.
    He took a right onto White Lion Street, glanced to check he wasn’t being followed, then flicked open the lid of the cup. What he saw inside made him tut: a micro-earpiece, which he extracted from the plastic wrapping and fitted into his ear.
    ‘Hello? Shelley? Are you there?’ Claridge was saying.
    ‘What the bloody hell is this you’ve given me?’
    ‘It’s so we can talk.’
    ‘Christ, you can take the boy out of MI5, but you can’t take MI5 out of the boy.’
    ‘You don’t like it?’
    ‘No. I need to see you.’
    ‘You don’t need to see me.’
    ‘If I don’t see you, how will I know you don’t have a gun to your head? How do I know someone isn’t listening in? You’re MI5. I assume you know surveillance and evasion techniques. They still teach that, do they?’
    ‘Well, I’m a little rusty, but—’
    ‘Time to get un-rusty, Tin Man. In thirty seconds I’m stamping on this earpiece. Nine minutes and thirty seconds after that I’ll meet you behind Trinity Church. Make sure you’re not followed. Do it the old-school way.’
    Ten minutes later they sat together on a secluded bench at the rear of church. Claridge shifted in his seat, nervously peering into the foliage that surrounded them on three sides.
    ‘Have you made any progress?’ he asked.
    ‘I’ve identified the scout. A scumbag called Colin.’
    ‘Description? I’ll see what I can find out – discreetly.’
    ‘Forget him, he’s a single-celled organism. I’m more interested in his contact. No name yet, but it looks as though he conducts his business from the Ten Bells on Commercial Street. See if you can check CCTV footage. Look for a well-dressed guy in a tan leather jacket, my height and age, neat dark hair, jeans and good shoes. I’ll work on getting more, but I’ve got something else I need to do first; this guy Colin and the snappy dresser – I’m ninety per cent sure they have a mark in mind, a big-mouth ex-Paratrooper who usesthe shelter, name of Barron. They’ll have wanted to check Barron out. Could you find out who has accessed his records recently?’
    ‘Maybe. How old do you think he is?’
    ‘I’ve got about ten years on him.’
    Claridge drew breath sharply. ‘Well then, his records will be computerised, which makes accessing them a risk. I’d be logged, same as anyone else, and if there’s a flag on the file—’
    ‘Then don’t open it.’
    ‘Are you sure? This is good detective work. It might be worth taking the risk.’
    ‘No, it’s not. It’s supporting evidence for when this is all over. You have family, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then don’t open the file. Not until we’re done. Don’t come to the meet-spot again, either. Don’t try to contact me any other way.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘I’m going to take Barron’s place. I’m going to be the quarry.’
    Claridge gave a start. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ frowned Shelley. ‘And don’t pretend that wasn’t always the plan. How else was I going to penetrate this organisation in any meaningful way?’
    ‘I had hoped there might be more of a Trojan-horse aspect to it,’ said Claridge sadly.
    ‘Impress them as a potential security man, you mean? Hope they’re hiring, and then pray I pass whatever battery of security checks they have planned? Come on, you knew it had to go this way.’
    ‘It needed to be your decision. You’re putting yourself in grave danger.’
    ‘At least this way I get to manage the danger. I don’t have to worry whether they want to kill me. I know they want to kill me.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Claridge. There was a pause. ‘And we’re understood that the objective is to put a stop to this.’
    Shelley nodded. ‘Which probably means killing the guys who organise it.’
    ‘We need to tie up loose ends.’
    Shelley barked a cynical laugh. ‘Well, yeah, of course. That’ll be in everybody’s interests, won’t it?’
    ‘I