The Increment Read Online Free PDF

the world, old fruit.'
Matt moved back in his chair. Sweat was starting to form on the back of his neck. He'd faced many different types of danger in his life, and most of them he could meet with equanimity. But he'd been born poor, and like many people who started with nothing, he feared going back to the gutter.
I've done my time there, and I don't want to repeat it.
'What do you want me to do?'
'Like I said, there's a job that needs doing. You're the right man for it.'
Matt stood up. He walked across to the window. The rain had moved in further from the coast, and was spitting against the bar. Penelope and Suzie had grabbed their wine bottle and rushed inside. The few customers at the Last Trumpet were huddling for shelter around the bar.
'I've been broke before, and survived,' said Matt. 'Money comes and goes. I've made it before, and can make it again. Doesn't matter how many times you block my account, you can't make me do something I don't want to.'
'You're not thinking straight, Matt.' Abbott nodded towards the window. 'It's not just about some money in an account. With just one phone call I can have you charged with murder. Oh, and that pretty little fiancee of yours. Gill. I reckon she must be an accessory to murder as well. At least.'
Matt stepped forward, the veins in his face bulging. 'I risked my life for my country on that job,' he said, his voice low, determined. 'I should have got a bloody medal. But I just wanted to be left alone to get on with the rest of my life.'
Abbott nodded, a smile creasing up his lips. 'Should have asked for the medal, old fruit,' he replied. 'Medals we can do. Glory and honour? That can all be arranged. We might even run up a statue if you ask nicely enough. But leaving people alone?' He shook his head. 'No, we can't do that.'
A fresh cigarette jabbed into his mouth, Abbott moved towards the open door. He pulled the collar of his linen jacket up around his neck to protect him from the rain, then looked back at Matt. 'So here's the deal. You be a good boy and do what we ask you to do. Then we'll unfreeze your accounts, and we'll make sure you get a pardon for any connection you might have had with any unpleasantness. Then again, you can turn me down. You're a free man, and I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. But your money will remain frozen, you'll be a penniless bankrupt, and you and Gill will be charged with murder.' He stepped out into the rain. 'Think it over, and let me know tomorrow.'
Matt turned round, sitting back down at the desk. Taking the mouse in his right hand, he clicked open his account again. Still zero. He clicked on to the other accounts. Zero.
It doesn't matter how many times you look at it. The number's always the same.
His fist smashed down on the side of the desk. The computer shuddered as the force of the blow ricocheted through the machine, and a pair of folders fell to the floor. He wanted to run after Abbott, and beat some respect back into him. Abbott talked tough, but his flesh looked weak and flabby: a few hard blows would level up the score.
Get a grip, Matt commanded himself. Sure, you could probably kill the jerk with a pair of well-placed bare-knuckle jabs just below the temple. He'd seen it done, and he'd have no qualms about taking Abbott down. But it would make no difference. One Abbott would be followed by another, then another. The Firm had an endless supply of them.
No. If I'm going to fight my way out of this comer, I have to do it with my mind, not just my knuckles.
He stood up, and walked out of the office. Somewhere near the bar he could hear Gill calling for him, but he ignored her. Kicking away his shoes, he took the shirt from his back. Dressed only in his shorts, he jumped down the small, rocky pathway that led down from the restaurant to the sea.
The rain was beating fast against the beach as Matt climbed down. He could feel the tepid water seeping into his skin. Maybe the storm will come down hard, and blow that bastard