The Unseen Read Online Free PDF Page B

want to go for it, selection. If you do that, you’re on a grand a day.” As he hoped, beyond Parliament and Victoria Tower Gardens, away from shops and offices, pedestrians gradually thinned to none. To their left lay the black swathe of the Thames and the far embankment.

    “A thousand a day?” Once more she stopped, the dog also. “If you’re fucking with me, I really know how to embarrass a bloke in public.”

    Mark looked back at her and tried to decide. They were alone here, the pavement deserted, but if he gave her a good kicking, it might draw attention from passing cars. Better to get her to the flat, stay with mission schedule. The owners were holidaying for two weeks. He could gag her, enjoy her for days before she died. He smiled, hoping to convey reassurance. “That’s what I’m on. It takes time to get there, but serious money can be made once you complete training. You start off as a watcher then end in T Branch, counter-terrorism, or maybe K Branch, serious crime and espionage.”

    When she caught up he crossed the bottom of Lambeth Bridge. He loved this spot, this place so close to MI5. “There it is.” He pointed to Thames House, keeping on the opposite side of the road as they walked the tree-lined embankment. He felt certain of re-establishing communications here. He always managed communication outside MI5.
     
    “OK, gimme,” she said, holding out her hand, following along the stonewall dividing pavement from river.

    “When we get to the flat. That’s over Vauxhall Bridge in Kennington.” He passed the last of the trees and looked across the river, along the embankment on the opposite side, to MI6. He was waiting on a call from MI6, waiting for acknowledgement. He was the universal soldier, it did not matter what agency employed him.
     
    “You think I’m going to some flat, you’re out of your box.” She came behind, her voice rattling, irritating, seriously getting him annoyed.

    “OK.” He turned to her and produced the second half of the twenty-pound note. “Here. If you do the interview you get another fifty and the bonus I promised.”

    “You’re having me on, ain’t ya? What’s your game?”

    He hated her. He wanted no more questions. She was a hostile, he wanted her obedience, he wanted her to understand discipline, the rigors of combat, of interrogation and pain. He had suffered, she must suffer. The beatings, the humiliation. He wanted her in pain. “Come to the flat and find out, you get fifty for the test. That’s seventy quid, plus what you got already.” He tried to smile but the pressure inside his head left no strength for animation. She was before him, hand out, begging, offering her stinking body.

    “You ain’t got seventy quid, have you? You’re all mouth. You were never in the SAS. MI5, my tits. You’re a dickhead.”

    The void dissolved as the Colonel spoke with clear and precise orders. “Immediate action, eliminate hostile.”

    He was surprised at her lightness. Clutched by the chest and crotch, she went up like a beanpole, her rattling voice turning to a scream as she sailed over the embankment wall. It took seconds. He was unable to see her fall all the way. The cessation of her shriek came when she entered the dark water of the Thames below, then silence. The dog started yapping, nipping sharp bites to his ankles until he scooped its twisting body and hurled it out over the river. Then he had total silence.

    “Hostiles down,” he repeated loudly to the Colonel, watching a car which had stopped by the kerb.

    “You bastard.” The passenger door began to open. A fat woman stared at him. “You threw a dog over that wall. I saw you.”

    “She annoyed me. You going to do something?” He moved towards her. The woman shouted and slammed the door as the car moved off.

    Mark sucked on a forefinger where the dog’s teeth had bitten. Smart-arse bitch, who cares about a couple of dogs? He ran to the wall, hoisting himself to look over.