To Kill Or Be Killed Read Online Free PDF

combat and firearms training is
essential it’s rare, sometimes unheard of for an operative of DIC
to need it. No it’s the observation, the fast mental processing,
the image and detail recall and the thinking skills that mark you
and all our DIC people as a force to be reckoned with.”
    “Brains not
brawn I know.”
    “Quite right,
though you appear to have an ample supply of both. I’m very pleased
David, very pleased to have you on our team.”
    “Thank you. I’m
delighted to have got on the team.”
    “Good. Well
we’ll wait for Magda with the tea. Whilst we do I’ll go through the
building layout, procedures and other useful information.”
    Fulton drew out
no papers, gave out no hand book and didn’t give David paper or
pencil. He reeled out a stream of information and David listened
and mentally stored it for immediate recall. Tea came half way
through and they both ignored it until Fulton was done. Finally
they both sipped their tea.
    “Any
questions?”
    “No that all
seems clear.”
    “Good. Then
finish that tea and give me a tour of the building.”
    “Give you a
tour?”
    “Little test of
our brain training eh?”
    “Right
sir.”
    “It’s not the
army David, you call me Jack.”
    “Sure
enough”
    They got
up.
    “Where do we
start?”
    “At the top
Jack, I’d like to see if you’ve put my luggage in the right room.
You did say room six didn’t you?”
    Jack
smiled.
    “Lead on David,
lead on.”
     
     

Chapter
14
    London
    Hampstead
    9 a.m.
    April 17th
     
    A golden haired
nine year old boy, with a freshly scrubbed face presented himself
at the door of what was a very austere dining room. He was followed
by a golden haired girl, half a foot shorter, with the neatest of
pigtails. They were both dressed in green uniforms. The boy was
dressed in a crisp white shirt and green and yellow striped tie,
green shorts and the girl was dressed in a green check cotton
dress; both were holding straw hats in front of them.
    A door chime
sounded down the hall and a slim yet motherly blonde woman appeared
flustered behind the children. Across a dining table strewn with
the remnants of breakfast a severe man in his early forties,
dressed in a black three piece suit, pale blue shirt and deep blue
tie, lowered a tabloid Times.
    The serious
face with heavy lidded eyes and thin lips creased into a warm
smile. Nigel Sternway removed his reading glasses.
    “Aha Summer
uniforms so it’s April already.”
    He beckoned the
children to him and kissed them. As they left the room, waving, a
tall thin man stopped and let them pass.
    “You’re early
Joe” Mrs Sternway frowned watching her children exit the room.
    She disliked
her husband’s employees coming to the house. Joe was Nigel’s number
two and drove him around. She disliked Joe. He was grey and pale.
He had x-ray eyes. He was tall and thin. He always wore a dark blue
suit and a light blue tie, and oddly, she had noticed, that he wore
brown boots, the walking kind. He was thin, but he had a wiry
quality. She felt him to be like snake, long and thin, with coiled,
poisonous potential within the thin frame. Della Sternway hated her
husband’s work.
    When Joe nodded
and offered a weak and ineffective smile she happily followed the
golden children, heading for the school run.
    “Morning Joe.”
Sternway’s smile for his children slipped suddenly from his
face.
    Joe closed the
dining room door.
    “Sir. The sub
dropped them this morning. They should be heading this way.”
    “Good. We’ll
see which one gets through then.” Sternway precisely folded his
reading glasses, encased them and slipped them into his jacket top
pocket.
    “If any DIC 's
record on malicious intruders is ten to nothing so far.”
    “See they do
have their uses. You sure this will work?”
    “It’s as good a
way as any. These men are the best and one should get through and
if they don’t we’ll know it can’t be done.”
    Sternway looked
at his watch.
    “Just before
nine, a