"Slash and burn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hilton Matt)

Chapter 1

'My sister may very well be dead.'

'Don't see how I can help you, then. I'm sorry.'

'But then again, she might not be.'

It was one of those surreal conversations that you find yourself striking up with a stranger, and wondering where the hell it was leading to. I'd been taking a cold Corona on the deck of the beach house I had rented on the Florida Gulf Coast to the east of Pensacola. The woman approached me along the curve of the beach. She was walking with the devil-may-care attitude of the tourists who often walked the beach, picking up shells or water-smoothed stones and marvelling at the glory of nature. I noticed her for two reasons. She was obviously beautiful: tall for a woman and willowy of frame. She had the slim hips and broad shoulders I associated with swimmers, but she walked with a ballerina's grace. She had short dark hair and equally dark eyes; kind of Paris chic, I thought. But what struck me most – and the second reason I noticed her – was the way she called out to me like I was an old friend.

'Joe Hunter?' she said, waving a hand. 'Is that you?'

I was unprepared for visitors. My hair was mussed, I was unshaven. Worse, I was stripped to the waist, dressed only in a pair of cut-off denim shorts that were frayed along the hem. My face, neck and forearms were tanned by Florida sunshine, but my upper body still had the pallor of one not long since in northern England. Since my arrival in the US I hadn't had too much spare time on my hands; none of it spent idling in the sun. My couple of minutes on the sundeck had been an attempt at balancing the deficit.

Putting down my bottle of beer, I wiped droplets from my chin. Before answering the woman, I discreetly surveyed the beach in each direction. My first thought was, Who is she? My second, more importantly, Who is with her? In my line of work, it was important that I know those kinds of things. Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss; a pretty woman calling my name could easily do the same to me.

But there were no enemies lurking.

She came towards me, her bare feet kicking up golden sand. I saw that a pair of sandals, slung from a loop of her shorts, bumped against a shapely thigh.

'You are Joe Hunter?' she asked, still ten paces out.

I looked around for my shirt, but made do with folding my forearms over my chest. My arms covered the unsightly scar next to my heart, but that was about all. Good job that I'd kept up a strict exercise regime; at least the rest of my body wasn't ugly too.

Her eyes alighted on the tattoo on my shoulder, and it was as if that one symbol confirmed my identity. Not so many people knew about the tattoo, even fewer people wore one like it. There was me and my best friend Rink. Half a dozen others who'd been in the same Special Forces team. Everyone else was dead.

'I feel at a disadvantage here,' I said. 'You seem to know who I am, but…'

'I'm Kate Piers,' she said, advancing to the deck and looking up at me. 'You knew my brother.'

Something in her features did ring a bell. Jake Piers was a tough, wiry son-of-a-bitch who came to our team from the Navy Seals. I was there with him when we took down a terrorist training camp in Libya, and carried him back from the raid across my shoulders after he was shredded by machine-gun fire. Jake died in my arms. He wouldn't have survived his wounds. He was shredded, his internal organs torn up. But I wasn't going to leave him behind. There was no way I was about to allow his corpse to be paraded on TV as a sign of victory for the terrorists. I carried him out of there even though it meant slowing down the extraction of my team.

'You're Jake's sister?' How could she be as pretty when Jake had been such a pug to look at?

' One of his sisters,' she corrected me. 'I have an older sister called Imogen.'

Wondering where all this was leading, I waved her up on to the deck and offered her a Corona.

She took the beer but declined a glass, drinking directly from the bottle. I watched a bead of amber liquid trace a line down her neck where it shivered momentarily before she wiped it away. She caught me looking and laughed.

'I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here?'

Leaning against the railing so that the sun was on my back, I ran a hand over my unkempt hair. 'Wasn't expecting visitors.'

Her eyes crinkled. She took in my beach house with a sweep of her arm. 'It's beautiful here. But lonely, I guess. Do you live out here all alone?'

'Only the last few days. That's why I'm surprised you found me.'

I was surprised. There were only two people who knew I had moved into the house, and neither of them was the type to give up my location without a fight. My buddy and business partner, Jared 'Rink' Rington, and Harvey Lucas, another friend out in Little Rock, Arkansas.

'You didn't get the voicemail messages Jared sent you?'

I thought about the mobile phone lying somewhere inside the house. I'd slung it aside my first night in my new home. I'd come here for some R and R: why would I want to be disturbed by phone calls? The battery would probably be dead by now.

'Rink sent you?' It was unlike him. Normally he would have paved the way first. But then I looked at Kate and decided that Rink would see what I saw. Not a threat; just a person in need of help.

'He's tied up with a case at the moment, but he said that you would be able to help. I've got a problem, Joe. But I knew who to come to. I remembered Jake talking about his friends from his unit. He said that he would trust you all with his life. Even when he died, it was his friends who brought him home. It's why I looked up Jared instead of going to the police.'

'And Rink sent you to find me, huh?'

'Said that he was a little busy, but you'd do as second best.'

I shook my head at that.

'What else did Rink tell you about me?'

'Nothing. I already knew from Jake that you were good at your job.'

'Jake told you what we did?'

'Not in as many words. But I'm not stupid. I was only thirteen years old when he died, but even I guessed that he was more than just an average soldier. I knew that you were all part of some extra-special unit. It's because I know about your background that I came looking for you.'

'If you're looking for a mercenary, you've come to the wrong place,' I told her. 'I'm retired. Four and a half years.'

'Jared said you would help.'

'Depends what it is you want.'

'I want you to find my sister.'

'She's missing? You should have gone to the cops first.'

'My sister may be dead.' Kate bounced the bottle of beer in her palm.

Frowning, I put down my own bottle, turning away from her. 'Don't see how I can help you, then. I'm sorry.'

'But then again, she might not be.'

I turned around to look at her again, and she was staring up at me with her chin set with determination. She looked more and more like her brother – particularly when he grew pig-headed with stubbornness.

'I need someone to find out which it is,' she said. 'If Imogen is dead, then I have to know. The alternative is that she's being held against her will and needs help to get away.'

I owed Jake. It was his actions in saving us from the ambush that killed him. The only way I could repay his selflessness was to help his family now.

So much for rest and recuperation. I nodded at her.

'I'll get my things together. When do we start?'

'I've booked flights out of Tampa tomorrow. Can you be ready for then?'

I didn't have to look around to know that I already had everything necessary here. My SIG Sauer P228, with a half-dozen spare magazines of nine mm soft-nosed parabellums. A change of clothing. Fake air marshal documents that would get my gun past security. What more would I require?

'Where are we going?'

'Kentucky.'

Appalachia. I hadn't been there before. Mountains and valleys were just my thing. It would be picturesque this late in the year. I looked at Kate. The company wouldn't be bad either.

I asked her where she was staying and she said she'd booked a room at the Marriott. 'Unless there's somewhere else you can suggest?'

'It's handy for the airport. I'll meet you there in the morning.'

She placed the empty bottle on the deck.

'Thanks, Joe,' she said. Then she leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.