Grendel's Curse by Alex Archer

Author:Alex Archer [Archer, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781460331781
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2014-05-01T05:00:00+00:00

19

The Creed woman was sitting in the hotel lounge drinking coffee with an old lady Tostig did not recognize. According to Thorssen, Creed was some kind of television personality, which increased the risk of her being known. In the world of cell phones and instant media it was a problem. He had to be aware, careful not to be caught in any celebrity snapshot souvenirs.

It would have been better to deal with her yesterday but there was no undoing the past.

Getting into her room again after he had disposed of the Serb had been child’s play. She hadn’t been in there. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. That had pushed him close to the edge.

He knew he was on the verge of doing something stupid when he snarled, stormed out of her room and raised his foot to kick down the door of the room opposite. As the rage threatened to consume him, he saw himself kicking down every door on this floor and the next and the next until he found her. He couldn’t do that.

She would be on her guard. That was going to make things more difficult.

His first problem was getting her alone—or at least luring her away from somewhere quite as public as this.

Tostig was patient. He could bide his time. Watch. Study her. Get to know her when she thought no one was watching. That was when you learned the truth about a target. The car was uncomfortably warm as the heat of the day started rising, but air-conditioning drained the battery while the engine wasn’t running. It was a compromise, invisibility for discomfort. He had only managed a few hours’ sleep the night before. He only needed a few hours. Like many in his line of work, he’d learned to adapt, to snatch rest whenever it was offered because there was no way of knowing how long it could be until he could next sleep. He didn’t take artificial stimulants. A man survived on his wits, on his skill and, if necessary, his fear. He did not survive on amphetamines.

Besides, the thought of his brain being interfered with, of his thoughts racing any faster than they already did, was an entirely different kind of fear for the assassin. Chemicals altered the balance of the mind. There was no telling what demons they would liberate.

He needed distance.

Objectivity.

Making something personal increased the chance of making a mistake.

That meant keeping low profile for now.

His cell phone signaled he had a call. He checked the display. All it said was The Client.

“What?”

“Where is she? Right now?” Thorssen asked, his voice bright and excited.

“In the hotel lounge having coffee with an older woman.”

“Mortensen’s grieving mother.”

That made sense. Creed was a meddler. She couldn’t leave well enough alone. “Do they know each other?”

“It seems they do now. That leaves us with another loose end you will need to tie up before this is over, but there is a more pressing problem now.”

“A problem?”

“Yes. And you know how I hate problems.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“There’s a man who knows too much.

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