Identity X by Michelle Muckley

Author:Michelle Muckley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: Thriller
Publisher: Michelle Muckley
Published: 2013-09-24T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

AFTER A PERIOD OF IMMOBILITY and I just pissed myself disbelief, he looked back at the shore towards father and daughter as the boatman held out fresh clothes for her to wear. She dressed into a fresh clean polo neck sweater and readjusted her hair which had been disturbed in the process. After loading her handgun with a fresh magazine she stowed it back into its holster which sat just on the back of her hip. She loaded two bags into the boat with the help of her father and then walked back towards Ben who had sat himself down on the rear steps of the boathouse.

“Can I sit with you?” She pointed to the empty space on the step next to him as he looked up, yet continued to fiddle with the loose rocks that were resting at his feet. He shrugged his shoulders in a display of indifference, and she sat down, curling her knees up protectively in front of her chest. To Ben it seemed to function only to put another barrier between them. Whilst he flat out refused to look at her, as obstinate as a teenager, he could feel that she was watching his profile. She waited patiently and eventually held out a key, a key for the shackles, and it was this token that she needed to soften him up. He held out his hands and feet, and she removed his restraints. He rubbed his wrists, angrily at first, a protest at the injustice of it all, until eventually his muscles relaxed, his face smoother with a thanks for removing them smile, his eyes reflecting her own.

“My name is Catherine Mulligan. I was born in Cork, Ireland, and moved here when I was three years old for my father to work. He was an agent like me, but I grew up believing that he was an engineer building bridges all over the world. I was sixteen years old when I discovered the truth, and it broke my heart. I wrote a school assignment on paper which I had taken from his desk and he went crazy, telling me that I couldn’t use the paper that he kept in his drawers. He made me rewrite it there and then, and afterwards he put the original in water and I watched it disappear into nothing. That’s when I first realised there were things in our life that I didn’t understand, and that didn’t make sense.

“They sat me down afterwards, and my father explained what he really did for a living. At first I was angry that he had lied to me my whole life. Especially after what happened to my mother. But gradually, I decided I wanted to be like him.” Ben continued to wriggle his hands and feet about in a circular fashion, reigniting the flow of blood to his fingers and toes.

“So what? You enrolled in a school for assassins?”

“I joined a training programme, yes. You sign yourself over straight up. No going back. Only one way out.

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