Killing Ground by Eric Meyer

Author:Eric Meyer [Meyer, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swordworks
Published: 2019-03-29T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

Waverley reached the outskirts of Damascus and breathed a sigh of relief. Inside the huge city, he knew he’d find what he needed to stay safe, and almost as important to keep his money safe. He already regarded it as his property. After all, hadn’t he gone through hell to try to deliver it to the Kurds? Well, almost. He sniggered to himself. That journey in the C-17 had been cold and uncomfortable, and he deserved some compensation.

He thought about the woman he’d killed in Washington. The stupid bitch, she was only on secondment to the State Department, and she should have listened to an experienced officer like himself. If they’d given him the post she occupied instead of her, it never would have happened. Still, he’d done everything right, and he’d got away from those two irritating SEALs. A pity about the girl, Rachel Dayan, but with the amount of money he had in that flight case, he could buy himself a hundred like her.

The hotel looked promising, close to the Presidential Palace, and he assumed the security would be enough to keep him safe. Although he had ideas to make certain those two thugs from the U.S. Navy didn’t get close, always assuming they’d survived, which in this hellhole of a country was by no means certain. He checked into the hotel and went up to his room. He counted out some petty cash, enough to keep him in funds for now, giggling to himself. Fifty thousand dollars was a tidy sum of petty cash. Then he carried the flight case back down to the lobby and watched while they placed it inside a safe that looked secure enough to store the nation’s gold reserves.

A word with the desk clerk, and he followed his directions to a nearby bar. What distinguished this place and from others was the number of soldiers sitting inside drinking. He ordered a cold beer and leaned with his back to the bar, sipping at his drink, and looking around. He spotted them almost immediately. Two Syrians, both with sergeant stripes on their sleeves, and they had that look. Perhaps it was something he recognized in himself, the look of men who will do most things for money. He walked over and spoke to them in Arabic.

“I’m looking for some men.”

They stared up at him. “Fuck off.”

“No, no, it’s not like that. I want to hire two bodyguards.”

“We’re busy.”

“The pay is five thousand dollars for each man. One week.”

They stared at each other, and back at him. The shorter man opened his mouth to speak, and Waverley noticed he was missing several teeth. “When do we start?”

“Now, if that’s convenient.”

“For five thousand dollars it’s convenient. You did say each?”

“That’s correct. I’m staying in nearby hotel, and I’ll book you a room next door to mine. Your job is to shadow me everywhere I go while I’m in Damascus, and then escort me while I travel across the border to Lebanon.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.

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