The King_A Black Force Thriller by Matt Rogers

Author:Matt Rogers [Rogers, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-06-19T22:00:00+00:00

16

King contemplated making a detour and stopping at one of the off-the-books weapon stations across Washington D.C. that all Black Force operatives had round-the-clock access to, but a moment of reasonable thought shut that down. If he knew Lars Crawford — and he thought he did — the man would keep quiet about what was unfolding with one of his most talented operatives. To all other members of the Black Force hierarchy, nothing would seem out of the ordinary until shit hit the fan.

They probably all thought he was still in Northern Mali.

Despite the turbulence associated with what was happening, King felt oddly calm as he guided the Hyundai down a desolate highway in the dead of night. He had a destination, and more importantly he had his oldest ally on his side. Trying to achieve anything without Lars’ co-operation would add the need to constantly check over his shoulder for threats. Now he could focus squarely on what lay in front of him.

Lars Crawford believed him, and that meant his tracks would be covered for as long as it was feasible.

So now there was the simple matter of a United States senator who wanted him as far from the country as possible for a two-day window.

Why?

‘Time to find out,’ King muttered to himself.

In truth, he didn’t need to arm himself with an arsenal. The Glock 17 in his hip holster and the three spare magazines in the duffel bag would more than suffice. King had never been one to turn to recklessness in the heat of combat. He chose his shots well, and he couldn’t conceive any scenario where he’d fire four whole clips dry. It had only taken a single magazine to run through the eight-man unit in Northern Mali.

And this was a gated community.

In truth, he didn’t even think he’d need a gun.

He let the GPS take him to within a mile of the private neighbourhood and pulled into a gap between two giant maple trees lining a wide avenue. It was approaching four in the morning, and the whole world was asleep. King hadn’t slept a wink, yet he’d never felt more alive. The truth was he’d been horrifically anxious to bring Lars back to his side.

The mere thought of his handler turning bad had filled him with dread.

Corrupt politicians — he could handle that.

He couldn’t handle his only connection with Black Force sparking out. It would leave him aimless, adrift in a hostile world, cut off from the only thing he’d ever known for the last five years.

But all was well within the ranks.

So he killed the Hyundai’s engine and slipped out of the darkened interior with renewed vigour, slotting the three spare magazines into the open pouches across the front of his belt. He left the hiking pack in the car — there was no incriminating evidence in the bag. Just a few pairs of filthy clothes stiff with dried sweat, used in his trek across Northern Mali. It seemed surreal that he’d been

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