Ryan Kaine: On the Run by Kerry J Donovan

Author:Kerry J Donovan [Donovan, Kerry J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Human Vertex Publications
Published: 2017-05-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Thursday 10th September - Rudy

Rudy Bernadotti paced his private comms room in front of a bank of six TV monitors. Excitement tingled through his body, his heart raced, and sweat prickled his scalp. The power he had over life and death, such a buzz.

Each screen showed a different black and white moving image of the carnage. Flames licked at what remained of Graham Valence’s home. The first screen showed the front of the house, which looked pretty well intact, apart from a few blown-out windows, but the back—shown on the other monitors—had been completely destroyed. It looked like a 3D rendition TV producers used on house renovations programmes to let the viewer know the internal structures. Only these pictures were the ‘before’ part. The destroyed part.

The heat of the explosion had been so intense, it melted the wrought iron railings of the garden fence separating the house from the disintegrated garage.

Rudy focused his attention on the sixth screen, the one linked to the leader of the clear-up team.

“Report in, Tango One. What do you see?”

“One body. Female. In the back field. From the description, it looks like the wife. Can’t confirm via facial recognition. There’s no face left. No idea what she’s doing outdoors this time of night. Want me to show you a close-up? Over.”

Rudy curled his upper lip. “Yes please and take plenty of pictures. The police and MI5 might want our lab boys to run a facial reconstruction.”

“Doubt that, sir. When I said there was no face left, I wasn’t kidding. Over.”

The on-screen picture pointed at the ground. Tango One’s military boots tramped through short grass, apparently up a steep hill, judging from the man’s increased breathing. From the top of the screen, a foot rolled into shot. This one wore a woman’s shoe minus its heel. The picture moved up a shapely body, clad in pale trousers and a loose top that flapped in the wind. Large breasts that didn’t lie flat, even in death, bare arms exposed to the weather, but would feel no cold. A silver and gold watch on the left wrist looked familiar.

A frisson of delight rippled up and down Rudy’s spine.

“Show me a close-up of the watch.”

The image zoomed in. The Rolex Oyster with the rose gold dial belonged to Gail Valence. He’s seen it often enough. He gave a little fist pump. Another problem solved. The woman had more than outlived her usefulness. No use for her now with hubby out of the picture.

“Okay, show me what’s left of the face.”

The image moved again, but what it showed didn’t look like any human head Rudy had ever seen.

“Such a waste. What’s that sticking out of her head?”

“Part of a house brick, sir. Have you seen enough? Over.”

“What’s wrong, Tango One? Don’t like seeing the result of your handiwork up close and personal?”

“Not really, sir. Not like this. Over.”

“Any sign of a second body?”

“No, sir. The area’s flattened. The house is too unstable to search, and there’s a ruddy great hole where the garage used to be.

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