The Alex King Series by A P BATEMAN

Author:A P BATEMAN [BATEMAN, A P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rockhopper Publishing
Published: 2019-09-25T22:00:00+00:00

44

South Africa

Rashid wrapped his fingers around the chunky butt of the Sig Sauer P225 9mm pistol. He had already checked that the magazine was full, and the first round had been chambered. Safety off, finger resting on the frame, hammer cocked. He preferred to cock the hammer – the weapon’s double-action trigger pull was off-putting and never made for the most accurate first shot.

The plan had been hastily cobbled together. Marnie was an analyst and computer technician. She would stay in the car and had no aspirations to do anything different. It had been over twenty-four hours and she was still seething towards Rashid for suggesting she come to South Africa with them, even more so each time he gave her a cheeky wink.

Not a trained or experienced field agent, but flexible and willing to give most things a go, Neil Ramsay had slipped around the house and positioned himself at the back door. He had simply shrugged when Rashid had told him what to do, replying that he had been a useful Rugby fly-half at school and university and could throw himself around the legs of any man who ran from him, and wasn’t scared to either.

That left Beard and Rashid to go in the front. Rashid would hang back, let Beard do the talking. He was an experienced hand on the continent and had been in South Africa a few years. He looked at ease, and although the tan was not a factor with Rashid, he didn’t have the most welcoming of appearances. Something that had helped him blend into his infiltration with ISIS, but not somebody you’d want to turn up on your doorstep. For that reason, he would hang back out of sight. They had decided against a hard entrance. If Botha was a man who had sold secrets and sacrificed one of his colleagues, then the chances are he would take his own well-being seriously enough to have security in place. That may simply be a heavy series of door locks, or a loaded shotgun in the hallway. Botha was unmarried and had no immediate family. A loaded gun close to hand was of no consequence to the safety of a child or family member. South Africa was a country dominated by violent crime, most houses would have a firearm of some description.

Ryan Beard hesitated at the front door, glanced at Rashid, who glared at him and signalled him with the muzzle of the pistol to get on with it. He knocked firmly and stood back a pace. There was no reply. He waited twenty-seconds, knocked again. A few seconds later there was a faint and muffled voice through the door.

“Who is it?”

“Police,” Beard said. He glanced at Rashid, who was staring at him blankly. Beard shrugged. It had been agreed to simply ask for assistance using Botha’s phone to call a tow-truck, in lieu of his dead mobile phone battery. He’d gone off-piste, had little choice but to go with it. “There was an

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