Breaking (Fall or Break #2) (14 page)

“What do your friends call you?” Conrad asked and added under his breath, “Apart from fucking wanker.”

“I don’t have any friends. Get in the damned car before I make you get in.”

Conrad kept walking.

“We’re seven miles from the nearest town. You won’t make it.”

“Why would you care?”

“I don’t want to have done all that massage for nothing. Get the fuck in.”

Conrad opened the rear door, put his bag inside and climbed in the front. Deefor jumped onto his lap, licked his face, then curled up.

“You didn’t rent that house, did you?” Conrad asked. “You broke in.”

“I left them more than enough money in compensation. I told you, using credit cards is dangerous. Whoever is after you knows I’m with you. They’ll be looking for use of my card too.”

“Maybe I asked the wrong question,” Conrad said. “
What
the fuck are you?”

“Why can’t you just accept what I told you?”

Conrad stared out of the window into the driving rain. There had been something and now there was nothing. What was the point in pushing? They were going nowhere. But questions tumbled in his head. Mostly about the gun.

After a few miles of silence, Archer pulled off into a public parking area next to a wood. He switched off the engine, flipped open one of the boxes in the center console, took out a pound coin and offered it to Conrad.

“What’s that for?”

“I’m employing you as my lawyer. I don’t want you to repeat what I say.”

Conrad put the coin in his pocket. “You can give me the other seven hundred and forty-nine pounds later. You have one hour.”

Archer took a deep breath and then didn’t say anything. Conrad’s heart pounded in an uncomfortable way. The silence continued and Archer’s pale face told him he was going to say something bad.

“I don’t think there’s much you can say that will shock me,” Conrad said. “I’m a lawyer, remember? Bit like a priest listening to confession except I’m supposed to come up with something more useful than telling you to fuck off and say a few Hail Marys.”

“Right.”

Conrad swallowed hard. “I won’t repeat what you tell me unless I’m legally required to do so, if you were involved in fraud or money laundering or I needed to speak out to prevent you or someone else committing a criminal act that might result in bodily harm.”

Archer laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound. “I get paid to kill people.”

What?
Conrad wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear, but it hadn’t been that.
Kill people? Oh Christ. That can’t be true.
His logical brain took a jump.
“Me?” he choked out.

Archer shook his head. “You’d already be dead. And I didn’t phrase that right.”

“Which bit?”

“I
used
to be paid to kill people. I’m no longer in the business.
Trying
not to be in the business, but there’s someone who won’t accept my decision and if that person isn’t lying to me, there’s another someone who wants me permanently out.”

“You mean permanently out as in dead?”

Archer nodded. He stared at him intently and Conrad guessed he was looking for signs of fear or disgust. He felt a little of both but he was good at hiding his feelings, at least in a semiprofessional context. His overriding emotions were ones of shock and curiosity.
Why did you do it? Who did you kill? How? When? Where? Fuck.
Conrad had been told gruesome stories by sadistic psychopaths that had chilled him to the bone, whinging excuses by pedophiles that sickened him, but this was Archer. This was a guy he’d…
oh fuck
.

“I’ve only shot men. No women. No children. Never in this country.” Archer’s tone was emotionless. “Men who deserved to die according to the information I was given. Drug runners. Arms dealers. Sex traffickers. Crooked businessmen. Corrupt politicians. I’ve never killed anyone other than the man I was paid to kill except in the last job when a stranger shot at me and I killed him.”

Conrad’s head whirled.
I’ve stepped into a movie.
“How many have you killed?”

A muscle twitched in Archer’s cheek. “Enough that I don’t want to count.”

Christ.
“Who do you work for?”

“I don’t know the identity of any client. I dealt with brokers over the Internet.”

“You think the clients were government agencies?”

“Yes. Sometimes. Probably.”

“Shit. Why did you do it?” he whispered.

Archer shrugged. “Because I’m good at it.”

“That’s not a fucking reason. I’m pretty sure there are other things you could be good at.”

“I never found them.”

“Then you didn’t look hard enough.” The lump in Conrad’s throat grew more and more uncomfortable. “Why are you running?”

“Because someone tried to kill me after I completed my last job. I don’t know who or why, only that they don’t appear to have given up.”

Conrad’s eyes widened. “You mean whoever came to the cottage was looking for you, not me? You got me to hide in that cave but they were after you?”

“Yes and no. They
were
looking for me but they knew I’d been in your cottage so you were a target too. I recognized one of them. They’re not looking now. They’re dead.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“I didn’t kill them. I’ve never fired the gun you saw. I suspect whoever’s after you found the men waiting and they did it.”

“They killed them in the cottage?”

“Yes. Maybe they thought they were your bodyguards.”

Conrad dragged his fingers through his hair then put his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry I’ve involved you,” Archer said quietly. “You should have let me drown.”

Conrad lifted his head and glared. “Had I known, I would have.” Then he saw the bleak look in Archer’s eyes and regretted saying that. “You know that’s not true.”

“This is the first time I’ve told anyone what I do,” Archer said. “Not exactly something I can slip into conversation. I make my living killing people.
Made
my living.”

“How the hell did you get into it?”

Archer sighed.

“You might as well tell me everything. We’re in this together now.”

“I was a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company. They arranged a day at a shooting club near London for their employees. I’d never fired a weapon before and I ended up winning every event. Pissed off my boss who thought he’d be the best shot. I’d never been good at anything my entire life.” He gave a wry smile. “The club wanted me to join. They even said they’d waive the membership fee. They were talking British Championships, Olympics. When I spotted my boss looking as though he wanted to strangle me, I said no.

“About a week later there was a knock on the door of my bedsit. A man who’d seen me at the club wanted to know if I was interested in testing the guns his company manufactured. Hell yes. I gave up a job I hated to become a freelance rifle and small arms specialist. In my off-time, of which there was a lot, I learned everything I could about guns and ballistics. I already spoke Russian but I picked up the basics of a few other languages, and did work for weapons’ manufacturers all over Europe.”

Deefor jumped into Archer’s lap and turned in a circle before settling down. Archer stroked his head.

“I was at an arms fair in London, evaluating a new American rifle and this posh, middle-aged, gray-haired guy sidled up to me and asked if I thought I could shoot a person if they deserved to die. I asked him who had the right to play God and he said he wanted to show me something. In a private room I watched a video of a British man who ran an organization in the Far East that supplied kids for sex with tourists. He was paying policemen to avoid arrest, and others to guard him. I watched the bastard rape a little girl and something clicked, some moral switch and I thought—why not? Why not kill a man like that? The world would be better off.”

Conrad stared at him without blinking.

“He was the first. And it was easy. Thinking back, that should have alarmed me and it didn’t. But it was easy to set up, easy to be patient and easy to pull the trigger. I hit him at a distance of one and a half thousand yards straight in the middle of his fucking face.”

Despite Archer’s cool delivery, Conrad wasn’t convinced by his claim it was easy, nor entirely convinced by his explanation. There was more to the guy than that. Deefor put his paws on Archer’s chest as if he sensed Archer’s discomfort. Conrad knew how wrong it was to take the law into your own hands. The whole point of having rules and regulations was to keep everyone secure. Systems were in place to bring people to justice or to prove them innocent. Laws were the framework of a civilized society. He and Archer stood at opposite ends.

“I’m not expecting you to agree with what I did,” Archer said. “But sometimes people can’t be touched by the normal process. It’s simpler and better if they’re just…removed.”

“How could you do it? Pull the trigger, take a life?”

“Until I made that first hit, I didn’t know for sure I could. After I’d watched the video, the guy invited me to talk to some people. I was picked up from my flat and taken blindfolded to a big house in the country. They sat me in a room, told me to sign a pile of forms and promised me a great deal of trouble if I ever opened my mouth. Here I am, opening my mouth. See how much I’m trusting you?”

Conrad nodded. “Was it MI6? Well, it’s called SIS nowadays, isn’t it?”

“I was involved in an offshoot of SIS, though it would never be officially acknowledged. Ten of us trained together. Six didn’t make the grade. We were all loners, all damaged. Kids without parents. Men without friends. We were taught to hide what we thought, what we felt. Two more moved to something different inside the department. Two of us were left. The only two they thought could kill and kill again.” He took a deep breath. “I liked… Chris became… Anyway, he died. Then there was one. Me. But I walked away, and found it wasn’t just the SIS who wanted my services.”

Conrad wondered what he’d been going to say. Chris became what? “How did these brokers contact you? You just get an email asking if you were for hire?”

“Sort of. Messages were passed. I could have ignored them. I did for a while and then I didn’t. I had virtually no money left. One hit was going to pay as much as I earned in six months.”

“You did it for money?”

“I told you. I’m good at killing.” A muscle twitched in Archer’s cheek. “I ticked all the boxes. Excellent shot, detail-orientated, good planner, patient, good at counter-surveillance, able to adapt quickly, intelligent enough to understand guns, ballistics and the effects of the environment, good at knowing
when
to take the shot and happy to fill several bank accounts with the proceeds of my work. In other words, amoral and greedy.”

“Did they all deserve to die?”

“I never checked if the details in the dossiers were true. I accepted what I was told. I didn’t care enough. I didn’t
think
enough. Not much of a defense, but I did want to get out. I’ve been planning an exit strategy for a while. I left it too long.” He tickled Deefor’s ears. “I have no friends. I can’t trust anyone. I haven’t heard my real name spoken for over fifteen years and the truth is, I’m unlikely to survive long enough to see my next birthday.”

Conrad stared at him without speaking for a long time and watched Archer grow increasingly uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Archer asked.

“Just hoping your birthday isn’t today. Tell me it’s a long way off. But if not, think we’ve time to stop for lunch before men play God?”

Archer let out a choked laugh.

Conrad’s head was full to bursting. What the hell had he gotten involved with?

Chapter Twelve

Archer drove north toward Edinburgh with Conrad silent at his side. A large city offered more protection and opportunities than a small town.

“Get rid of that gun,” Conrad suddenly said. “Stop somewhere, take it to pieces and throw it away. You can’t afford to get caught with it and neither can I.”

“We both have people trying to kill us. I need the gun.”

Conrad turned to look at him for the first time since Archer had made the crack about not living long enough to see his next birthday. “If you use it to defend yourself or me you’ll go to prison and so would I. Accessory after the fact among other things. If you killed someone, I’d be charged as well. I’d go to prison for the same amount of time. The doctrine of joint enterprise. My crime as much as yours. Ignorance is no defense. The gun needs to go.”

“You’d rather die?”

“Get rid of it or I’ll walk—limp away.”

Archer stopped next to a river, though it wasn’t the gun that went into the water but the old registration plates he’d snapped in half. Conrad didn’t look suspicious when he got back in the car.

“Thank you,” Conrad said.

Archer didn’t feel guilty. Conrad had no idea what they were dealing with.

“Do you have—?” Archer asked.

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

He concentrated on the road and did some thinking of his own. Not possible to offload a bombshell like that to a lawyer and not expect a lot of collateral damage. Archer felt…relieved he’d told him the truth—well, most of it. Better that Conrad didn’t know Phoenix’s price for getting rid of Conrad’s problem was that he had to work for him again. Archer could have dealt with the issue himself but lack of intel and the likelihood of having to commit a crime on British soil made him wary. That would be the end. No prison, just death. The SIS wouldn’t want to take the risk he’d draw them into his mess.

Conrad needed to be offloaded somewhere safe until there was proof Phoenix had neutralized the threat against him. The car had to go. He worried there was a tracer on it he hadn’t found, possibly attached after his name had been in the paper, but maybe before. The name he was using, Archer, had to go too now that it had been compromised, which meant he had to use the Deep Web and find another forger.

There could be no future for him and Conrad. For once in his life he had to put someone else before himself.
I’m toxic.
The longer he was with Conrad, the more he’d poison him.

“We’re both on the run from people trying to kill us,” Conrad said finally, “and neither of us knows why. Once the police find the dead bodies at Marram Cottage, they’ll be looking for us. We need to hand ourselves in and tell the authorities everything. They’ll offer protection.”

Conrad had no fucking idea.

“I’m to tell them that after I shot a guy in the head in Paris, another guy tried to shoot me and so I killed him? While I was on the run in the UK, two more guys ended up dead? In any case, there’ll be no sign of anything wrong at the cottage.”

“But you said—”

“After I found them, I called my broker. I told him two of his men were dead, that the ones who killed them had likely been after you.”
Though it might have been a single guy after me.
“He’ll send a crew to clean up. He can’t afford the risk of them being linked to him. Now he’s looking for whoever wants
you
dead because he has a score to settle.”
Theoretically.
So much for not telling Conrad that.

“How does he know you didn’t kill them?”

Archer tightened his hold on the wheel. “I told him I didn’t.”

“Why should he believe you? What if you’re using me and my situation as an excuse for killing the men in the cottage?”

“Is that what you believe?” Archer asked in a quiet voice, disappointment tugging at his gut.

“I don’t know what the fuck I believe anymore. I feel like I’ve stepped straight into the middle of some over-the-top paperback novel.” Conrad sighed. “We heading for Edinburgh?”

“I need to dump the car.”

“Right. And me too?”

“I was thinking of putting you on a train to London.”

“And what do I do if I find a welcome party in my home? For the time being we should stay together. I might not know I was in trouble until it was too late. I’m not strong enough to look after myself. Plus you owe me for dragging your arse out of the sea.”

Archer risked a chuckle. They were still okay—just.

“I need to get online,” Conrad said. “My senior evidence gatherer, Sev, should have spoken to Martin, my clerk, and sent me the court transcripts of my cases for the last eighteen months. Whoever’s after me has to be in there somewhere.”

“I’m not too sure about that. What if it’s some guy you put away years ago, not as recent as the past year and half, who’s just been let out of jail? Or it could be a man you turned down in a bar. Or what about the ex you spent seven years with?”

“He dumped me, not the other way round.”

“Your arse not beautiful enough?”

“Evidently not.”

Archer glanced across at him. He could see by the tight set of Conrad’s jaw that his previous relationship was out of bounds.
Tough.
“What about the one your ex left you for? Could he want you permanently out of the way in case there’s a change of heart?”

“No. It has nothing to do with either of them. But you’re right about eighteen months not being long enough. I need to find out if anyone I had dealings with has recently been released from jail.”

“This is needle in a haystack stuff.”

“Better than the alternative. I’m supposed to be happy your broker is going to use his own means to find out? What does that involve? Murder? Torture? Not what I want. And what’s his price?”

Archer said nothing and Conrad tsked. “Oh fuck. He wants you back on board. Going to ask me if I think it’s a price worth paying?”

“He can deal with this more quickly than you going through every case you ever handled.”

“But not legally. Violence is never the solution. I won’t let you do it.”

“How are you going to stop me?”

“Call him and tell him to drop it.”

“I don’t want you to be hurt,” Archer said.

“You’d hurt me more if you went back to work for him.”

With those words something began to thaw inside Archer’s heart.

Archer dropped Conrad off with his bag outside an Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Edinburgh. “I won’t be long.”

There was no answer and Archer thought Conrad expected to never see him again. That ought to be the case. He should dump the car, get a train out of the city, a plane out of the country and forget he’d ever met the guy. But he couldn’t. He felt an increasing sense of responsibility, a nagging anxiety in his gut, because if he hadn’t surfed into trouble in the sea, Conrad’s presence in the northeast would have remained undiscovered. Maybe whoever killed Wilf Ellory and the other guy hadn’t been looking for Conrad, but Archer couldn’t take that risk.

He swallowed his groan.
This
was the reason he should stick to fucking willing strangers in dark corridors. He glanced down at Deefor sitting on the passenger seat.

“Your bloody fault as well,” he said to the dog. “I should have stayed on my own. Now I have you to look after too.”

Deefor cocked his head on one side and wagged his tail. Archer parked illegally on a street with no CCTV cameras, took what he needed from the car and dropped the keys down a drain as he walked back to the restaurant, the dog trotting at his side.

When he was a few doors away, he unzipped his bag and beckoned Deefor to jump inside. “Be quiet and I’ll slip you some bacon.” He pulled the zipper partway closed.

Conrad looked up when Archer reached him and his eyes widened. Had Conrad really thought he’d dump him? He had his laptop open on the table and was drinking coffee. Archer slid his bag next to the wall and dropped onto the chair.

“Where’s Deefor?” Conrad asked.

“In my bag.”

“Are you ready to order now?” A waiter hovered at their side.

“Lasagne, please,” Conrad said.

“I’ll have the same. And a jug of water. Oh and two pieces of bacon.”

“Bacon?” the waiter asked.

“I like bacon with my lasagna. Got a problem with that?”

“No, sir. I’ll be right back with the water.”

Archer immediately regretted his tone. It wasn’t the way to stay under the radar.

“I thought I might as well download those files,” Conrad said. “I want whoever hit me with the car to go to prison, not the morgue.”

I don’t. If I could get my hands on him, I’m not sure I could resist killing him.

Conrad’s expression told him he knew exactly what he was thinking. “Have you called your broker?”

Archer took out his phone and switched it on, put it on speaker.

“Yes?” Phoenix asked.

“Ten.”

“I have nothing yet. Be patient.”

“I don’t want you to look. I won’t work for you. I’m out of the business.”

Archer glanced at Conrad, who smiled at him.

“You really think so, dear boy? You really think it’s that easy to walk away?”

Archer cut Phoenix off as the guy laughed and switched off the phone.

“Weird laugh,” Conrad said.

“Weird guy.”

“Thank you.” Conrad reached across the table and put his hand on Archer’s.

“I don’t like not knowing who’s coming after you.”

“Which is why I’m going through these files. Maybe you should mull over your last few jobs and try and figure out if anyone could have discovered your identity.”

“I already have and I came up with nothing. Prior to the last job, the previous two were for different brokers. No problems, I wasn’t followed, I was paid on time, there were no repercussions.”

“So you think it’s connected to the last one? How did whoever shot at you know who you were? Where you’d be?”

“He had a photograph of me printed on a piece of paper. He could have tried to take me out
before
I made the hit but he waited until after.”

“Who was your target?”

Archer hesitated.

“You might as well tell me.”

“Farouk bin Abdullazin. Arms dealer.”

Conrad sipped his coffee. “So the shooter wasn’t someone protecting him. Whoever controlled the guy who shot at you wanted Farouk dealt with, which is why they let the hit go ahead but maybe they didn’t want to risk it being connected with you or your broker or his client. Your broker could be behind it.”

“Doesn’t say much for my skills. He thinks I’ll get caught so he makes sure I won’t talk? I don’t think that’s right. He knows me better than that. I
am
better than that.”

“Or he’s worried you might speak out if you discover something else about the man, maybe a different reason they wanted him dead? What if he wasn’t an arms dealer but something else? A guy who wouldn’t sell his land for development, or he’d slept with the wrong woman or man.”

Archer swallowed hard. Had Phoenix lied to him? The food arrived and he slipped Deefor the bacon.

“Doesn’t have to be the broker, just someone who works for him,” Conrad said. “Or maybe it’s a rival of yours, a person who wanted the job and didn’t get it.”

“I have no idea of the identity of any other operative.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t know you. The one you killed did.”

Archer still wondered about that.

“Why did you decide to stop?” Conrad asked.

“I’d had enough, taken one too many risks. Started to think about what I was doing.”

“Did anyone know you were thinking of stopping?”

“No.”

“You might not have written a resignation letter, but did you do something they might have found out about?”

“A while ago I paid for several new IDs. I chose a city I’d never been to and put a car in a garage with money, clothes and a new phone. It was still there when I went for it.”

“Tracker on the car?”

“Not that I found.”
But…if I didn’t find it?

“What about in your bag? On your clothes?”

“I’d have seen one. Even the smallest devices are as big as a fifty pence piece. If there had been one, it would have been on the car. But then how did they find out about the car? Although my identity was compromised after my name was in the paper. It was probably only a matter of time before they found me.” Archer took a deep breath and exhaled. “The guy I paid to create my ID gave my name up. I’ll have to change it again.”

“Getting a dog might not have been the brightest move. By now they probably know you did that. Why did you? Was it really to warn you of intruders?”

Archer pushed his half-eaten lasagna away. “Yes, but I wanted to see if I had…the capacity to take care of something. I wanted to know what it was like to have something that cared for me, was happy to see me, relied on me.”

He stared across the table and Conrad met his gaze.

“I’m broken,” Archer whispered. “I have been for a long while and I wish to hell I could put you somewhere safe where nothing could hurt you. While you’re with me you’re in danger, but for the time being at least, you’re in danger
without
me. Until I figure out who’s behind this, I’ve doomed you to my fate. I’ve only ever had one good friend and I…fucked that up. I don’t want the same to happen with you.”

Conrad’s lips twitched into a small smile. “We’re friends then?”

“The nearest I have. Apart from the dog.” Archer took out his wallet and put thirty pounds on the table. “Come on.”

Conrad pushed himself up and put on his coat. When they were outside the restaurant, Archer let Deefor out and took Conrad’s bag from him. “I need you able to move as quickly as you can. We have to get out of the city.”

Archer hailed a cab and they climbed inside. “Station, please,” he said to the driver.

“Where—?” Conrad shut up when Archer gave his fingers a warning squeeze.

Without turning and staring out of the back window, Archer couldn’t check whether they were being followed. It would be so easy to slip into paranoia. He was probably already there.

Once they were out of the car and inside the station, Archer pulled Conrad to a halt and handed him a wedge of notes. “Buy single tickets for us to three different destinations south of here. Use different clerks and pay in cash. All the trains should leave in a time period of around sixty minutes. Choose large cities, preferably on routes with a few stops. If they depart from adjacent platforms even better. Get us something to drink and then take a seat on one of the benches near the ticket office. Keep Deefor with you.”