Ready to Kill by Andrew Peterson Read Free Book Online Page A

or quick getting there. We are not making a HALO insertion. Those days are long gone.”
    “I’d never ask that of you, especially at night.”
    “Also,” said Harv, “your special cell phone isn’t likely to get a signal in that area. How will we communicate with you?”
    “I’m working on that too. Right now, though, I need current photos of you for your fake passports and visas. I don’t anticipate you’ll need them, but it’s better to be on the safe side.”
    “It looks like there’s a camera built into this phone,” said Harv. “We’ll text you some headshots in a few minutes.”
    “One question,” said Nathan. “Exactly how are we getting down there?”
    “I thought you’d never ask,” said Cantrell. “The US Navy is giving you a ride.”
     

CHAPTER 7
    Driven by a primal desire, Franco returned to Santavilla in search of human prey. It had been too long since his last indulgence. Although one of the girls at the Silver Sands Club in Managua could’ve served his every need, she could never give him what he craved. Having his way with a prostitute was like feeding a dead rat to a boa.
    He currently traveled alone but without concern. Everyone knew El Jefe’s men drove metal-gray Range Rovers, and no one would dare challenge him. Besides, he was well armed. Whenever he made a solo trip to the village, he wore a sidearm and kept an Uzi under his seat.
    His timing perfect, he drove across the wooden bridge at 1955 hours. He wanted to roll into town just as the general store closed. The town looked asleep, no activity to be seen. No doubt the peasants were well into their marijuana and moonshine.
    At Tobias’s church, a pit bull mix wandered into the street—he’d seen the dog before. If Tobias had been feeding it prior to his death, no one seemed to have assumed the job. The emaciated animal stopped and stared, its eyes pleading. Franco eased off the gas and rolled the passenger window down. The dog cringed and backed up a step.
    “Easy boy, it’s your lucky evening.” He tossed his barbecued pork sandwich out the window. The animal flinched, then sniffed the air. It ran to the sandwich and consumed it in several violent chomps. Franco had planned to eat the sandwich on the way back to Managua later tonight, but this poor creature needed it more than he did. The dog looked up as if to thank him before retreating back toward the church.
    Not wanting to draw attention, Franco applied just enough gas to keep the Range Rover moving. The Perezes’ general store was just ahead on the right. In twenty more meters, he ought to be able to see the store’s side door. He had the sensation of being watched from the windows of every building lining the street but dismissed it as paranoia. No one was around. This town’s collective light switch was flipped off after 1900 hours.
    He saw her then—a bluish-white blur at the right edge of his vision. Just after his Range Rover passed the local tavern, she’d dashed from the general store’s side door toward the rear of the building in hopes of not being seen.
    Nice try, sweetheart. Franco peeled around the corner into the vacant lot south of the store and spotted her in the gap between the two Conex containers the Perezes used for dry storage. She jerked her head back, but it was too late. Scratching the tires, he accelerated across the vacant lot. He didn’t want to make it too easy, but he didn’t want to lose sight of her either.
    He skidded to a stop just short of the containers. In a fluid move he slid out, swung the door closed, and hit the lock button on the remote. The Range Rover chirped in response.
    He circled to the far side of the containers just in time to see her hop the chain-link fence and take off in a full sprint toward the river. Oh, no you don’t.
    She had a good head start, but she’d never outrun him. Her only hope of evading him would be to reach the cover of the trees and hide in the undergrowth. Her odds weren’t too bad,