The Killer II by Jack Elgos Read Free Book Online Page B

the misery, death and suffering that you and your kind cause as you earn fortunes from skimmed donations and arms dealing at massive mark-ups. But now, as I look into your pathetic frightened face, I can’t be fucking bothered.’
    Ryan McKee trembled. Unable to move, he faced the man above him. ‘Who are you?’ he managed. ‘You’re not one of our guys, are you?’
    ‘Oh go to the top of the class,’ Liam sneered. ‘Did you manage to work that out all by yourself? London sent me mate. They sent me to find who’s supplying you, and you were very useful in helping me to find out. Then they sent me to kill you. And they sent me to kill your fucking mate, Jimmy Mal. He’s going too.’
    ‘ Me and Jimmy, why?’ stammered McKee, his face now drained of colour. ‘We’re not I.R.A. We’re, we’re Americans. You can’t kill us. We, we’ve never killed anyone in Ireland. We just supply money and guns, that’s all we do. We don’t kill anyone.’ His voice cracked as he saw Liam reach into his pocket and draw out a cruel looking blade. The Killer made contact with his chest and then a gentle pressure produced a small droplet of blood on his shirt.
    Liam continued in a low growl. ‘But the money, arms and explosives you send do kill, you know that. And you make a huge fucking profit from it all. That’s why you’re going mate. Now, where can I find Jimmy Mal?’
    McKee’s mouth moved but no words came out as The Killer slowly traced its way up to his throat. ‘Where’s Jimmy Mal? Where do I find him?’ Liam pressed, his voice even and controlled.
    Again McKee seemed unable to speak and Liam felt his hatred turn to disgust. This was a pathetic little man out for his own pathetic ends. He increased the pressure from his knife and saw McKee’s eyes widen as his lips once more tried to form words. ‘I don’t know,’ finally emerged in a whisper. ‘I don’t know where Jimmy is. I don’t know anything.’ The man swallowed hard then, his throat tightening against the pressure of the blade as he made an effort to reason with his captor. ‘Jesus, man, you’re Irish. You’re one of us. We’re on the same side man.’
    ‘One of you,’ Liam hissed through clenched teeth as he increased the pressure of his blade a little more. ‘One of you, am I? You know what? You know what’s fuckin ’ sad? Do you, McKee? Do you know what’s fuckin ’ sad?’
    The terrified man beneath him could only move his head slightly from side to side as the blood began to ooze from his throat. ‘I’ll tell you what’s fuckin ’ sad, shall I?’ Liam continued. ‘I used to be one of you. I used to believe in the cause until one day I realised there was no fuckin ’ cause. Jesus, it’s not even about fuckin ’ politics. It’s all about money. That’s it, plain and simple. And people like you? God help me, people like you are the worst.’ The man beneath him started to gurgle and blubber as blood dropped from his mouth. ‘You protest your fuckin ’ innocence. You never killed anyone. Oh no, you’re all safe here at the other side of the Atlantic, aren’t you, just raking in all that lovely money. Taking it from your own folks, people who probably still do believe there’s a cause, people who are as blind as I used to be, people who…’
    As Liam’s words dried mid-sentence, his jaw dropped in horror. ‘Oh Fuck! Oh Holy Fuckin ’ Christ,’ he mumbled as he released the pressure from his captive and stared down into the open eyes. ‘Oh fuck me, fuck me, I’ve killed the stupid wanker. You idiot, Darren McCann, you fuckin ’ stupid idiot.’
    As his old name slipped from his lips, Liam shook himself and knew he’d have to work fast. He extracted the blade from deep inside Ryan McKee’s throat. God only knew how he’d exerted that much pressure without realising, but he’d done it and that was that. He reached across to press the button of the intercom. ‘Drop me here please,’ he told the driver.
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