THE THOUSAND DOLLAR HUNT: Colt Ryder is Back in Action! by J.T. Brannan Read Free Book Online

An ex-Delta Force operative, his pedigree was unquestionable. After retiring, Badrock had set up a security contracting company called the Vanguard Corporation, providing personnel to active trouble spots around the world to support military operations, as well as private security jobs back home. Hatfield – not long out of Delta – had been recruited into Vanguard during its early days, and was one of the organization’s top men. At the park here, security was provided by Badrock’s Vanguard group, under the presumably very effective leadership of Hatfield.
    I was all for security of course, but even I felt that Hatfield’s presence here was a bit like overkill. This was a man used to fighting the Taliban, Al Qaeda and Isis, a man who had protected presidents and fought wars, a member of a Tier One special operations unit who was skilled in counter-terrorism, demolitions, sabotage, guerilla warfare and more. His last job before Badrock Park was assisting the Afghan police in Kabul, during which time his unit had faced suicide bombings, IEDs, mortar fire and angry mobs armed with machetes and Kalashnikovs.
    So why had he taken this job at Badrock Park? Did he just fancy a paid vacation?
    The simple answer was that General Badrock had ordered him to take it; and Badrock never did anything without a reason, which made me wonder if there wasn’t more to this place than met the eye.
    After accepting a cup of strong black coffee, I’d opened the conversation with some compliments about the park before hitting Groban with the picture of TJ.
    He’d just denied ever seeing the kid, but the twitch at the corner of his eye betrayed him; Groban had seen him alright. I suppose I’d just have to tease it out of him.
    ‘Are you sure?’ I asked.
    He regarded me with a cool stare. ‘Absolutely sure,’ he confirmed.
    ‘That’s interesting,’ I said. ‘Because Mr. Ortiz from the Rio Grande Zoo was sure that he saw you talking to him, about four weeks ago.’
    Groban’s eyes twitched nervously over toward Hatfield, then back to me. ‘Then I am very much afraid that Mr. Ortiz is mistaken.’
    ‘So you weren’t there four weeks ago?’
    ‘I didn’t say that,’ Groban said after a pause. ‘I just said that I didn’t see that kid. I was there, yeah, I had a meeting with the director.’ He looked again over toward Hatfield, then back to me. ‘Look, what did you say your name was again? What’s your interest in this?’
    ‘My name is Tom Hudson,’ I said, ‘and I’m a friend of the family. They’re concerned because nobody’s heard anything from him since your meeting with him.’
    ‘Mr. Groban has just told you that he didn’t meet with him,’ a deep and gravelly voice came from behind me. Hatfield . ‘So I think there’s nothing more for you to learn here. It’s time to leave.’
    I turned in my seat, looked at the man directly.
    He was big, but not overly so; he wasn’t a gym queen, but a man whose body was a tool to get the job done, entirely functional.
    A dangerous man; I could see it in his eyes.
    ‘Hello, handsome,’ I said, deciding to change my approach. Being nice hadn’t got me anywhere; and the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. I wondered momentarily who’d first said that. Benjamin Franklin? Albert Einstein?
    Well, whoever it was, they’d been right; and it was time for me to follow their advice.
    ‘I thought you were just there to look pretty. You know, Groban has the office well done out. Potted plant here, painting on the wall there. Random guy on a chair at the back, makes the place feel complete.’
    There was a moment’s pause, as tension seemed to increase in the room almost visibly.
    And then Hatfield smiled; but it wasn’t a smile that offered any sort of comfort or warmth.
    It was the smile of a predator, absolutely confident of his place at the top of the food chain.
    ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘You’re even