The Hunted Read online

  THE HUNTED

  by

  Jo McCready

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE HUNTED

  First edition. September 14, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Jo McCready.

  ISBN: 978-0473536374

  Written by Jo McCready.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

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  Also By Jo McCready

  About the Author

  To the real RJ,

  a true inspiration.

  (she made me write that)

  Prologue

  She moved silently, closing in on her prey, her feet automatically seeking out soft patches of ground on which to tread. The gently dimming light of the evening aided in concealing her. Gorse, tufts of grass, the uneven terrain, and the fact that she was cloaked fully in black, ensured she could remain hidden. The midge—the bane of the Scottish countryside—her only disadvantage as she strove to remain still under their incessant onslaught.

  She’d done this many times, but never before had her prey hunted her in turn. Not that she knew of, at least.

  The man she was watching lifted the scope of his rifle and panned slowly across the face of a hill in the distance—where she had been positioned only an hour ago. If he had arrived sooner, perhaps their fates would now be reversed. Unluckily for him, she was much more accomplished at the hunt than he was.

  When she had a job to do such as this, it consumed her. She had taken down too many to remember but had learned from each and every one of them, honing her skills over the years. She was nothing short of a killing machine; he had no chance of getting out of this alive—she didn’t doubt her abilities for a second.

  The others had underestimated her, as had the hunter in front of her. Thinking her an easy target would be his downfall.

  Seeing nothing through his scope, he began his descent, concentrating on his footfalls lest he slip or turn his ankle on a rock. He stopped every few meters and held the scope to his eye, searching for her, unaware that she had him clearly in her own sights.

  Unable to follow him directly down the hill without giving away her position, she circled round, attempting to find the best point of attack, aware that she might only have one shot. She had to get close. It was her modus operandi. Though the strategy wasn’t without its risks, it had paid off countless times before. If she was too far away, there was no guarantee she would take him down and he might escape; too close and he might take her. It was always the second risk she favored.

  She edged her way nearer, parallel to her prey, ensuring she was neither above nor below his position. She was almost there, almost ready, almost at an optimum distance when he stopped walking.

  Perhaps sensing her presence, her hunter stood still, turning back the way he had come. Suddenly, he stiffened and, although upwind, she could almost smell his fear. He knew she was there, knew what was about to happen. He turned around and looked directly at her, fumbling frantically for his gun before his head exploded in a shower of red.

  Covering the corpse, she walked away with a deep sense of satisfaction thrumming through her entire body.

  Chapter 1

  Governor Kowalski ran a hand through his thinning hair and pushed it back in place. He picked up the phone from his leather-covered desk and dialed the number on the card he held. A card he’d had little reason to use since it was given to him seven years previously, when he was first elected. The card had been hidden in plain sight in his rolodex, which he had never got around to digitizing—or rather had his secretary digitize it for him. He wasn’t unusual in that aspect amongst his peers. ‘Old School’ he’d often heard them called by the younger set. He had no problems with the term, rather he embraced it. He had been elected due to his good old-fashioned family values, after all. Values he held dear. Values he was either about to compromise or protect with this call.

  “Good morning, you’ve reached Kingfisher. How may I direct your call?” asked a woman with a sweet Southern drawl that reminded him of Dolly Parton in some ridiculous way.

  “Is Benjamin Stone still in charge?” Kowalski asked. Was he doing the right thing?

  “Yes, Governor. Please hold and I’ll put you through.”

  Michael Kowalski moved the cell phone from his ear and stared at it. How in the hell had they known who was calling? He’d purchased the phone at the airport in Dulles the previous night before he’d returned home and had paid with cash so there would be nothing to link him to the purchase.

  He returned it to his ear and waited.

  “Governor, how can I be of assistance to you?” came the smooth and dulcet tones of Benjamin Stone. They’d never met in person, but the governor recognized his voice from the few times in the past when he’d had to make contact. It was Benjamin Stone who had initially reached out all those years ago to inform him of the organization and what it could do if needed. At first, the newly appointed governor had thought someone was playing an elaborate prank on him, but he soon found out the scope of the organization when Kingfisher helped to retrieve one of his constituents from a hostage situation in Somalia—a desperate situation in which the government had refused to help. The power and resources of the organization had both impressed and intimidated the governor, and he was glad he’d had no further call to use their services . . . until today.

  “I’ll cut to the chase, Mr. Stone. My brother-in law James Sullivan. You’ll have seen the news, no doubt.”

  “I do recall something concerning Mr. Sullivan’s sudden demise while vacationing in Scotland a few months ago. Is that correct?”

  “Indeed, Mr. Stone. Indeed, it is.”

  “A fall, that’s what was reported, was it not?”

  There had been numerous headlines and banners running across the bottom of the news channels when the incident had occurred. Tech billionaire dies tragically in cliff fall while on vacation in Scotland. It didn’t seem too far out of the realm of possibilities. Being rich didn’t shield anyone from death—death simply found another mechanism to seize his rich clientele. Balloon accidents, helicopter- and- plane crashes, drug overdoses, and, in the case of one of Benjamin’s recent client’s, a death faked in order for a world-renowned rock star to reclaim his life.

  “That’s what we were told, yes,” replied the governor.

  Silence descended upon the line as Benjamin waited for the governor to elaborate. He didn’t have to wait long.

  “Mr. Stone, I don’t believe James died from accidental causes.”

  Benjamin had suspected as much the moment he had heard that Governor Kowalski was on the line. In fact, he had expected a phone call much sooner. Something about the news hadn’t rung true when he’d heard it. He had an ear for those things, a cynical eye which he cast over all that he experienced. Nothing was ever as it seemed. Ben
jamin had been in the business long enough to know that what was portrayed to the outside world was rarely an accurate expression of the truth. It simply served a purpose. The truth was never a priority for most.

  “Can I ask what gives you reason for your suspicions, Governor?”

  “There was a mix up. Rather, we were told there was a mix up with the morgue and the funeral home. He was cremated before we got there. The coffin on the news, when he was repatriated, was empty. I carried his ashes back in a box in my briefcase. At the time, we were all in shock, and it didn’t occur to anyone that there was anything untoward. I spoke to the procurator fiscal—their equivalent of a coroner. I read the report. I believed it all, even without any actual physical evidence in front of me. We had no reason to doubt the situation as it was described to us.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, Mr. Stone, I have the benefit of hindsight. Plus, now that my sister has finally calmed down enough to function, she has begun to sort through the estate. Well, she has someone to do that for her. A few . . . anomalies have cropped up in my brother-in-law’s financials.”

  Benjamin sat straighter in his chair. “Anomalies? How so?”

  “Over the last three months, there have been weekly payments of five thousand dollars wired to an account in the Caymans. Justine knows nothing about these payments, and no one in his inner circle can attribute them to anything, be it business or personal transactions.”

  “It could, of course, be perfectly innocent and unrelated to his death.”

  “I don’t think you believe that any more than I do, Mr. Stone.” Michael Kowalski’s tone was hard and devoid of emotion.

  “Perhaps. What’s your theory on this, Governor?”

  Kowalski’s right knee shook under his desk as he considered, yet again, what he was about to do. “I think he may have been paying someone off. I think someone was blackmailing him.”

  “You must realize that the sums are very insubstantial for someone of his wealth?”

  “I can’t explain that, but something is off about this whole thing. If his death was intentional, I want to find out why. It’s imperative that we find out what really happened, for my sister’s peace of mind, at least.”

  There was something the governor wasn’t saying, Benjamin was sure of it. “Was there anything in your brother-in-law’s life that might have led to anyone blackmailing him?”

  “Not that we knew of, or can find. He’d recently set up a charity foundation for children from disadvantaged backgrounds. He grew up in the slums himself, as you well know. Clawed himself up with sheer tenacity and a genius that surprised everybody, not least himself. He was a standup guy. Didn’t lie, didn’t cheat. His businesses were all legit. I can’t think of a single reason someone might blackmail him and certainly no reason for wanting him dead. People were envious of him, sure, and he did butt heads with other big tech companies and the government at times. Nothing that could conceivably lead to his death, though. Nothing I can see anyway.”

  “And yet you think his death was suspicious?”

  The governor blew out a breath. “Something doesn’t add up. First the cremation, and now the money.”

  “You mentioned that you read the procurator fiscal’s report?”

  “Yes.”

  “You realize if there was a cover up, a great deal of people would need to be involved over there, not least the fiscal himself?”

  “Yes, and I can think of no reason why that would be, but, by implication, the answer lies in Scotland.”

  “I can see how circumstances could lead you to that conclusion,” Benjamin replied. He’d already considered the possibility. It wasn’t the only possibility, however. “Is it possible anyone from his past is involved? An incident that you don’t know about, precipitating his death?”

  The line went silent for a moment.

  “I don’t believe so, but it’s certainly possible,” Kowalski said. “I don’t see how anyone from his distant past would have the means to do that. James climbed out of that life at a young age, met and married my sister while still at college. Not long after, he sold his first company for two-hundred-and-fifty million dollars. As for things I don’t know about, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that might be. You have to understand, James was a very busy man. His entire day was planned, his every move diarized. If he wasn’t with business associates or employees, he was with my sister . . . his wife. His work was his life, and that life started early. He didn’t have a past, not one I knew about.”

  “I’m sorry, Governor, but I have to ask. Your sister . . . ?”

  “Let’s get one thing straight, right off the bat, Mr. Stone. I don’t like what you’re implying, and I urge you very strongly not to go down that route. I’m coming to you for help, not to get my family dragged through the mud.”

  “I apologize for the difficult question, Governor. We have to ensure we have all available information if we are to get you the answers you seek. Sometimes that simply means eliminating potential lines of enquiry at the outset. The more we know, the easier it is for us to do our job.”

  “I understand,” said Governor Kowalski, his tone softer than before. “My sister loved her husband more than life itself, and I don’t believe he’d ever have an affair. Their adoration always appeared to be mutual.” He sighed inwardly at intrusion of having to give someone such personal information. It was humiliating.

  Benjamin let the issue go for the moment. He had seen the wool pulled over people’s eyes for years when it came to their nearest and dearest. The more a person was described as an open book, the more skeletons they had hidden in their closets. Often, those closest to them were the most gullible to their charms. He’d have a team do some diplomatic digging.

  “Any health issues, physical or psychological?”

  “None.”

  “That you know of,” Benjamin prompted.

  “That we know of,” the governor agreed.

  “I must ask you, why call us? Why not use your own influence to reopen the case or hire a private investigator?”

  “I don’t know what I’m dealing with yet, Mr. Stone. I require discretion and an assurance that you will find the truth. I can’t trust any other parties to guarantee that. Also, if the procurator fiscal is involved, I don’t know how high up this goes. A private investigator or my own investigations are likely to be unsuccessful. I appreciate that your organization has some resources and techniques that are not widely available. You’re my best bet in getting to the truth. Whatever that is, I want to know. My family needs to know.”

  “I understand, Governor. We will get to the bottom of this, I can assure you. Of course, it is possible that his death is completely unrelated to the money. However, I agree that you are right to be concerned. I’ll have a team briefed immediately.”

  “I appreciate your help with this, Mr. Stone. This entire thing has been a living nightmare. I can count on your discretion, of course. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this is . . . delicate?”

  “As always,” Benjamin reassured him. “Governor, I have read the news reports, but if you could tell me yourself, why was your brother-in-law in Scotland?”

  “He was hunting.”

  Chapter 2

  Benjamin got up from his desk and walked to his window. He stood staring, both through the glass and through the scene beyond, seeing nothing of the view outside the window. He bunched his hands into fists on his hips as he stood rooted to the spot. He had a feeling that the governor was hiding something from him. Rubbing his chin, he considered what that could mean for any potential investigation. He understood why Governor Kowalski had come to Kingfisher. They were virtually untraceable, after all. Involving a government body would only have caused problems and wouldn’t get him the answers he needed. Far better to approach an organization with a wider and longer reach. Some people might think of them as mercenaries, but they had a robust ethical committee when it came to deciding which assignments to accept. This
one was straightforward enough for Benjamin to accept on behalf of Kingfisher without the need to go through that process.

  Luckily for Benjamin and the rest of the Kingfisher team stationed all over the world, there was plenty of corruption, political intrigue, high-level smuggling and industrial espionage to keep them more than busy—and unashamedly financially secure. Every now and then, an assignment would come along that drifted from the norm enough to be interesting. It was these cases that had kept Benjamin Stone in the game after all these years. Looking into James Sullivan’s death would be nothing if not interesting.

  Gathering his thoughts, he returned to his desk, pressing the intercom buzzer for his assistant Martha as he sat down.

  Martha appeared at his door moments later, and he invited her to sit. Her manicured silver-gray bob didn’t move a millimeter as she gracefully folded into the seat in front of him, her notebook and pen at the ready in her lap

  “It seems we have a transatlantic situation that requires our attention.” He proceeded to explain the situation, just as the governor had detailed over the phone.

  “Have Macy put together a team. Tracing the financial transactions is the first priority. We need access to the procurator fiscal’s report and the police report. Someone needs to interview the widow. We need complete access to everything we can find out about James Sullivan, past and present, including his most recent vacation details. Look into his family members, including Governor Kowalski. Something doesn’t sit quite right there.”

  “Do you have a preference for the agent on the ground over there?” Martha asked.

  “We have a few options. But first, get me RJ’s most recent psych evaluation. Don’t look at me like that, Martha,” he said as she looked up from her notes and stared at him. Before RJ came along, Martha was the only person in the organization who dared question Benjamin’s authority.

  Martha pursed her lips and said nothing, her concern showing in her raised eyebrows and her unwavering stare.