The Jason King Series: Books 1-3

by Matt Rogers

  ‘Guess I won’t see you again, champ,’ he said, his tone sardonic. ‘Good catching up.’

  ‘How much have you made from this?’

  ‘Close to two billion dollars.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why you stooped this low.’

  ‘Because you’re going to die in here, and no-one will ever know who you were or what you did. I’ll retire on a beach somewhere and sip piña colada’s for the rest of my life. And they say crime doesn’t pay…’

  ‘You’re batshit crazy.’

  ‘Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. Have fun with dying.’

  He turned on his heel and strode out of the warehouse. Kate let out a whimper, unsure of what was to come. King wanted to reassure her everything would be okay.

  But he knew it wouldn’t.

  On the way out, Lars signalled to two of the mercenaries who King guessed were the most obedient. The pair who would be more than happy to carry out his wishes. He spoke within earshot of King and Kate, so they heard every word.

  ‘You two want to stay back and finish them off?’

  ‘Pleasure, boss,’ one of them said. He was a bald man in his late forties with acne scars and a permanent scowl. The other guy was older, probably closer to sixty. King could tell they were both military vets. They carried themselves with the gruff demeanour of men who had seen a lot.

  Lars got into one of the Hawkeis, followed by the other twelve men, who split themselves evenly between the two vehicles. Just like that they were off, carting an unknown quantity of one of the deadliest biological agents on the planet.

  King bowed his head and knew there was no escape. He couldn’t break free. The rope was too thick, too tight. The two men left staring at them would do what they wanted, and then they would die. There was nothing else to be done.

  ‘Ex-army?’ King said as the pair strode into the warehouse.

  The older guy cocked his head and let out a harsh laugh.

  ‘Look at this guy,’ he said to his friend. ‘Trying to be all friendly.’

  ‘American bastard,’ the bald guy said. ‘And his little slut.’

  ‘Bossman won’t stop talking about you,’ the older guy said. ‘Said you used to be some kind of assassin. Most dangerous man on the planet, apparently.’

  ‘Flattering,’ King said.

  ‘I don’t believe him. Look at you. You’re fucking useless.’

  ‘How are you going to kill us?’

  Baldie looked around. ‘Well, there’s no-one else here, is there? So, anyway I want.’

  ‘Always wanted to do something like this,’ the older one said. ’Never gutted anyone before.’

  Baldie turned to him and raised an eyebrow. ‘The girl?’

  A sneer spread across the old guy’s face. ‘Why not? Let’s make him watch!’

  King felt his blood run cold. Rage flooded his system. He strained against the rope with everything he had, but even his immense strength could do nothing to budge the bindings. The mercenaries noticed. They started laughing in unison.

  ‘All your macho toughness isn’t working, is it?’ the bald guy said. ‘Untie the bitch.’

  The old guy walked up to Kate and kissed her on the forehead. He began to work out the knots in the rope around her, taking his time, moving slowly. Tears ran down her face, but she made no sound. King could see she was fighting to remain calm, even in the face of such horror.

  When the bindings fell away she attempted to make a break for it. She got off to a running start, but the old guy snatched her arm and threw her viciously onto the floor. Her head smacked on the concrete and she whimpered in pain. The pair of them moved in.

  Baldie pulled at her thin shirt, trying to tear it off. Kate let out a scream, a primal yell of fear and terror and disgust.

  King had never felt such anger in his life.

  He bucked and writhed like a madman, veins pumping, teeth bared, trying to do anything possible to stop what was about to happen. The older guy turned and made eye contact with him, and let out another cruel laugh. He relished the rage he had caused.

  King closed his eyes and forced the tears back into their ducts.

  He felt nothing but unbridled fury.

  Then there came a loud bang from somewhere outside. He recoiled at the sudden noise and opened his eyes. It took him a second to realise what had happened. The older guy flew off his feet and slapped the floor like a rag doll, landing in a rapidly-growing patch of crimson. King looked down and saw the man’s leg fountaining blood. The liquid spurted out at an alarming rate. He knew the guy’s femoral artery had been severed. He would bleed to death, that much was certain.

  As the man screamed, another bullet sent Baldie’s head snapping back, punching him square in the forehead. He splayed back across the ground, next to his friend. Dead from a single shot.

  The old guy had left his gun on the table, which meant he could only watch as a woman in police uniform strode in through the open roller doors.

  ‘Kitchener,’ King said.

  She took one look at the scene and wordlessly raised her gun, pointing the barrel at the older guy’s face. His features were bunched up in agony.

  ‘Don’t,’ King said, stopping her in her tracks.

  She looked at him.

  ‘Untie me,’ he said with ice in his voice.

  The old guy went pale and started dragging himself across the ground, moving with the fervour of a man who realised his predicament had turned dire. He hurried away from King. His leg poured blood as he crawled.

  Kitchener moved behind King and worked at the bindings for a few seconds. She hadn’t spoken throughout the ordeal. She knew what he was about to do.

  No words were necessary.

  As soon as the rope came loose King felt a wave of relief flood through his system. He was free to do as he pleased. Claustrophobia rarely affected him, but in that instance he’d felt like imploding from sheer frustration. He didn’t wish to think about what might have happened had Kitchener not shown up.

  He followed the trail of blood across the warehouse floor. The old guy hadn’t made it far. He scrambled feebly for purchase on the dusty ground, dragging his useless leg behind him. King stood over him and wrapped two hands around his shirt.

  ‘What was all that you were saying before?’ he said.

  ‘P-please…’ the old guy spluttered.

  ‘Oh, now you’re sorry.’

  He thundered a fist into the guy’s mouth, breaking off several teeth in a spray of blood. Then he dropped his entire bodyweight behind an elbow which smashed the guy’s nose into a million pieces. The pain knocked him out.

  And that was that. King turned to Kitchener and raised a hand, signalling that it was time to finish it. She tossed him her M&P40. He caught it one-handed, spun and put a final bullet in the guy’s brain.

  He wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

  King’s first priority was Kate. He crossed to where she lay curdled in a ball on the floor, sobbing softly. He lifted her to her feet and wrapped both arms around her, holding her close, kissing her hair, letting her know everything was going to be alright.

  ‘I’m so sorry you had to experience that,’ he whispered.

  When they separated, Kate walked to the old guy’s lifeless body and kicked him harder than King thought possible. In the stomach, in the face, in the throat. She let out all the rage and fear until there was nothing left, then came back and hugged King again, burying her face in his chest.

  Kitchener watched patiently while they embraced.

  ‘How did you find us?’ King said.

  ‘I’ve been driving around aimlessly for the past hour. I was stopped by the side of the road and saw your sedan go past.’

  ‘Driving aimlessly?’ he said. ‘What happened at Rafael Constructions?’

  She looked at him, and he saw something in her eyes. He sensed that nothing would be the same for her again.

  ‘Helen went outside first and they shot her down like it was nothing
,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if they realised I was still alive. Everyone disappeared. Gone, just like that. I went back to the station … and the two officers there were both dead. Gunned down at their desks. I’m…’

  She trailed off.

  ‘You’re…?’ King said.

  She looked up at him, terrified. ‘I’m the only police officer left in Jameson.’

  ‘It’s my old handler from Black Force doing all this,’ he said. ‘He told me to come here when I retired. I took his bait. That’s why everything has been revolving around me.’

  ‘What is this place?’ Kitchener said, staring in awe at her surroundings.

  ‘It’s an anthrax production facility.’

  ‘Anthrax … like the—?’

  ‘Yes, like the virus. Lars has manufactured a shitload of it.’

  ‘That’s precise.’

  ‘I don’t know how much exactly. I just know he plans to use it. And he left with the supply ten minutes ago.’

  ‘I saw them. Two big military trucks, right?’

  He nodded. ‘Do you know which way they were headed?’

  She shook her head. ‘I waited for them to pass then continued on. Walked here all the way through the forest. Left my car in one of the pastures, because I knew I’d be spotted otherwise. I think they were heading for the main road.’

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for helping us out.’

  She shrugged. ‘You’ve been helping us out for the last three days and none of us realised.’

  ‘We can’t go back into town,’ Kate said. ‘They’ll kill us.’

  Kitchener nodded. ‘I agree. We need a place to hole up for the night. It’s getting dark. I was thinking the motel, but it’s the centre of attention right now. An entire crew came in to install new windows.’

  ‘What about the one in Hurst?’ Kate said.

  ‘No,’ King said. ‘Too far. I know a place.’

  ‘You do?’

  He nodded. ‘You just have to promise not to look in one of the machines.’

  CHAPTER 33

  The metal work factory stood out against the darkening sky as Kitchener pulled up to its bulk. King sat in the back, one arm around Kate’s shoulder, holding her close. Their bellies were full. On the way through Jameson, Kitchener had stopped at the convenience store and loaded up on supplies. They hadn’t eaten all day. The hot pies and protein bars made him sleepy, and he’d almost drifted off, but the sudden stop jolted him awake. Kate stirred and touched his cheek. The one that wasn’t swollen.

  ‘You okay?’ she whispered.

  He nodded, and kissed her forehead.

  They got out of the old Nissan and Kitchener went to the boot. She lifted it up and brought out two large flashlights, high-power, designed for camping. She gave one to King. Kate gathered the two M4 carbine rifles from the back seat that they’d taken off the dead mercenaries, and the three of them left the car behind.

  They headed into the factory floor. It was just as decrepit and abandoned as seemingly every building around here was. King glanced at the machine in the far corner — home to eight dead bodies — and led them away from it, into a hallway branching off from the main area. It ran into the depths of the building, leading to a number of empty rooms. They were all sparsely furnished with various discarded chairs and desks. He guessed they used to be offices. He found one that was warm enough to hold back the shivers, surrounded by the thousands of tons of steel all around them. They settled on the dusty floor and propped the flashlights in the corner, leaving them on for added comfort.

  For a long while, no-one spoke. All three of them had a lot to process. There had been little time for reflection over the past few days, and King took the time to rest his head against the plywood wall and attempt to deal with the waves of discomfort coursing through him.

  I need a holiday.

  A real holiday.

  ‘What’s going to happen?’ Kate said, breaking the silence. He noticed her tone quivered. Her voice was laced with worry. ‘What could that much anthrax do?’

  King closed his eyes and grimaced. He’d been trying to keep his mind off that problem.

  ‘A hell of a lot,’ he answered honestly. ‘I did a lot of research on it before Kuwait. If they manage to weaponise the entire lot in aerosol form … it could be devastating.’

  ‘How bad are we talking?’ Kitchener said.

  ‘The worst part is that no-one will know they’re infected until it’s too late,’ he said. ‘If they release it over a populated city, hundreds of thousands of people would be incubated.’

  ‘Incubated?’

  ‘They’ll inhale it, and become infected, but show no symptoms. It’ll all start to kick in at once. Fever, vomiting, coughing, that first. But an attack of that size … any responses that the government has prepared aren’t going to work. All the serious problems will start at the same time. Headaches, seizures, deaths. Across an entire city. It’ll be total fucking chaos if Lars has the amount I think he has.’

  ‘So what do we do?’ Kate said.

  ‘I don’t think they’re leaving the area just yet. We go searching in the morning.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Instinct. Past experience.’

  ‘What made you get into the military?’ Kitchener asked out of nowhere. The question took King by surprise.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Why did you join up?’

  ‘That’s an odd question.’

  ‘I’m just curious.’

  ‘Sorry, Kitchener, but I’ve talked enough about my past lately,’ he said, glancing at Kate. ‘I’d rather not get into it. In fact I’d be happy to never address it again.’

  ‘I’m just thinking about why I signed up to be an officer in the first place.’

  ‘Why did you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, staring vacantly at the wall. ‘Because it was stable, I guess. A good means of employment in these parts. I was dirt poor.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘I’m still dirt poor, and I’m also holed up in an abandoned factory hoping I don’t get murdered overnight.’

  ‘You from around here?’

  She nodded. ‘I was born a couple of towns over. In Waterford. Haven’t seen the world. Haven’t seen anything.’

  King reached over and gripped her shoulder. ‘Is that what this is? You think you won’t have an opportunity to in the future?’

  ‘What future?’ she said. ‘We’re sitting here while they run rampart around the countryside, doing who-knows-what. They’ll kill us if we try to stop them.’

  ‘You know we can’t do anything while it’s dark,’ King said. ‘We’ll get killed trying.’

  ‘We’ll get killed no matter what.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure. I’ve managed to avoid it for ten years.’

  She bowed her head. ‘I just don’t know if I was prepared for something like this.’

  ‘No-one’s prepared for this kind of thing.’

  ‘It seems you are.’

  ‘You don’t want to be me. I’m ready for anything because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to give a psychologist nightmares.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like it’s good for you.’

  ‘It’s not.’

  King leant out the door and glanced at the far end of the hallway. The daylight creeping into the factory floor had all but disappeared. Soon it would be night. He got his legs underneath him and clambered to his feet.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Kitchener said.

  ‘Heading into town for a bit.’

  She looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘How else do you want me to put it?’

  ‘I get it. But why?’

  ‘I’m not going to sit here and twiddle my thumbs. I’m just going to have a look around. Plus, I operate better alone.’

  She also got to her feet. ‘Then I’m coming with you.’

  ‘No you’re not.’

  She cocked her head. ‘Why not?’ />
  ‘I literally just explained.’

  ‘You operate better alone?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s rational.’

  ‘Clearly you didn’t look hard enough into my file.’

  He walked over to Kate and stuck his hand out, motioning for one of the assault rifles. She heaved one off the ground and handed it over. He slung it over his shoulder by the strap, kissed her on the lips, whispered that he would be back soon and turned to leave.

  Kitchener stood blocking the doorway.

  ‘That’s not a good idea,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t like this, King,’ she said. ‘I saved both your lives, and now you’re just running off with one of our guns. What if you die out there?’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because no-one will see me.’

  ‘That’s bullshit.’

  ‘That’s your opinion. Did you spend ten years in the Special Forces?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then move.’

  He brushed past her, fed up with the stalling. Reluctantly, Kitchener moved to let him through.

  ‘You don’t have a phone,’ she said. ‘We have no way of knowing if you’re alright.’

  ‘I’ll be alright.’

  He paused in the corridor, looking back. He made eye contact with Kate. She nodded her understanding. He smiled. Then he turned and walked out of the metal work factory, albeit much slower than he had the first night in Jameson. He hadn’t found himself on the end of multiple beatdowns back then.

  Those were the days.

  He let the cool night air wash over him, embracing the solitude. It was indescribable how much better it felt with no-one around. It was how he’d spent thousands of hours in combat. It felt natural. Like he was at home. Which he knew he should not relish in. He’d moved thousands of miles away from his past to start afresh, to clear his mind of all the horrors he’d seen. Now he found himself back in the same situation. Alone, armed. Heading into an area he knew was populated by men trying to kill him.