RECRUITED: A Mike Humber Novella (Demon Series Book One) by RR Haywood

talking.’
    ‘Fine.’ She drops her head at the rebuke. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking.’
    I feel a pang of regret for hurting her feelings but she has no idea of the complexity of the ideology of taking someone’s life. An act done in seconds but a life of regret, remorse and nightmares that follow. ‘Just go back,’ I stop dead and glare at her. ‘This is nasty, fucking nasty shit…go back and wait for me.’
    ‘No,’ she says firmly, ‘I’m nervous and I’ll do what you say…but I’m doing this.’
    ‘Fucking sick,’ I mutter and keep walking. Five minutes to twelve. Time for lunch. We gain the area and walk more slowly while I hold the glossy tourist map. We keep stopping to stare down while pointing and prodding the map and looking round. Anyone watching will see an average couple trying to find the place where all the hire cars are kept. Elizabeth lets me take the lead and we gradually work towards the units used by Van De Velde Packaging.
    Cars start driving out from the units with drivers either dressed as factory workers or office types. I spare a casual glance at each, checking to see if Verhoeven is one of them.
    ‘I’ve got it,’ she snaps, ‘go down the road.’
    ‘What? Why?’
    ‘Just do it,’ she hisses at me like a completely different person, ‘go down the road, now!’
    ‘Elizabeth…’
    ‘Mike, you’re not the only one with a fucking brain. Get down the road and wait for me…quick.’
    ‘Honey trap?’
    ‘Yes, go…quick.’
    ‘Pick me up. No witnesses.’ I move off at a fast walk after handing her the map for appearance’s sake. Within a few seconds she’s a very attractive woman staring confused at the strange road signs and the glossy tourist map that really isn’t all that helpful. The quick turn of events has my heart beating faster. I keep going down the main service road, my rucksack firmly on my back but a relaxed expression on my face, one of the many workers heading out for a bite to eat at lunchtime.
    I resist the urge to turn and look multiple times. I do glance back but casually and only when there are no cars passing. I get further away and resist the urge to start jogging. The greater the distance between us the better. Being talked into picking up a pretty woman is noticeable but quick. With luck she’ll get herself in that car in a few seconds and bide my advice to only do it if no one is around to see.
    I keep walking with my mind whirring ten to the dozen. A car is a brilliant crime scene. All sorts of fibres, hairs, sweat and DNA fall off the body. She’s not protectively covered in the slightest but then neither am I.
    I turn to glance and spin back to face away with another leap of my heart at seeing her getting into a small white coloured hatchback. Facing forward I strain to hear the engine and risk another look to see the car going in the opposite direction. Fuck it. I’ve got no choice but to keep going now and hope to hell she can talk him into coming back this way.
    Seconds go by. Long seconds that feel like hours. One foot after the other and then suddenly the distinct noise of a small engine comes into hearing. Again I turn casually and see her in the front seat grinning and waving at me. I nod back and offer a grin. The driver is Verhoevan. Clearly recognisable from the footage. Sandy blond hair, thickset with a ruddy complexion. He looks confused, glancing at the stunning woman he just picked up and now back at the strange man with the shaggy beard. He indicates and pulls in next to me. She’s out of the car, leaning out of the passenger door. ‘There you are,’ she half laughs and half chastises me, ‘I got completely lost!’
    ‘I was so worried!’ I call back and offer him a thankful smile which he returns with just the slightest flicker of disappointment. ‘Are you okay?’ I walk forward noticing she doesn't move away from the open door, keeping it open for me. He can’t see her face but takes a long glance at her long legs