Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) (15 page)

to steal, then steal from someone as poor as yourself—our stuff is too
nice for the likes of you.

The cop had
driven the Land Rover
back into the city at
high
speed. Jack assumed that the trip to the abandoned fertiliser plant had
been
off the official radar and that the cop was worried about being
away in a police vehicle for too long. Such misuse of police property
was not
out
of the ordinary and it largely went unnoticed, but there
was always a point beyond which it would be silly to continue to take
advantage of the system. Then again, he may just have been in a hurry
because the wife would be angry if he showed up late for dinner again.
Jack’s training had taught him never to assume anything about anyone, and to deal only in the facts, but with someone like the cop, facts
were thin on the ground. So in spite of his training Jack deferred to his
own experiences and his innate ability to read people. He had encountered all
kinds
of
human beings from
every
conceivable background
and
occupation, and that
huge wealth
of
experience
meant
more to
him than training he received more than a decade ago, and which was
being mothballed piece by
piece as the world around him changed at
an alarming speed. He would never completely rely
on his own judgement,
but with just a few
pieces
of information about a person, Jack
was always able to come up with a
background story for them that
was very accurate;
or at least accurate enough to serve his particular
purpose. If he got a chance to surreptitiously ask the cop a few well
directed, and subtly probing questions, he would take it.

By the time that they pulled up in front
of the heavy iron gates of
the complex where he lived, Jack had created a skeleton back-story for
the cop. Jack left plenty of room for error in that profile, in case some
of
the supposed details were incorrect; there always had to be room for
error; if
not, then when the unexpected happened,
he would not
be
able to deal with it. The profile he had just imagined was not merely
something for his
brain to focus
on while he was being
driven back
to his home. It was much more important than that. When the showdown with Robert came, and he was determined that it would one day
happen, this cop could be there. Who he was would determine how
he would respond when Jack finally
made his move on Robert. To be

able to anticipate how the cop would react could make the difference
between Jack living or dying. He could not make such a detailed pro

58
file for Robert’s other goons; at least not yet, and so any advantage he
could get his hands on would be welcomed with open arms.

As they came to a stop in front
short
muzzle machine guns walked
and they
cautiously approached the Land Rover.
One
of the guards
trained his weapon
on the Land Rover. This was yet another sign of
the importance of the people who lived behind those gates—any other
civilian guard, no matter how well-meaning, who pointed a weapon at
a police officer, would not have lived to do it again. There was a very
clear hierarchy in the country and a security guard was a lot further
down the food chain than a
cop. The cops were the attack dogs
of
the ruling class, and they made their own rules as they went along to
ensure the status
quo was
maintained. They
could, and
quite
often
did, literally get away with murder. So much so in fact that no serious
attempt was ever made to cover up a police sanctioned execution. The
guard with the gun looked genuinely worried, not
because he feared
that this was a fake cop, here to carry
out an attack on the complex,
but that he was a real cop who didn’t take too kindly to having a gun
pointed at him.

“Tell your guy to stand down before I stand him down,” said the
Cop to the guard as he approached the vehicle. “I do not like having a
gun pointed at me.
And he looks a little bit
on edge. I wouldn’t want
there to be any accidents.”

“He is only doing his job officer,” said the Guard.
“I
know that
man,
but he can
only
do his job
once I
have gone.
Tell
him now or I will take him in for
questioning,” said the Cop.
“That’s if I
don’t view him as a threat and put a couple of slugs in his
head first. Tell him!”
The guard paused for a short
moment
before turning to his colleague.
“Stand down,” said the Guard. “He is a Cop.”
The other Guard paused, before lowering his weapon slowly.