Page 42 of Lies Ripped Open


  “He willingly went to jail to expunge his record. He has several weeks left. He also killed a guard, although from the way I hear it, the guard was corrupt and Warden Phillips has officially said that it was you who killed him.”

  “I think he’s earned his release. I wouldn’t be here today without him. Release him and find him a job. A good job too, something he won’t get bored with. Hell, let him go after Kay, he’ll like that.”

  “I’ll talk to the LOA director, who I might add I’ve already pissed off by promoting Olivia from regional director to Special Operations director, as she deals with all of the Reaver fallout.”

  “Tell him I’ll owe him a favor.”

  “That might actually work. As for the task force that’s trying to find Kay, I’m sure I can speak to Lucie and Olivia and figure something out. You do know the ‘Nate is Hellequin’ information is now well and truly out of the bottle?”

  “Took long enough.”

  “Yes, well, I wouldn’t be too thrilled. People are going to come after you. Nate Garrett wasn’t always liked by everyone, but Hellequin was feared by people who weren’t used to feeling that emotion.”

  “Hopefully most of them will think twice after what happened yesterday.”

  “Ah, yes, Enfield. We have the names of everyone Kay worked with. It’s a sizeable list, but we’ll get through it. We’ve raided Kay’s home too. He was the most arrogant man I’ve ever met. He had notebooks of details on the plan. He really never thought he’d be caught before he was done. We’ll track him. We’re also setting up a guard post at the second realm gate, which is about half a mile underground, by the way. Hopefully once we know where he’s gone, we’ll be able to capture him.”

  “No you won’t, he’s gone. He won’t be back until he’s ready. Where does the gate take you to?”

  “It comes out just outside of Edinburgh.”

  “Are you sure there are only two realm gates?”

  “We’re searching for more, just in case. Also, I need to thank you for bringing his plot to my attention.” She smiled. “Thank you, Nathan.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s now my turn to ask you for a favor.”

  “Go on.”

  “As you know, Remy’s house was blown up. He’s an excellent agent, but he doesn’t always play well with others. I want you to take him with you back to Earth realm. He has a new job, and he can’t do it here.”

  “And this new job is? I think a walking, talking fox is going to be a bit of a giveaway in even the most liberal areas of the UK.”

  “He’s going to live in Tintagel and work with those who man the ferries. That’s his official job. Unofficially, he’s your liaison with me.”

  “Okay, I can do that. What’s happening with Lir’s body?”

  “His son, Mac, has been notified. He’s justifiably angry and will be helping us track down the rest of the Reavers. In fact he’s already left for Europe to look into a group of them. I almost pity their fates when he finds them. He did have a message for you though.” She opened a drawer on the desk and passed me a sealed envelope. “Read it when you leave.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It was good to see you again, even under such shitty circumstances.” She embraced me and we just stood there for a moment hugging one another. “Please keep safe,” she said as we pulled apart.

  “You too. Whoever Enfield and Kay worked for, they’re not going to stop.”

  “Can I give you some advice?”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t stop with just Kasey. Train others like her.”

  “One thing at a time, first I’ll train Kasey, and then I’ll make my own army.”

  “I’m not kidding. People will follow you, and that’s a powerful trait to have. The more people you can train to be safe, the harder it’ll be for people to go through them to get to you. And, in the long run, the harder it’ll be for whomever Kay and Enfield take their orders from to gain a foothold here. I’d rather have people turn up asking for work who have been trained by you than by someone at their school.”

  “We’ll see where it goes.”

  “The last few years have seen a lot of things happen that suggest something is coming. You’ve been involved in some, and we’ve stopped a few others, but they keep coming. At some point the people behind them are going to show themselves. Just be careful, okay? I’ve lost plenty of people I care about over the years, I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

  “If you ever need me, you contact me and I’ll come running.”

  “And what about Merlin and his threat? He will carry that out, you know. I can disapprove, but I can’t stop him, not without council approval. And like I said a few minutes ago, that’s going to be slow. Could take months, could take years. Are you prepared to risk that?”

  “It doesn’t matter now. At some point me and Merlin are going to have to finally have it out.”

  “He’ll kill you if that happens.”

  I left Elaine in her office and walked back out into the now empty chambers. I had no idea when I’d be back in Camelot after my remaining six days were up, but I would be back. And when I did come back, neither Merlin nor his paladins were going to stand in my way.

  EPILOGUE

  Six days after the naming ceremony I found myself sitting in the park that had been the center of so much conflict during my time in Avalon, when Remy sat beside me. “You need to go see Fiona.”

  “I know. I thought you’d already gone thought the gate.”

  “Not just yet. Been waiting for you. Your friends left a few days ago, even that incredibly attractive werewolf, Ellie. Ah, if only she were a fox and that wasn’t the creepiest thing I’ve ever said.”

  “Yes, thanks for the mental image.”

  “Sorry about that. It’s been an eventful few days though. A lot has changed here, people are talking about Hellequin and how he stood up to Merlin and his cronies, how he killed an evil madman. They’ll have you being the romantic hero soon, the one who swoops in to rescue damsels from dragons.”

  “I don’t know many damsels,” I said. “Or dragons for that matter.”

  “You really planning on dragging out this whole six days thing, then?”

  “Yep. Have you seen the paladin who’s following me around?”

  “The guy in the oh so inconspicuous black suit? Apparently they didn’t explain the idea of plain clothes very well.”

  “I spent four hours sitting here the other day while it pissed it down. I know it was childish, but it was funny to see him just sit there and not move.”

  “Nice you had some fun with it.”

  I stood and stretched. “You coming with me to Fiona’s?”

  Remy nodded.

  The walk wasn’t very long, and my paladin shadow was there every step of the way. I could have lost him, but what would be the point, he was clearly no threat to me. Besides, I didn’t care what he told Merlin.

  We reached Fiona’s house and knocked as Remy looked longingly at the burned-out husk that used to be his home. “My guitar was in there,” he was wistfully.

  “Guitar?”

  “I was learning how to play. I was getting pretty good. You haven’t seen a guitar being played until you’ve seen ‘Stairway to Heaven’ played by a fox.”

  I stared at him for a moment. “That’s . . . I’d like to see that.”

  “See, everyone always does. You heard from Mac?”

  “He left me a letter.”

  “Really? What did it say, or is that some kind of secret?”

  I thought back to the short letter: Nate. I’m going to find any remaining Reavers. I’m going to kill them all until their rot is gone from this planet. Thank you for the justice of ending my father’s murderer. Thank you for saving my life. I should have treated you more like the friend you were. I’m sorry for that.

  “He’s going to deal with some issues,” I paraphrased.

  Alan opened the door and beckoned us both
inside.

  “How’s everything going?” I asked him.

  “Good. Elaine tells me I’m to be part of the task force to track down Kay, and that my prison term has been finished. Know anything about those?”

  “Nope, not a damn thing. Good news though.”

  “Of course you don’t. Well, thank you all the same. Fiona’s in the study, down the hall.”

  I followed Alan’s directions and found Fiona sitting behind her desk reading something on a computer screen. She saw me come in and stood up. Her injuries had been fully healed for a few days now.

  “I’m glad you came,” she said.

  “You told me it was important. I turn up. What’s going on?”

  Fiona walked over to a bare patch of wall and brushed an illusion aside, revealing a safe. She entered a code and opened it before removing a blue file. “Before you see this, you need to know something. I’ve known about these for a few months, but didn’t tell you simply because I assumed they were fake. I’ve had them tested by everything and everyone I know who might be able to figure out the answer to that question. They’ve all told me they’re real. You’re going to want to sit down.”

  I did as Fiona asked, and she passed me the file. I opened it and was very grateful to her for the idea of sitting.

  “These can’t be real,” I said immediately.

  “They are, I promise,” she assured me.

  There were half a dozen black and white photos, all from what appeared to be inside a bank of some kind. “Where were these taken?”

  “A bank in New York, a year ago. He entered it at night, robbed the place, and these were the photos that the CCTV installed there captured.”

  In each photo a man stood looking up at the camera. Each camera was different, it was as if the man had walked up to it and dared it to take a photo of him. The man was my height, with short dark hair. He had a patch over one eye, and the skin tone on one of his hands was different to his bare arms.

  “Mordred,” I whispered. “He’s dead.”

  No one said anything.

  “I killed this man myself,” I said, louder. “Mordred is dead.”

  “He’s alive, Nate,” Fiona told me. “He was alive as of a year ago, at any rate.”

  “I saw his body, he had a sniper round go through his eye.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  For several years I’d believed I’d finally rid the world of the curse that is Mordred. To see him come back to life and be so brazen as he robbed a bank was almost as if he were taunting me. I threw the pictures across the room.

  “Nate?” Fiona said.

  “Do you have any idea where he is now?”

  “No, there’s been no sighting of him since this robbery. He’s vanished.”

  The anger subsided. “He’ll pop back up again at some point, and then I guess I’ll just have to kill him a second time. Hell, I’ll kill him a hundred times if it means he’ll eventually stay dead.”

  “I’ll keep monitoring my contacts for information on him, but I wanted you to know.”

  “Thanks.” I sat there, my mind racing. Mordred was alive. I’m sure he was aware that I was the one who’d sent him to his grave, or at least tried to, and if that was the case, I didn’t have to track Mordred down. He’d come to me. And then I’d have the chance to make sure he stayed dead.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  No matter how many books I write, and how many acknowledgments go inside them, my wife Vanessa will always be the first person I thank. Her patience and support is unwavering, and I couldn’t be doing this job without it.

  My three beautiful children, who are one of the reasons I write. The fact that they appear to think that their dad being an author is equal parts cool and embarrassing will always bring me no end of happiness.

  To my parents who appear to show no slowing down in their support of my work. Thank you for always sounding interested when you ask what I’m working on, even if it really isn’t that interesting.

  Thank you to my agent, Paul Lucas, and all of the hard work he has put into helping my books and career. I’m very much appreciative of it. Also, he plays Dungeons and Dragons, which makes him both geekier and cooler than me.

  To Jenni Gaynor, my all-around brilliantly smart editor. My books are better because you worked on them. Thank you.

  D. B. Reynolds and Michelle Muto are not only my beta readers; they’re also two of the most talented writers I know, and more importantly, my good friends. Thank you for always taking the time to answer any questions or doubts I have about my work. I wouldn’t be writing this acknowledgment today without all of your help over the years.

  To Emilie, Sana, and the rest of the 47North UK team. You’re always available to answer questions, and it’s been a pleasure to work with you. A special thank you goes out to Neil Hart. The fact that Neil traveled from London to spend several hours with me at my Waterstones book launch is something I will always be grateful for.

  To my friends and family who have supported me over the years: Thank you. Without that support I never would have gotten published in the first place.

  To the other 47North authors: Our little secret group has always been a place of information, laughter, and incredibly inappropriate jokes. And I couldn’t imagine a world where that doesn’t happen.

  A very special thanks goes out to the UK Police Force. One officer in particular, who would like to remain unnamed, helped me with any questions regarding hostage situations and how they’re dealt with. Thank you very much for all of your time and help. Any errors in the book are mine and mine alone, and I apologise for them.

  Last, but by no means least, thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed my books over the years. Here’s to many more.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2013 Sally Beard

  Steve McHugh is the author of the popular Hellequin Chronicles. He lives in Southampton on the south coast of England with his wife and three young daughters. When not writing or spending time with his kids, he enjoys watching movies, reading books and comics, and playing video games.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  CONTENTS

  LIST OF CHARACTERS

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 


 

  Steve McHugh, Lies Ripped Open

 


 

 
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