The Hunted

the hunted Richard F. Paddon contents 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 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Chapter 79 Chapter 80 Chapter 81 Chapter 82 Chapter 83 Chapter 84 Chapter 85 Chapter 86 Chapter 87 Chapter 88 Chapter 89 Chapter 90 Chapter 91 Chapter 92 Chapter 93 Chapter 94 Chapter 95 Free Thriller Sampler Acknowledgments About the Author Also By chapter one TALAMONE, ITALY. Wes Parker was dead and there was nothing else to be done. Standing there, staring into the dark blue green water of the Tyrrhenian Sea, Constanza Ocana didn’t know what to do now. She’d spent the last couple of days hunting the men responsible for the death of her family. That had taken her across Mexico all the way to Italy. At each step she’d wrecked lives, tortured men, and killed indiscriminately. It was as if she had never left the life of an assassin. That was fine. It had to be done. But now? That was a different question. Only minutes ago, she’d flipped Parker over the edge of the stone wall that surrounded his villa on the small island in the middle of the coast, in front of the idyllic beachfront town in Tuscany. The man hadn’t screamed but gasped as he plunged headfirst into the chilling water. It didn’t take long for the bubbles to stop forming on the constantly moving salt water. But even after that, Constanza didn’t move. She couldn’t. Not until she was positive that Parker was dead, and her revenge was complete. Of course, there was that part of her that knew she needed to move sooner rather than later. “Rest my loves. It’s over.” Turning away from the lapping waves, Constanza looked at the villa. She hadn’t gotten a good look when she’d first infiltrated it. There wasn’t any time. It had been easy to do. Parker’s security system hadn’t been installed yet. Now, though, looking up at the old building, she knew it had been paid for in blood money. That was the way of the world, and she knew it. People like Parker, CIA operatives who saw an opening to make more money always took it and didn’t care how many lives they ruined. Of course, she’d helped him to line his pockets time and time again. Even now, taking out the hit squad had done him a service. There was the possibility that even now, he had deals in place that were making someone money. Constanza had overheard Parker’s phone call. Did that mean she had a duty to take them out too? No. That was stupid, and she knew it. She’d done what she needed to do. Now it was time to get back to Mexico, where she could live out the rest of her life in peace and quiet. That was the plan, and nothing would stop her from making it a reality. You could always check his files. Might be something useful. The moment the thought entered her mind, Constanza walked towards the cool shade of the villa. It wouldn’t be that hard to find Parker’s office and go from there. Crossing the threshold, the distinct stench of piss filled her nostrils. That was the downside to using a stun-gun, sometimes the victim would lose control of their bowels and the result wasn’t pleasant for anyone. It didn’t matter, though. Once she was done with Parker’s home, she’d be out and heading towards Spain. From there, it would be a simple trip back to Mexico and then to the Mayan Riviera. Thinking about the beachfront house she’d built in the remote area known as Boca del Cielo, a smile crept across Constanza’s face. She’d been there with Michael and Juli many times before their deaths. It was a private paradise. One that she knew would be perfect to live out the rest of her life in. All she had to do was get out of Italy and meet up with her contact in Valencia, Spain. Inside the villa, Constanza couldn’t help but shake her head. The mishmash of modern decorating with the old-world architecture looked ridiculous. But knowing Parker, it was perfect for him, and he’d have invested many hours and quite a few dollars into getting it the way he wanted. “Hijo de puta,” she hissed, moving down the hallway. In her hand was an H&K P30 pistol. It was her favorite to use and holding it now, ready to take down anyone and everyone, gave her a feeling of being in control. It was a sensation she had missed and as Constanza entered what had to be Parker’s office. She stopped and smiled. This was more her style. Curved walls surrounded her, and instantly she knew where she was. The trip from the dock close to the Talamone beach had given her a wonderful view of the villa. The curved walls had to be the base of the old guard tower that watched over the cliff and the water below. Of course, Parker would choose this as his base of operations. Constanza wondered why on earth men like Parker went for these ostentatious displays? There