Killer: Alexandra Drummond Thriller Series, #9

By T M Goble

In the gripping and heart-pounding conclusion to the Alexandra Thriller Series, "Killer," Alexandra stands at the precipice of a life consumed by violence. As the relentless attacks on those closest to her continue unabated, she is faced with a never-ending onslaught that threatens to unravel her very existence.

Alexandra, weary of the never-ending cycle of violence that has defined her life, finds herself on the run from both the police and relentless security services. The looming threat of spending many years behind bars hangs heavily over her, but the adrenaline rush of her tumultuous past has a grip on her that she can't easily break.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, calls for her help reach her ears, and she faces an agonizing dilemma. How can she respond to these cries for assistance while avoiding the relentless pursuit of the authorities who seek to bring her to justice?

With no one to rely on but herself, Alexandra becomes a lone warrior, battling to escape the clutches of incarceration and the deadly groups that relentlessly hunt her down. In a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, she must muster every ounce of her strength and cunning to survive.

In "Killer," Alexandra's resilience is pushed to its limits as she races against time to protect those she holds dear and to uncover the truth behind the relentless attacks. One last, desperate push is needed, but the question remains: Can she stay alive long enough to help her friends and find redemption for the tumultuous life she has led?

Join Alexandra as she faces her most perilous challenge yet, confronting the demons of her past and the relentless pursuit of those who would see her silenced. "Killer" is a gripping and explosive thriller that will leave you breathless as Alexandra Drummond battles for her very survival and strives to untangle the web of violence that has defined her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Creative Peak
• Release date: Feb 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224586141

Book preview

01

Alex brought Flicker to a halt after an enjoyable canter through the quiet byways of Shropshire. The cloudless blue sky accentuated the chill in the air, but the sustained horse ride had showed her fitness to be returning. Leaning forward, as her horse remained patient, she stretched and unlatched a gate with only a slight twinge in her shoulder.

The bullet in Kazakhstan had passed through her shoulder, but it had been repaired thanks to a skilful Kazakhstan surgeon. The injury in her leg, after being shot when in the US, had become barely noticeable and she no longer limped. Lifting her face to the sun, she revelled in her lucky escapes. Both shooting incidents could have killed her.

She crossed the quiet lane and unlatched the opposite gate to enter her estate. The high surrounding wall, built centuries ago, demarcated the extent of her land, passed in the legacy from Vince.

Her mind would not recall who shot her in Almaty. No method of picturing the face worked. Possibly it would be a masked figure, but her brain would not forgo the intuition that she knew the person. It would be pointless speculation after months of no recall. After such a traumatic attack, the doctor had warned that her memory of the incident might never return.

Flicker stood patiently while she re-latched the gate. Turning onto the track, he pulled to one side. Alex smiled. As usual he wanted to drink from the stream. Letting him lead the way, he stepped onto the gravel at the edge of the stream, which was a wide watering place for the packhorses of old, situated on an ancient trackway. Flicking loose the reins, he dipped his head. Relaxing in the saddle her eyes rested on the rushing water which swirled and gurgled on its way down the small valley. As she was in no hurry, she was content to wait for him to drink and enjoy the peaceful countryside that surrounded her.

The ringing of her phone jolted her and she snatched it from her pocket, although she did not expect it to be urgent. Despite wearing gloves, her fingers were cold and the phone slipped from her grasp. Attempting to grab it, she missed. It fell past the head of Flicker, who took no notice. Bouncing on a rock, the screen shattered, and the remainder of the phone dropped into the water. It caught a strong current and disappeared downstream, bashing between the rocks. Shaking her head, losing the phone was trivial. In the next few days, she would take a trip to Ludlow for a replacement. Did she want a more advanced model? She could not be sure? With a shrug she ignored the loss of the phone but enjoyed the thought of a lunch in Ludlow and who she might invite to join her?

Putting her face to the sun, she had enjoyed her morning. It would have been extra with Vince or her sister Tanya. But he had been killed and Alex had been ostracised by her family.

Flicker, having finished his drink, returned to the path and she picked up the reins. He would have been content to walk without guidance as he knew his way home. She would wait to ascertain whether he wanted to gallop or preferred a steady walk. The dappled sunlight percolating the trees released the forest smells accentuated by the previous night’s rain. A day to feel alive, but with her background, it was surprising she had remained in the living world. Her past days of violence and terror had gone. A peaceful life beckoned. Neither Vince nor Malcolm were convinced that the backup and leaders behind the hardened killers would pick up the mantle, and for the time being she would go with their thoughts until another incident occurred. Alex was not so confident and believed they would want to pursue her to the death.

She would enjoy life and help others, probably only in a small way, but it would give her satisfaction.

Alex remained deep in thought as Flicker plodded along the familiar track.

A gunshot.

Jolting back to reality, she stopped Flicker and waited to hear if there was a follow-up. No further noises. Her shoulders relaxed as she assumed a local from the village had taken advantage of the open permission she had granted to shoot on the estate.

Another shot. Her mind focused. Not a shotgun which the villagers and farmers would use. Rifle fire. Three rapid cracks. Flicker moved restlessly, sensing her agitation. He was ready for her as she urged him forward. From dawdling, he flew into a streamlined gallop. More rifle fire. Although determining the direction was difficult, she sensed the source was near the house.

Reaching the edge of the woods, she drew Flicker to a halt. No sounds, no movement. Turning, she guided the horse to take the footpath through the woods that surrounded the house. Although wanting to gallop, she held him back to a walk, despite him protesting. A clear view of the house could be achieved from the woods without revealing herself. From there she might be able to determine the cause of the shooting. No one was visible behind the Manor.

Continuing along the path, she scrutinised the side of the house as the walled kitchen garden came into view. Stopping. She waited. Rifle fire in quick succession. The shots were nearby, but she could not glimpse the source or the target. She tensed. The shots had come from the other side of the house. But she wasn’t armed and had no method of communication now that her phone was at the bottom of the stream. No plan sprang to mind but it might be a social engagement to demonstrate shooting skills, but why hadn’t Zac and Claudia told her? They were punctilious in the information they provided. Caution was essential until the reason for the shooting materialised. Circumnavigating the house, she would investigate the situation and arrive at her own judgement.

Glancing past the kitchen garden to the front of the house, the image which greeted her spelled disaster. Allowing her eyes to sweep across the scene, she trembled with apprehension. A stationary police car with an armed police constable laying on the gravel, bleeding but moving. Claudia had propped a heavily bleeding Zac behind a statue near the front door. The uninjured police officer hiding behind the police car shouted into his radio. ‘We are being attacked.’

Alex grimaced, ‘Do something, man. Move the car to protect the injured.’ Although she had raised her voice, her words fell on deaf ears as he continued to screech into his radio. Her heart raced and she gasped at the terrifying incident that was unfolding. The direction of the fire was obvious. The woods on the far side of the lawn near the track to the village.

With all her senses on high alert she slid from Flicker and slapped him hard on the rump. He galloped into the woods and would remain there until called or find his own way back to the stable.

Using the cover of the house she moved across the open space. Another shot rang out as she reached the corner, where she could view the situation in more detail. Instinctively, she threw herself to the ground. The shot had been aimed at Claudia, who had stuck her head out from behind the statue to shout at the inept policeman.

Alex peered from under the bush. The officer was out of his league. He was flustered and only shouted meaningless information into his radio. To protect the others, she had to be armed. The injured policeman had stopped moving although he still groaned and clutched at his upper leg. He lay between the corner of the building and the police car. His gun lay on the gravel in front of him. The police car was ten yards from the building.

The route and decision were obvious. The injured police officer moaned though his eyes remained closed.

‘Stay with life, my friend. You will receive help shortly.’ Her mind raced. It was imperative to act so she would take a chance. The gunmen would be focusing on those who were cowering from their previous shooting.

Alex gulped as fury welled inside of her. The terrorists had returned. She would not allow them to kill her friends. Even if she died in the attempt, she would do her best to save them.

Five yards to his gun and another five to behind the police car. Hoping her leg and shoulder would stand the sudden exertion, she drew in a deep breath and rushed forward. Neither the policeman nor Claudia had seen her. The policeman fidgeted with his gun as he tried to relay information over the radio, but he was talking gibberish. He would be of no help to her.

With no hesitation, she scooped up the automatic and dived behind the police car. Several bullets whistled through the air. ‘Claudia, I am here and armed.’

The officer gabbling on the radio jolted from her sudden arrival next to him as shots rang out from the woods.

Spinning round, he pointed his gun at her. ‘Don’t be bloody daft, I’m on your side.’ She pointed her gun downwards. ‘Claudia, this copper does not believe who I am.’

‘Save me from the incompetents,’ came the booming reply. ‘Officer, she owns the Manor and is experienced in combat. If you want to live, follow her instructions.’

‘No. Unprecedented situation.’ He shook as his eyes blazed.

Alex could not trust him to be rational, he had lost control.

He twitched and glanced into the car as the radio blared. The heel of her hand caught him on the bridge of his nose. The knee to the side of his head splattered him on the floor, unconscious. ‘Sorry, but I might have saved your life.’

Alex threw his gun across to the statue. Claudia grabbed it. ‘Thanks Alex, I’ll kill any bastard who comes near to me and Zac.’

‘How is he?’

‘Flesh wound, upper arm. I’ve stemmed the blood flow. There are at least three gunmen at separate locations in the woods.’

It was the information she needed. Three armed with rifles would be difficult to deal with, as they could wait for those in the Manor to make their move. But time would be critical, as they would expect police reinforcements.

‘Give me three minutes and then fire.’

‘Timing from now.’

Alex raced along the side of the house and leapt over the balustrade wall. She entered through the French Doors and crossed the lounge. Sprinting along the west wing corridor, she dropped down the stone steps two at a time and entered the catacomb. She glanced at the sarcophagus, ‘Wish me luck, my darling.’

The door to the outside slid open, and she ran towards the chapel, which gave a clear line of sight along the woods. No shots came in her direction so she concluded the gunmen had not noticed her. She waited. Claudia fired. Perfect timing. Standing on the edge of the woods she focused on the area nearest to her; movement came in the bushes. The gunman hidden there must be readying for a shot. It was a risk to take a chance on such flimsy evidence. I do not know who you are, but you are attacking my house and have injured my friend. No second chances. She fired.

The groan indicated she had hit. Claudia peppered the woods with gun fire which would help to focus the attention of any further gunmen. Alex instantly fired at further movement. Perhaps one left. At the sound of a distant siren, movement came from the bushes further along the wood. She did not hesitate and unleased a volley of bullets. Holding her breath, she waited, but no further movement occurred.

Moving to the back of the chapel, she then followed a track into the woods. Creeping and crouching low she approached the area, wary that a gunman could be injured, but still able to fire. The first was dead, but she had no time to discover whether he had a tattoo of the interlocking crescents. No movement came from ahead. The second was an Arab, and he was dead. The third lay unmoving under the bush, but she could not see his face.

Retracing her steps so she would not become exposed on the open grass, she would use the police radio to issue instructions.

Approaching the side of the house, the officer had regained consciousness but lay on the ground talking gibberish. Hoping she had not hit him too hard, she whispered, ‘Lay there, help will arrive soon.’ She opened the back door of the police car and placed a large fluorescent jacket over him as he shivered.

Ducking low, Alex sprinted across to the statue. Claudia’s white face looked up at her. ‘Zac will be okay, but he has passed out.’ Alex gave her a hug around the shoulders and raced back to the police car. The radio blared, ‘Come in, Oscar Tango Delta. Report.’ Sidling past the stricken officer, she lay across the passenger seat and snatched at the radio mike. ‘This is Alexandra Smithering-Smythe. Two police officers are injured and three gunmen are dead. One member of staff at Smithering Manor has been injured in the shooting. We need immediate armed support. Patch me through to the Chief Constable.’

‘Who are you? Let me speak with an officer.’

‘Don’t bloody argue with me. Summon support and patch me through. This is Alexandra Smithering-Smythe. Bring up my name on your screen.’

‘Got it, patching you through and handing you to a security agent.’

Alex waited. The officer on the ground that she had hit groaned and fell back into unconsciousness.

She bolted to full alert as distant shots filled the air. Claudia shouted, ‘Shots from the village!’

Silence and then more shots. Claudia’s phone rang. ‘It’s Trevor.’ She listened. ‘He has been shot but wanted to warn us. There are several gunmen in the village.’

‘Tell him, I’m on my way.’

Snatching ammunition from the secure box in the boot, she jumped into the driver’s seat. She flicked the ignition, the car roared into life and she jammed her foot down. The radio blared, ‘We cannot locate the Chief Constable.’

Another voice filled the car, ‘This is Inspector Weatherby. Unexplained gunfire is occurring in Smithering Village. All units, including armed officers, approach with care. The call centre team is trying to combine the information from multiple calls. Surround the village but do not enter until gunfire identity is known.’

02

Alex was not prepared to delay her mission of reaching the village. The police tactics of the surround and wait method would produce results, but how long would it take? Help was needed now, as her friends were in danger. The Inspector had issued the standard procedure, but Trevor, the greengrocer, was injured and there were gunmen at large in the village. It was obvious they were after her. So, why attack the village? It made little sense. The tyres of the police car screeched as she cornered from her drive into the lane which led to the village.

Turning off the blue flashing light as she did not want to announce her arrival, although the police car, because of its iridescent stripes, would be a giveaway when it came into view. In the distance, along the straight road, a small local police patrol vehicle had half blocked the road. Shouting across Inspector Weatherby’s instructions which crackled on the radio, ‘This is Alex Smithering Smythe. I am in a police car, Oscar, Tango, Delta and I am armed. It is my intention to enter the village to protect my friends.’

‘This is the Chief Constable. Alex, I know your background. But please allow us to deal with the situation.’

‘Thanks for the advice, Chief, but I am going to the greengrocers where my friend has been shot.’

‘Okay Alex. All armed units if you are close to the village give distant protection to Alex if you can, while following Inspector Wetherby’s briefing. Alex, what are you wearing?’

‘Black riding clothes. I’ve no mobile phone.’

The unarmed officer by the patrol car ahead of her spoke into her radio as Alex approached. Jumping into the car, the constable pulled it back to allow Alex to speed through.

The automatic gun lay on the seat next to her. In one hand she held the pistol that she had taken from the secure box in the boot of the car. She slowed. Glancing in every direction, the car inched forward as she turned the corner for a view along the road through the village centre, her anger rose. One person lay on the village green; she assumed dead. Another lay against the wall with blood coming from his leg. These were innocent people. The gunmen had shown them no mercy. Her stomach twisted. Any gunman in her sights would be dead.

Drawing the car to a halt outside the greengrocer’s shop, the village was eerily quiet. No movement came and she hoped most villagers had hidden from the gunmen.

Turning