Back Nemesis Save as PDF
Chapters (79)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Anthony Riches
  3. NEMESIS
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. Acknowledgements
  75. Read on for an exclusive preview of the next Mickey Bale thriller Target Zero
  76. Prologue
  77. 1
  78. About the Author
  79. An Invitation from the Publisher

Mickey stared at the wall of the living room for a good fifteen minutes. Then stirred himself to action. Pretty meaningless action, but better than nothing. Headed for Martin’s flat. Because what gun dealer wasn’t going to keep something on the premises to defend himself?

Without the first clue as to what to do. But he knew he had to do something. Quickly. And so he focused on reviewing his options as he drove the short journey. Or rather on trying to come up with any different course of action to the one he knew was inevitable. It all came down to one question: how to stop Joe carrying out his threat.

The way Mickey saw it, there wasn’t any sure way other than to put a bullet through Joe’s head. The problems with that option being firstly that he wasn’t in possession of any firearms. And wouldn’t be getting any help from Martin.

And secondly, that with his threats delivered, Joe would go silent and deep. Knowing that if he stayed undetected then even the craziest end-run attempt on his life couldn’t be attempted. Allowing the clock to run down on his ultimatum. A threat that Mickey was pretty sure Joe would order to be carried out without a second thought. Or even carry out himself.

All of which meant that he only really had one realistic choice. The defeated warrior’s dilemma. To surrender. Trust that Joe would limit his revenge to taking as many pounds of his flesh as he deemed appropriate. The problem with that being that it probably wouldn’t stop there. Revenge, he guessed, not being a dish Joe believed was best eaten cold. Probably more like a running buffet. And one to be consumed with gusto, for all to see. He could hear the gang leader’s boast in his head. ‘You’ve seen the video of me gutting the bastard who was killing my people? Now you can watch his wife pay the price as well. And the bitch reporter who put my fucking face in the papers.’

He’d want to send a message. Tell his rivals, his enemies and the police the same thing: you can’t beat me. And if you try, this is what I’ll do to you. And the people you love.