A merciless assassin stalks Belfast and Detective Inspector Jack Lennon has been assigned to the case. As Lennon unravels a far-reaching conspiracy involving collusion among Loyalists, IRA members, and law enforcement, he discovers that his estranged former lover and their daughter are in the killer's cross-hairs. To catch the assassin and save the only family he has, Lennon blurs the line between friend and enemy by teaming up with an enigmatic killer named Fegan.
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: Collusion||Series: Jack Lennon, , #2|
|Release Date: 09-06-2010|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Soho Press|
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"We're being followed," Eugene McSorley said. The Ford Focus crested the rise, weightless for a moment, and thudded hard back onto the tarmac. Its eight-year-old suspension did little to cushion the impact. McSorley kept his eyes on the rear-view mirror, the silver Skoda Octavia lost behind the hill he'd just sped over. It had been tailing them along the narrow country road since they crossed the border into the North.
Comiskey twisted in the passenger seat. "I don't see anyone," he said. "No, wait. Fuck. Is that the peelers?"
"Aye," McSorley said. The Skoda reappeared in his mirror, its windows tinted dark green. He couldn't make out the occupants, but they were cops all right. The tarmac darkened under the growing drizzle, the sky a blank, heavy sheet of grey above the green fields.
"Jesus," Hughes moaned from the back seat. "Are we going to get pulled?"
"Looks like it," Comiskey said. "Fuck."
Hedgerows streaked past the Focus. McSorley checked his speed, staying just below sixty. "Doesn't matter," he said. "We've nothing on us. Not unless you boys have any blow in your pockets."
"Shit," Hughes said.
"I've an eighth on me."
McSorley shot a look back over his shoulder. "Arsehole. Chuck it."
McSorley hit the switch to roll down the rear window and pulled close to the hedgerow so the cops wouldn’t see. He watched his side mirror as Hughes's hand flicked a small brown cube into the greenery. "Arsehole," he repeated.
Comiskey peered between the seats. "They're not getting any closer," he said. "Maybe they won't pull...