Unleashed
CONRAD JONES
Copyright © 2014 Conrad Jones
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
DEDICATION
To those who have no fear of combating evil with extreme violence.
CHAPTER 1
He crouched in the shadows and watched the house. His muscular frame was hidden by the inky darkness in the back yard of the scruffy detached house. The lights inside had gone out twenty minutes ago but he hadn’t moved an inch since then. Patience was the difference between success and failure, life and death. They would be asleep soon. Then he would move. Until then, he could rehearse what was to come, in his mind. He had planned tonight for weeks, watching, waiting, planning and rehearsing but now time had run out for them. His fingers touched the hilt of his knife and he slid it silently from its sheath; the movement barely a whisper in the blackness. The blade was blackened steel to stop it reflecting light, razor sharp one side with a double serrated edge the other. It was a thing of violent beauty designed for one thing only, the destruction of tissue; the blade was honed to slice and to cut and the saw edge was expertly engineered to rip flesh and splinter bone.
The knife felt reassuringly heavy as he checked his watch and slid it silently back into the sheath. He snapped his night vision goggles into place and the world became clear and sharp, tinged with a green glow. He checked the backpack and then he was ready. Instinct told him it was time. He moved silently, his weight expertly distributed between each boot to lessen any sound. Hugging the shadows at the edge of the wall, he moved with stealth and purpose and he was at the back door in under a minute. He knew it was alarmed. There were contacts fitted to the door and motion sensors covered the entire ground floor. They were cautious and professional but then so was he. If anyone entered the ground floor of the house by force, the alarm would sound. The box on the exterior was wireless, powered by the mains and supported by a built in backup battery. Cutting the mains electricity would not stop it from ringing. Knocking it off the wall wouldn’t stop the internal box from ringing either and that was loud enough to wake up the occupants and nearby residents. His targets could sleep peacefully at night in the knowledge that the alarm would wake them if their security was breached. Breaking into the ground floor wasn’t an option.
Without pausing, he reached for the fishing twine, which he had hidden behind the drainpipe that morning. One tug was enough to free up the rope which it was tied to and it uncoiled and fell from the roof with a dull thud. He listened intently. Nothing. Pulling the rope with his left hand, he checked that it was still securely fastened to the chimney stack and once he was happy, he put his right boot against the wall and climbed. His powerful upper body took his weight, making it look as if he was walking up the wall. He was on the roof in seconds. The Velux window, which allowed light into the converted loft was his way in. Clearing up as he went was essential. He cut the rope from the chimney and let it fall into the back yard before sliding the blade beneath the beading which held the double-glazed unit in the frame. The glass unit slid out silently and he twisted the locking handle inside and opened the window before putting the glass unit back in place and tapping the beading back around the glass. Rebuilding the window took half a minute at best.
