Free The Hit List by Chris Ryan

house, have lunch, perhaps do a little shopping . . . But the truth is,
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    that a switched-on guy like you will go nuts in i'minutes. You realise that you're a nanny, that fre an arse-wiper, that you're a trolley-pusher - Uy that you're a servant. And a servant for the of people you wouldn't give the time of day to. apt businessmen. Spoilt rich kids. Vulgar, iucated women who haven't done a day's honest : in their lives.'
    [ the more reason to take their money,' said Slater anably. 'At least I know that at the end of the day my own man. I can say no to anything I don't y.'
    fou won't last long if you do say no,' Andreas ted. 'Close protection's a service industry. It's all nt saying yes. Did Duckworth read you the poem?' ater admitted that he had.
    |'He does that with all the guys. Then when they plain that some arms-dealer's wife has given them time he can quote it back at them. In fact, like a of queers, Duckworth adores rich women. He linely thinks that--' |?Did you say queers?' asked Slater. |*Yes. Didn't you figure that out? Your antennae are
    to have to sharpen up, my friend.' 1*1 guess they are.'
    I'Andreas, his eyes shining, leaned forward con atorially. 'Neil, junk Minerva and come and work i us. It'd be like old times, but without the beasting the bollockings and the trenchfoot. We were a at team then, we can be a great team again.'
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    I skeo xx / jofcwiodng ^�*''couA *' slater Faced fjBdrea^t^-eas's end** he vW^ , f, his resc* ^en�^ering. AndwX \^Ul ^^ �, hen a s-t^ a great taa V Wa& g 'Doia^oing wfauetoh jV And(1
    �stuniC"i^urinetotiKMtertota(''^TV--;     As U-a/V^s ^he coDliiorget ^ to do?
    'Th^'T^That'swhatiyo^0^ �ecia^0^cial projeat. V^\ V of a sort of mter-s^
    half a pounds f a dozen i^^^ �^* ^^ aves I aaves j^. U.^^Vj^t we do is import^
    have � a^ve been au.^to/e = C Vails * th\&tag!; 'W^J 'Why me? ^e an approach to f
    'B08' 'Because v�U[t*?'0�\ - expertaq^penenced l�^\^ Because you
    want ^,aPnt to gota.*^^ ^ F1re* .ome^m^ethmg.^^^C ^cgjmcnt you re
    on. ^ .^. Someth^B4,�    sort * n^rt of life, rfbo^ < pounds though, of hving .
    L J' 'Look, Ma,!^1^' ^^Y agf^ J
    I ^-^ want i, eno^od/^ ^ in London a wedj
    to k^ 0.0 keep rne^ ^ � ,V^ enough moncy-J
    peo0o^eopleanddOBJ^^r^ to hang out ^
    spor^ and r ^^^^gsj
    an O a^n Open Unwif ^ c^er^. I na^ ^J opersqooperationsstnf V^6-T d�n f ' '& ButNd.4,.^^ ormal'!
    \^OW
    ^
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    jju call them, to go shopping with. You don't know ne to go to the rugby with, or to take to the lema. Look what happened last time you tried living the normal world -- there were corpses strewn over ree counties. The covert world is the normal world 5>r you.'
    So, he knew about the school. 'We need you, Neil, and right now I think that you eed us.'
    fci Join us, in other words, if you want Lark to get you it of the shit.
    Looking back, Slater remembered that there had iways been this manipulative side to Andreas van jjn. He had always enjoyed power games - always ced trying to freak people out, to control them. The trouble was, although Slater was loth to admit , much of what Andreas said was true. He didn't eally know anyone outside the covert world. And acre was a side to it all - a sharp needle of excitement that he missed . . .
    'I need to get on with my life, Andreas. That's all. I idsh you well, but I'm not going anywhere near your iepartment. I'm out of the system now.'
    Andreas smiled. 'And you think the system's out of |you?'
    He left the question hanging.
    I Two days later Slater was standing on the steps of the I Hyde Park Hotel, waiting for the man he was to be -guarding for the day. In the morning, he had been
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    told, the principal would be shopping for clothes in the SW1 area, and in the afternoon he would be watching a home game at Spurs' White Hart Lane football ground.