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  The Predator and The Prey

  An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller

  K.C. Sivils

  Copyright © 2017 by K.C. Sivils

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  www.KCSivils.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

  www.gobookcoverdesign.com

  Book Layout © 2015 BookDesignTemplates.com

  The Predator and The Prey/ K.C. Sivils.—1st ed.

  ISBN 978-1540400406

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Predator and The Prey (An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller)

  Want to learn more about Inspector | Sullivan and the universe he inhabits? | (Use the links in the Kindle edition)

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  NUMBER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Join the Inspector’s e-mail list! | The Inspector’s Report

  Want to learn more about Inspector | Sullivan and the universe he inhabits?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  To F. James Price, always a gentleman and lover of words.

  “THE ONLY THING NECESSARY for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” - Edmund Burke –

  I WANT TO THANK COL. Tom Wilson USAF (retired) and Virginia P. Watts for their encouragement to see this work completed.

  A THOMAS SULLIVAN FUTURISTIC Noir Thriller - Prequel to The Predator and The Prey:

  The Fractured Man

  Also in the Inspector Thomas Sullivan Series:

  Last Train To Nowhere

  Grey Sky Blues

  Want to learn more about Inspector

  Sullivan and the universe he inhabits?

  (Use the links in the Kindle edition)

  YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE by clicking on the words in the text that have links, for example, Beta Prime and Capital City. These links will take you to specific pages on my author website. There you will find history and back-story regarding the topic linked to that page.

  For more information about Inspector Sullivan’s universe, you can go to my author website and search the pages in the Universe of Thomas Sullivan page on the site.

  The ultimate source of additional information on the good Inspector, his friends and dare I say, enemies, is my FREE reader guide, The Inspector’s Report.

  The Inspector’s Report will include short stories about the characters, backstory, excerpts and updates on when new Inspector Sullivan novels will be available.

  A Thomas Sullivan Futuristic Noir Thriller - Prequel to Grey Sky Blues:

  The Fractured Man

  Also in the Inspector Thomas Sullivan Series:

  Last Train To Nowhere

  Grey Sky Blues

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  NUMBER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  "THIS GUY IS SUPPOSED to be a screw-up. Did you see that shot? Did you? He never even broke stride! Just walked along and drew down on the perp. Must have missed the hostage by an inch."

  With a quick tap of the mouse, the video played again. The reflection of the nervous viewers faces shined in the monitor's screen, displaying a thin sheen of sweat on his face and forehead.

  “We have an enemy we don’t know about. That’s what I think,” the well-groomed man sitting across the office said calmly.

  "No, this guy is supposed to be a screw-up. It's all in his files, medical discharge from the Space Marines to cover up an incident. Transferred from every planet, he's ever served on and not by his request. Screw-ups don't make shots like that!"

  “No need to get excited,” the second man said calmly, brushing a piece of imaginary lint from his suit coat. “This can work to our advantage.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Somebody sent him. We find out who sent him and we find out who’s working against us.

  “What do you have on this cop?”

  The small, nervous man of Earth Asian ancestry pushed a tablet across his desk, watching the replay again. “Names Sullivan. Thomas Sullivan.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  I HATE SHOOTING PERPS in public places, too many people around to see the dirty part of my job. I hate it even more when rich people are involved. Wealthy tourists are the worst.

  First day on the job and I had to go and shoot a perp. I'd just cleared customs and retrieved my weapons when I spotted commotion just beyond the wait lines for security to board the starliner. Some young punk hopped up on whatever the local form of amphetamine is, had grabbed some spoiled rich young princess away from her daddy and was holding a knife to her neck.

  Tired from two weeks of hyperspace travel, I was in no mood to talk the punk down. So I shot him. One shot, one kill. Hostage crisis resolved or so you’d think. I learned later the punk was little miss rich princess’ secret street hood boyfriend she’d picked up while on vacation on Beta Prime. Seems he had no intention of living without her, or the drugs her daddy’s money could buy.

  I found out later I was only partially right.

  You’d think dear old dad would be happy I’d solved what was going to be a messy and expensive problem for him so easily. Nah. His wife got upset because the blood all over baby girl’s dress traumatized the little princess. Now I
have to fill out even more paperwork because mom and dad want to file a complaint.

  I decided I’d deal with it later. Tired of the cheap fare fed to the masses in steerage, I’d skipped breakfast, deciding to eat at the first hole in the wall diner I could find dirtside. Besides, I wanted to get a look at my new home before I actually reported in.

  Common sense said not to ignore the yelling idiot of a parent, but common sense and I were not always on good speaking terms. Besides, the omnipresent surveillance cameras had caught everything, and I would be exonerated. After yelling at me for several minutes and being ignored, dad threatened me with the law.

  I got a laugh from the look on his face when he saw my badge. That and the good look he finally got of my face. That does it for most people. He scurried off, spewing threats, something like he knew people in high places. Good luck with that. I only associated with people in low places.

  Retrieving the one bag I had checked, I stopped at the freight check out. I left orders for my small container to be sent to the address I'd provided. I got another immediate reminder of how I'd gotten the job. The handler smiled pleasantly and informed me for an additional fee, he'd make sure nothing happened to the contents of my container en route.

  He should have looked at my face first.

  After I showed him my badge and bent the thumb on his left hand all the way back to his forearm, I was fairly certain he was just as motivated to make sure nothing happened to my belongings as if I had actually paid the bribe.

  People moved out of my way as I strolled down the main concourse. They usually do. At two meters tall and 120 kilos of mainly muscle and bone, I'm hard to miss. The thick, ugly scar that ran from my hairline across my forehead all the way to my jawline on my right cheek usually helped motivate people to politely move out of my way.

  That and the fact my right eye is a much darker royal blue than the lighter azure of my left eye.

  The surgeons hadn't been able to save my eye when they put my face back together. At first, it bothered me. That is until I got used to controlling all the features that came with the new eye. Having a tiny computer inserted into you takes some getting used to. It was the same size as my new eye and surgically attached with care to the posterior side of my right clavicle. It controlled my cybernetic eye.

  It wasn’t all bad though. I could record images with the thing, and it was a fantastic targeting system.

  It also controlled my repaired left hand. My thumb and four fingers were replaced as the result of the same blast that cost me my eye. I'd been lucky. Most military grade synthetic skin grafts looked pretty bad. Unless you were a plastic surgeon, you couldn't tell just to look at my hand.

  Donning the great coat that I'd retrieved from my bag, I stepped outside into the infamous cold of my new home world, Beta Prime. It was nighttime, and the cabbies were hurriedly dropping off their fares and hustling to pick up arrivals from the starliner I'd just disembarked from, the St. Gabriel.

  My badge had helped me get on the first shuttle down from the space station where the St. Gabriel had docked. My size and general demeanor helped me move past the waiting passengers and grab a cab.

  The temperature in the cab wasn't much warmer than the climate outside, even after I shut the door. The cabbie who looked back at me through the safety shield had a couple of days growth worth of stubble and by the looks of things hadn't bathed in a couple of days either, making me thankful for the safety shield separating us.

  “Where to?”

  “Know any good places to eat? No chain stuff. Earth food though.”

  The cabbie turned on his meter and engaged the hover drive, lifting the vehicle from the pavement. Without looking he floored the drive and whipped the cab into the departure lane leading away from the terminal.

  “I know just the place. If you don’t mind mixing with the locals.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  MY RIDE THROUGH Capital City was interesting. Sort of. Typical capital city of a developing planet. Nice buildings and hover cars around the space terminal and government buildings. High rise apartments for those lucky enough to have the money and connections to live there. Not the part of town I would be living in though I’m sure I’ll spend plenty of time working there.

  Crime on a planet like Beta Prime doesn’t care what part of town you live in.

  I liked my cabbie. He didn't talk. More or less took me in a direct route to a working class neighborhood. It was on the edge of the better part of town that butted up against the ore processing plants. It had started snowing when he parked his cab outside a place called Joe’s American Diner.

  Depending on which sign you read first that is. Joe's location is on the main road on a street corner. The name of the place was Joe’s American Diner. The entrance on the side street had a different name.

  I had a good laugh at that. Eat at Joe’s.

  From the outside, it looked typical enough. Plastisteel construction. Dirty. Covered in grime from the processing plants and the constant smearing from the melt off from the snow and ice. Probably one of the first commercial constructs in this area once construction of the processing plants was complete. The workers have to eat somewhere.

  Paid the cabbie and got out. It felt good to be in my element. Joe’s was more than just a local eat spot. It was a bar as well. I noticed the cabbie had turned off his on duty sign and locked up his cab.

  “Off duty,” he explained at my curious glance. “I live around here. My wife waits tables at Joe’s.”

  “So I paid you to drive yourself home.”

  “Look, you said you wanted to eat Earth food at a local hole in the wall. You didn’t give me much more to go on than that.”

  “Fair enough. What’s your name?”

  “Ralph Jameson. Just call me Ralph.”

  “Ralph it is.”

  “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.”

  “Didn’t offer it. You might not want to know it.”

  Ralph’s face paled slightly. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, okay. I just took you to a place to eat, that’s all.”

  I laughed to myself. The smaller man looked tired in his crumpled clothes. Ralph surprised me. He didn’t smell nearly as bad as he looked.

  “No problem. I don’t want any trouble either. Look, no hard feelings. I’ll buy you a beer when we’re inside.”

  “Beer is good,” Ralph said with a grin, leading the way toward the entrance to Joe’s.

  The double doors of the entrance were under one of those faux neon signs popular in certain parts of town. Cliché really. Eat at Joes Bar and Grill in reddish pink with green highlights behind it lighted up the entrance off the side street.

  My new acquaintance Ralph walked right up to the doors and entered, giving me a glimpse of the place inside. It also let me see the two toughs just inside the door. Joe’s really was a bar.

  Ralph sauntered off in the direction of the bar without looking back. The two tough guys ran a scanner over me.

  “You’ll have to check your firearms here sir,” the tough with the shaved head informed me.

  I smiled back as I ignored him and walked into the place. My smile vanished when I felt the tip of a phase pistol between my shoulder blades.

  “Sir, house rules. Nobody carries. Your weapons will be returned to you when you leave. This is a friendly neighborhood establishment.”

  I turned just enough to look at Baldies face. He meant it. So did I when I hit him right on the button of his chin with my left hand. While he collapsed to the floor and before his genetically enhanced friend could move, I had drawn, thumbed the safety off and pointed my old school chemically powered, kinetic energy weapon at his nose. Looking down the dark space of a rifled barrel always gives a man pause.

  "I don't give my weapons up for anyone. Nor do I have to," I informed my new red-faced friend. With my left hand, I reached inside my coat and pulled out my badge. He looked at it and blinked a couple of times.

  “I’m sorry Inspec
tor. We didn’t know.”

  "No problem. I'm new in town. Haven't gotten to know the local help yet. Just to show there are no hard feelings on my part, I'll pay for a couple of beers for you and your partner."

  Giganto looked at me long and hard before realizing he wasn’t going to intimidate me. I also noticed he took a good long look at my right eye before taking a quick peek at my left hand. He grinned and nodded in recognition.

  “You serve?”

  “Yeah. While back.”

  “We’ll take you up on those beers. But please, no more trouble or we won’t be able to let you come back. Foods good here.”

  Baldy stood up rubbing his sore chin. He looked less than happy. I guess his professional pride was hurt.

  I made my way to an empty booth in the far corner near the door to the kitchen area. It was dark there, and I could keep an eye on the three entrances, main street, the bar and the entrance to the kitchen from there. Ralph had disappeared, and that was fine with me.

  The locals watched me sit down without much interest. Evidently, it could get rough here this time of night. The décor was pure Earth. This was a joint for humans. Images of classical musicians from old Earth adorned the walls. Bands like The Rolling Stones, which I had studied back when I was in school, and other similar musical groups from different time periods.

  A glance at the lighting told me this place served two entirely different crowds. During the day it served breakfast and lunch to workers. In the evening families who could afford it ate here. Or maybe dad was springing for a night for mom not to cook and they brought their kids here for comfort food from the home planet.

  After dinner time though, the crowd changed, and the lighting got turned down. People didn't like bright lights when they drank or engaged in business. I made a note to myself to get to know Joe if there was a Joe. This was a legit business. Whether or not it was a front, I’d have to learn.