I am Death
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Seven days after being abducted, the body of a twenty-year-old woman is found on a green patch of grass by the Los Angeles International Airport. She has been left with her limbs stretched out and spread apart, placing her in a five-point human star. The autopsy reveals that she had been tortured and murdered in a most bizarre way. But the surprises don't end there. This killer likes to play, and he left a note lodged inside his victim's throat. Detective Robert Hunter, who leads LAPD's Special Section, Ultra Violent Unit, is assigned the case. But almost immediately a second body turns up. Hunter knows he has to be quick. Surrounded by new challenges as every day passes, Detective Hunter finds himself chasing a monster. A predator whose past hides a terrible secret, whose desire to hurt people and thirst for murder can never be quenched - for he is DEATH.
still be breaking protocol to access extremely restricted information to then pass it on.’ ‘To a fellow law enforcement officer, Adrian. What do you think I’m going to do with it, sell it to the press? And, after all, you owe me.’ Kennedy did owe Hunter. He also knew the LAPD detective well enough to know that he wouldn’t ask for anything unless it was absolutely imperative. He breathed out. ‘This is more than I owe you, old friend.’ Hunter remained quiet. ‘OK. Fuck it,’ Kennedy finally
down, unholstered his weapon and flash-peeked around the corner. He saw nothing. He waited a few more seconds, then peered around again. This time, not so fast. The Yukon was parked about eleven yards from the building’s entrance – a heavy-looking wooden door. That was it. There was nothing else there. Great, Hunter thought. Now what, Robert? No way that that door will be unlocked. This is a prison, not a house. Whatever security has been put in place here, it hasn’t been used to keep anyone
‘You know,’ she said, ‘you look a little familiar. Have I met you before? ‘No,’ Mark replied. ‘This is actually my first ever visit to LA. But it’s probably from the photographs in the TV room and in James’ study. I’m in two of them. Plus, Audrey and I have the same eyes.’ ‘Oh . . . the photographs. That must be it,’ Nicole said, a hazy memory playing at the edge of her mind, but not quite materializing. A distant cellphone ringtone broke the awkward silence that had followed. ‘Is that your
backrest and zip-tied at the wrists. Her whole body was covered in blood. Blood that had come from her face and cascaded down her torso and legs before soaking the carpet beneath her feet. A face that simply wasn’t there anymore. ‘Her face was sanded off.’ The words came from the forensics agent who was by the high-powered lamp at the east end of the room. He was about six-foot one, with an athletic body, high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Unlike Hunter and Garcia, he wore no nose mask. The
now?’ Garcia asked, his eyes moving to the staircase to the left of the counter. The severely worn-out red and black carpet that lined the stairs was ripped at the edge of every step, some of it so badly Garcia was certain it would constitute a health hazard. Moreno shook his head. ‘No, he isn’t. I haven’t seen him for . . .’ He paused and looked up at the cobwebs on the ceiling, as if the answer was up there with all the dust. ‘Five, six days, maybe? Maybe less, I’m not sure. Last time I saw