Deadly Game Read online

  PRAISE FOR MATT JOHNSON

  Longlisted for the CWA John Creasey (New Blood) Dagger

  ‘Terse, tense and vivid writing. Matt Johnson is a brilliant new name in the world of thrillers. And he’s going to be a big name’ Peter James

  ‘Utterly compelling and dripping with authenticity. This summer’s must-read thriller’ J S Law, author of Tenacity

  ‘From the first page to the last, an authentic, magnetic and completely absorbing read’ Sir Ranulph Fiennes

  ‘Out of terrible personal circumstances, Matt Johnson has written a barnstormer of a book in Wicked Game – one that fans of Chris Ryan, Andy McNab and Peter James will drool over. His first-hand experience of police work and counter-terrorist operations gives this page-turner a chilling authenticity that few others in the genre can hope to rival. But despite his police pedigree, Johnson also gets inside the terrorists’ heads to give them credible motivation. Nothing is clear-cut in a labyrinthine plot, which is gripping and which – despite thrills and spills aplenty – never falls short of believable. The ending is neatly tied up, but leaves the reader eager to follow lead character Robert Finlay’s further adventures’ David Young, author of Stasi Child

  ‘The magic mix of jeopardy, emotion and action. I could not put it down’ Louise Voss

  ‘Matt Johnson shows he’s been there, done it and worn the T-shirt in his first novel. Entertaining and gripping throughout, it is authentic writing at its very best. His ability to overlap reality with the fictional characters, from both a soldier’s and cop’s perspective is uncanny. Top-quality entertainment from a first-class writer’ D.N. Ex-22 SAS Regiment

  ‘A book by an ex-cop and -soldier has the potential to go wrong and fall flat due to it being all about inside knowledge that is tough to decipher by the public. This book isn’t like that. It is a genuine page-turner, very well written, and just flows from one scenario to the next. It is clear the author lived through these times and this is evident in knowledge and description. Excellent’ Ian Patrick

  ‘A former SAS officer finds himself a target of a terrorist cell years after he has left the forces, creating a fast-moving storyline. I was so gripped that I could not put it down. I loved the main protagonist, Robert Finlay, but I particularly loved his feisty wife, Jenny. I’ll be looking out for the sequel’ Segnalibro

  ‘The writing is direct: facts and histories stated, not left for the reader to pick over: there isn’t time to stop and sift the finer aspects of motivation – to do so would only slow the plot. Events cascade, ruthless killers spill into the open, and the agencies who should be tackling them are far less united and coherent than one might expect … You’ll enjoy this book if you’re into thriller and action: even if you think you’re not, the pace of the writing will carry you away. Robert Finlay’s not a man who gives up easily’ Blue Book Balloon

  ‘From the first page through to the last, the reader is completely hooked and drawn in by the writing and the descriptions; this is such an absorbing and thrilling read. The authenticity of the writing, and the knowledge of what happens in particular situations raises this above other thrillers. Wicked Game really does give you flash, bang, wallop, and, like bullets, no words are wasted, but hit the target every time. Matt Johnson is a new name in thriller writing and with his brilliant writing we have a new star’ Library Thing

  ‘A real cracker of a book and I have no hesitation to give it five stars. I look forward to reading more books from this gifted writer’ Bookworm

  ‘Finlay is an older male who is settled down with a wife and child and is feeling his age a little. He’s not some fit, handsome superhero. He’s an ordinary man, who has made career choices that have put him in extraordinary situations, which in turn have led him down a path where he has to face difficult decisions. It’s this normality about Finlay that appealed to me and kept me reading. The believability of the story. The authenticity’ Rebecca Bradley

  ‘An action thriller of the highest order that deserves to be read widely. It is hard to believe such an accomplished work is a debut’ Never Imitate

  ‘Despite having read hundreds of thrillers, it’s rare to find one with this level of authenticity and with some real passion behind the writing … I would describe Wicked Game as a thriller with a heart, and the story behind it and Matt’s own experiences are what makes it beat’ Book Addict Shaun

  ‘A gripping and quite frantic story of espionage, misplaced loyalties, revenge, retribution and double-crossing. With twists and turns, and red herrings at every corner, Wicked Game is an impressive debut’ Random Things through my Letterbox

  ‘The case is so intriguing, full of red herrings and twists, highlighting years of service by Finlay and his team, the trail of potential enemies left behind. This is in some ways a spy novel, with tantalising glimpses of M15 and Home Office interference. Above all else, though, Wicked Game is a tense, exciting thriller that presents Finlay’s gigantic effort to keep his family safe, trying to rediscover physical and military skills long put to rest, and facing seemingly insurmountable odds. The ending is stunning!’ For Winter Nights

  ‘Talk about a kick-ass novel! From the very first page, I was shocked into holding my breath. It reads like an action movie, but with all the bubbling tension in between, some of it so quiet and subtle that Matt lulls you into a sense of false security. Then BANG, he thumps you, shocks you, jolts you into submission, before doing it all again’ The Book Trail

  ‘This book oozes authenticity … when barely a week goes by without us hearing about terrorist attacks somewhere in the world, on behalf of some cause or other, it reminded me of the thanks and respect these men like Matt Johnson – some of whom pay a heavy toll; some of whom pay the ultimate price – are due from us’ Crime Worm

  ‘The sheer dogged determination of Robert Finlay provides one hell of an exhilarating ride, as he dodges bullets, explosives, and the shadows of his past, in this Wicked Game of cat and mouse. Expect nothing less than a thrilling journey, where secrets and revenge are delivered with guts and precision and the stakes are as high as they get – Finlay gives new meaning to the SAS motto of “Who dares, wins”’ Little Bookness Lane

  ‘It’s the first-hand experience of terrible events that really gives Wicked Game an unshakeable feeling of authenticity, which is woven deep into the fabric of the story’ Espresso Coco

  ‘I’ve always been a fan of thrillers, with the build-up of tension, the action-packed heroics and insane bravery. Wicked Game is a stonkingly accessible British thriller, with its roots firmly set in recent UK history and a strong sense of authenticity running through it’ Northern Crime

  ‘The story itself is a complex web that the police, security services and Finlay himself are all trying to untangle. It is never clear who can be trusted and what agendas they are trying to move forward, except for Finlay, whose fight for survival we follow most intimately through his own thoughts. The tension takes hold early on and never lets up as the danger gets closer to home and Finlay realises that only he can secure his family’s safety as he is forced to face his past up close and personal’ Live Many Lives

  ‘Matt Johnson has a very real talent and gift for thriller writing. Wicked Game cracks along at a great pace, with plenty of gripping and original plot twists and turns, and a finale that wouldn’t be out of place in a book with a protagonist called Reacher’ Mumbling about…

  ‘This is a breathtaking debut novel that will have you on the edge of your seat’ Thrillers, Chillers & Killers

  ‘Wicked Game builds the tension in an intelligent and emotional way, has many layers to both time, place and sense of character, and is basically a top notch “thriller” that has a dark heart and an emotional soul. It is not a book that will be read and then forgotten – this one
will stay with you. Excellent, thought-provoking, clever and beautifully written’ Liz Loves Books

  ‘With his first-hand real-life experience Johnson has an understanding of what was going on in the minds of his friends, superiors and even terrorists. This is translated into excellent psychological portraits of the main characters. Facts mixed with fiction and unclear boundaries between both are bases for moving authentic narration and brilliant storytelling’ Crime Review

  ‘Wicked Game is an absolutely brilliant new thriller, and the plot is fast-paced, twisted and exciting. Finlay is a man who is prepared to break all the rules to protect his family, but he is also very human and likable. I can’t praise Matt Johnson and Wicked Game too highly’ Promoting Crime Fiction

  ‘On every page, tension is carefully built, as a portentous revelation is offered or a memory smothered. Johnson litters his tale with the plotting equivalent of incendiaries: cops we don’t quite trust, a career that came abruptly to an end, a secret needing to be kept … Gripping stuff’ New Welsh Review

  ‘Matt Johnson delivers characters that feel pain, emotion and fear. There are some pretty sit-on-the-edge-of-your-seat moments because you know certain events are unstoppable and you can’t avoid watching them unfold. A cracking book right to the end’ From Dusk till Dawn

  ‘Fall headlong into a gripping and absolutely cracking story, featuring an ex-SAS, turned Met police officer, battling for his life … Johnson turns his knowledge into the most fabulous and readable story that just zings along with authenticity and exhilarating attitude. I’m excited to be in at the start of what promises to be a fabulous new series, and honestly can’t wait for the next!’ Love Reading

  Deadly Game

  Matt Johnson

  For Hannah, a special daughter and friend.

  And for Harley.

  To appreciate harmony, we must know war.

  To value freedom, we must know slavery.

  To find peace, we must vanquish the Devil at his chosen game.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Prologue

  1999. Romania

  The wind can kill.

  Relia Stanga recalled her father’s words clearly as she huddled against the stone garden wall for shelter.

  Winter was around the corner. The east wind was beginning to turn cold. Soon, she would need to take a chance and wait inside the house for the factory bus to arrive. In a few short weeks the winds from the east would bring snow and then, as Father had warned, it would be certain death to wait in the street for the six o’clock pick-up.

  One day, she prayed, summers would no longer be spent cutting and gathering wood to see them through to the following spring. One day, there would be food on the table every single day and she would not have to rely on mother for hand-me-down clothes.

  One day … with luck, she would find a new life.

  For now, Relia contented herself with wrapping her mother’s woollen coat tight around her slim figure, lifting the collar and making herself as small and as tight as possible.

  The wall provided the only protection from where she could see the approach of the bus. Miss the bus, no ride. Miss the ride, no job. Miss the job, go hungry.

  Home for Relia was a small village on the north-east edge of Romania, near the border with Moldova. She was now seventeen and had spent the previous day with the men, cutting logs. Huge piles were now stacked in the village stores and in shelters people had built in the yards at the rear of their houses. Most of the harvest had been sold. Father and her brother had left at first light to deliver the last of the summer maize crop. With the income, they would buy salted meats that would be eaten once a week with potatoes and root soup.

  On their return from the market, the men would be drunk. It was their release. They would meet friends, gossip, moan about the harvest, play cards and drink. Sorrows would be drowned with home-distilled ţuică. Relia’s father made his own from a family recipe using apples and plums. The women said it was the work of the devil, for the rage it sometimes brought out in the men.

  Father was a hard-working man, a good man. But the drink would release his pent-up frustrations and anger. Mother would always bear the brunt of his wrath. The children just kept out of the way. This was the way of men; they had to vent their rage, and using the women stopped them from killing each other. This was the way of things, as it always had been.

  But now, Relia had a plan.

  Every month or so, the factory would host men from the city. Men from Brasov and Bucharest. Men who wore suits, drove Mercedes cars and talked of incredible adventures.

  A friend who was a house servant to the wife of the factory owner told her the men came looking for girls. Relia could barely contain her excitement on learning these girls secured work in places in the city, in kitchens or waiting on tables. They had jobs, proper jobs, and they made enough money to keep some for themselves and send the rest home for their families.

  The men would choose the best-looking girls. To each they would give a small, yellow ticket. It was their approval
to ride in the warm van on its way to the city – their passport to a better life. The men were due today.

  Beneath her worn clothing, Relia was possessed of unusual beauty, and yet they had not noticed her. She was determined that would change. She was slim, pale skinned, and was blessed with shiny, raven-black hair that a woman in the village had recently cut into a neat bob. She had bought a little make-up, and her friend, the servant, had loaned her a dress that would show off her figure. The next time the men came to the factory, Relia was to help serve their drinks.

  The bus arrived. It was late, as always, and, as he always did, the driver drove fast to get the workers to the factory by seven o’clock. Relia snoozed on the journey. She didn’t mind the potholes, the tight bends, the heavy braking or the driver swearing. The bus was warm. For nearly forty minutes she could drift into a world where there was no cold, no hunger.

  When they arrived at the factory gates, Relia looked across to the owner’s house. On the drive she saw his car – a big four-wheel drive. Then she saw the Mercedes, a black one, and behind it, a black van. The city men had arrived.

  She checked her pocket, fearing she may have forgotten the powder and lipstick. It was there. As the factory gate opened, she saw her friend. There was a smile, then a wink. Today was the day. Today she was to have her chance.

  The day on the factory line passed slowly. Relia was a glue mixer. The factory made shoes. Leather imported from Mongolia was cut, shaped and stitched together by hand. Relia helped make the adhesive that would bind the upper parts of the shoe to the sole. It was easy work. Day after day she simply poured ingredients into containers in the prescribed measures and mixed them for the correct amount of time and at the right temperature. It was the heat of the glue room that made the job sought after in the winter and hated in the summer.