Book: The POLITICS of MURDER by Reece Pocockcategories: Book, Politics, Nuclear Waste, Corrupt Politicians, Detective Dan Brennan, Police Procedual, Para Military, Desert Danger, Sex, USA, Australia, Prime Minister, US President, Crime Fiction
Reece Pocockabout this book: Constable Mark Jenkins sensed a presence, and lifted his head. He wondered if it was a dream, because a strange apparition stared at him out of the dark. At first Mark didn't understand the danger, a face covered in night vision goggles sighted down the unusually long barrel of a handgun at him. Something was different, then it hit him, the weapon had a silencer. He heard a sound to his right where Brian slept. It took him a few moments to understand it was a gunshot from a silenced weapon. The moonlight showed a grinning face beneath the goggles. All he could think about was he didn't want to die.
Earlier that day, Mark had driven the Toyota Landcruiser down the track at the head of a dust cloud like a ship forming a surging wake on a calm sea. The brown smudge rose on the light breeze and spread out over the landscape.
'What time is it? I can't read the clock with all that dirt on it,' Mark asked.
Senior Constable Brian Cross examined his watch; he had to wipe the dial clean with his thumb, 'After four. Keep going for another hour and look for a camp site.'
Dust floated inside the cabin, spreading over the interior including the two men. The covering dirt made it difficult to make out their faces. Various weapons, camping gear, and police equipment were fixed to the cruiser's interior as well as scattered over the back seat.
Sweat ran down Mark's brown face onto his Western Australian Police uniform. He slipped his hat onto the back of his head as he drove.
'I hate duties like this one, another bloody wild goose chase,' said Mark. 'All we do is drive around and talk to a few miners and wandering tribes. The action's in Broome, not driving through this bloody dust.'
'Don't your people come from out this way?' Brian inquired.
'Nar, a few tribes might wander around, but no one lives here. It's a lot better further north, nearer to the Kimberleys where my people live,' explained Mark.
'Arse end of the world,' said Brian.
'My people survived in land not much better than this for thousands of years. There's a lot more to it when you walk, instead of racing along in a car.'
'You can have it,' said Brian.
'Reckon we'll find those crims Sarge thinks are out here?'
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