A week later the man known as the Salamander sat staring out at the River Thames, waiting for his contact to make the approach. He"d never met this man, Trench, but he knew everything about him; had in fact, co-ordinated his successful recruitment as a freelance killer into the Raven clan"s organisation. He knew the man"s face, his quirks, his tastes and his weaknesses. Especially his weaknesses…
Salamander was seated on a cast iron bench, a little way out from Westminster, near Blackfriars Bridge. He glanced lazily at that day"s edition of The Times. Hidden inside the pages of the newspaper and held in place by a small strip of Sellotape, was the envelope containing the information Trench had requested. It had taken Salamander"s "people" – trusted sources all of them – several days of di
