Remember Remember (11 page)

“White please.”

“Where are you sitting,” he enquired.

“Over there on the pool terrace, the second table in, next to that bloke smoking. I wish they wouldn’t do that at the tables, still at least we’re outside.”

He sat opposite and smiled at her, she looked good, a white trouser suit, buttoned at the front showing just a hint of cleavage. She was wearing enough gold to look good but not too over the top. Painted nails and open gold sandals completed her outfit, she looked slim and was tanning quite well.

“How do some women do that, they seem to go brown overnight, perhaps it’s tanning cream,” he thought, “still, she looks the part.”

She broke the silence, “Look, what happened upstairs earlier, I don’t know what you think, but I’m sorry.”

“I’m not and I’m pleased you mentioned it, because I thought it might have been a dream.”

“Maybe it was a dream.”

“No you definitely made a grab for my manhood and you know it could get you into all sorts of trouble and maybe me too. What’s a nice country boy like me to do being seduced by a townie like you, what would your mother say?”

“She’d probably have told me to give it a quick slap with a towel and turn over, but you don’t know if that’s safe anymore these days.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What, my mother?”

“Not your mother, the position.”

She changed the subject, “Let’s just see how things go eh.”

History had taught him that alcohol played an important role in his life in general and particularly in his sex life. Therefore his objective had to be careful consumption while encouraging others to consume sufficient to loosen inhibitions.

They sat outside the pool bar drinking Raki, the Turkish national drink introduced to them by Tungay the barman.

“It’s just like Pernod,” she coughed as she deftly picked the ice cubes from the drink, “mustn’t drink the ice cubes, mustn’t drink the local water, full of something or other,” she said, “I wonder if Turks and others are warned not to drink the water when they come to England,” she giggled as she consumed more Raki.

“It’s quite nice when you get used to it but it needs water,” she said gesturing to him as he rose to go to the bar, “please make sure the water you bring back is from the cool machine, and no ice please.”

He went back to the bar for more Raki and Tuborg lager. He finished his lager then turned to her and whispered, “it’s ten past eleven love, what do you want to do?”

“I’m easy, she replied then giggled, “no I didn’t mean that, oh what the hell, let’s go back to the room.” They held hands as they walked the terracotta tiled path back to their room and her head dropped onto his shoulder.

“Thank you Raki,” he thought as he opened the bedroom door.

“Will you rub some aftersun on my back please,” she said as she stripped off her white trouser suit and lay on the bed face down wearing a bra and French knickers. He squeezed the aftersun onto her shoulders and began to massage the cream into her skin working down to her bra. He undid it and pulled it apart without requesting permission. He worked down the small of her back and into the top of her knickers, applying more cream to her thighs and as the cream was massaged in, her thighs opened slightly allowing him to massage high into her inner thigh, then back down her legs.

“Racehorse legs and beautiful slim ankles,” he sighed to himself. “Turn over,” he grunted.

More cream was applied, his hands slowly massaging her legs up and down and into her French knickers, he was now openly massaging the very top of her inner thighs. She sighed, breathed deep and shifted slightly arching her bottom off the bed. Her knickers came off easily being kicked onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

He now shifted position, placing his head between her thighs, with both hands now exploring her labia, his head dipped and his tongue began to lap over her clitoris as her legs opened wider and she began to moan.

His hands now left her labia and ran up her body under her bra which was now thrown onto the floor. He thought, “good firm breasts with large erect nipples,” as his tongue worked over her clitoris and into her vagina making her moan again as she tried to push her thighs into his face.

His hands moved down her body and under her thighs to her buttocks, he caressed them parting them with his right hand and finding the opening to her vagina moist and warm, his thumb was gently inserted while his first finger explored her anus. Now she was openly moaning and writhing about as his tongue worked faster on her clitoris lapping at it while his right thumb explored her vagina and his left hand played with her right breast, squeezing and caressing its nipple.

“Oh my God this is good, Oh my God this is good, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Her backside now raised off the bed, her thighs wide open, her hands clasped the back of his head as she moaned and whimpered faster and faster to orgasm.

“I’ve come love, I’ve come,” she whispered. But he ignored her, still lapping at her clitoris and moving his fingers in her anus and vagina, suddenly her relaxation of orgasm had been replaced by a more frantic need to grasp his head and push it into her. The second orgasm came soon and now her exhaustion took over.

“Alan, Alan, I need a rest, please stop,” she gasped. He kicked off his sandals and took off his trousers and shorts, then lay on the bed next to her, took hold of her left hand and placed it on his erect penis.

“It’s a very long time since I’ve made so much love without having to feel one of these,” she sighed.

“So you’ve done this before then?”

“Not as much as you perhaps, considering the work you’ve done on me tonight.”

“I’d love you to suck me,” he whispered, “will you?”

She smiled, wriggled down the bed and pulled his foreskin tight back, opened her mouth and placed her lips below the head of his penis.

“Oh God, that’s good,” he gasped as he watched her pull up from his penis, straddle his legs, take hold of the base of his cock and slide down on it from above.

“Oh yes, yes,” he sighed as his hand began to caress the hair above her vagina and explore her clitoris again.

“Isn’t it beautiful the way a woman’s breasts bounce as she rises up and down on you,” he thought, “what a gorgeous sight and gorgeous feeling.”

“No smoking, no talking, no comparing, no drinks; just sleep eh,” he whispered.

“Yeah, let’s sleep,” she replied as she lay back on her bed.

He climbed back into his bed, covered himself with the single sheet, smiled at her and whispered, “Thanks Jacky.” She smiled back and responded, “Thank you too Alan. Good night.”

July 24
th
, 07.00, Syrian border with Turkey.

The Peugeot 307 carried 3 men through the border at Habur down to the town of Urfa. There lay ahead a difficult journey of 16 hours. The car contained Shan, Onar the chemist and a runner named Tikrit Abdul who was also the driver. Customs and border checks had been satisfied with the story of 3 men going to Olu Deniz to purchase a business and to relax at the town’s resort and they would arrive at the Karbel Hotel hopefully by midnight.

July 25
th
, 18.00, Pop Inn Cocktail Bar, Olu Deniz.

Alan sat at his usual table with the others who had arrived from Syria the day before. The runner would be informed later of his tasks which might include much driving, therefore sleep was his best option and giving him information only on a need to know basis made him superfluous to the meeting.

Shan had prepared well, three small factories had been found in the local area which fitted the requirements and were for sale for the right price. Also, being privately owned the take over and installation of Onar as factory manager would be simple.

Onar’s task was to choose the best possible site with regard to the factories suitability; such as security, access, privacy, workforce and export licences. Other factors would include how easily the WMD could be transported to the place and the availability of a laboratory suitable enough to mix the created formulas. Money would not be a problem, but speed of exchange and the above factors were critical. He would begin his search on the 26
th
, a bankers’ draft would be available to be presented to the bank of the seller’s choice and money would be transferred from Switzerland as needed.

Another round of drinks was ordered and the Peugeot arrived as arranged, driven by Tikrit at 20.00. The runner pulled up outside the Pop In and opened the doors for his guests.

Alan observed the street as he paid the bill and watched Tikrit climb back into the car, but as he did so, something silver fell from his pocket.

“What the fuck’s that?” he hissed.

Three seconds later he had the object in his hand, a Nokia mobile phone. He looked at Onar and growled, “I distinctly said no phones, what the hell is he doing with a fucking mobile?”

“I don’t know, I told him no phones,” exclaimed Onar.

“I’ll ride with you to the hotel and he can bring me back,” snapped Alan. “You can ask him why he has one and who he has called since he left Syria. I wish I could speak the fucking language. OK Onar, ask the fucking idiot.”

A heated discussion ensued and finally the car was outside the hotel. Onar turned to Alan and stated, the man is just a fool, he can’t do without his phone, he is in love, he needed to call his girlfriend, but he had only called her once that evening about seven.

“Shit,” hissed Alan and continued, “look we need to meet again as agreed. Onar you assess the three factories and open an account at the KOC and Guarantee banks in the company name of Lolts. Shan will ensure all monies are guaranteed from Switzerland,” he asserted then continued, “meet me again at the White Dolphin Restaurant at 1800 on the 27
th
. We’ll have a chance of some privacy before the Brits and Germans fill the bloody place.”

As the others left the car Alan opened the window and motioned to both Shan and Onar, “By the way, you will need another runner, please sort that out if you can, Shan,” he whispered as he bade them goodbye saying, “ Iyiaksamlar.”

Alan sat in the back of the Peugeot and as the car turned into a dusty quiet street about 500 yards long he tapped Tikrit on the shoulder.

The runner pulled over stopped the car and pulled on the handbrake. Alan looked ahead, behind and to the sides and thought, “It’s very quiet now, but this will have to be quick.” He leaned forward and slipped his left arm around Tikrit’s neck, while his right arm, at the inner elbow locked his left wrist. He automatically lowered his body and squeezed. Tikrit tried to move, his left foot straightened out hitting the accelerator, his hands grabbed at the encircling arm but ten seconds later his body went limp. Alan observed his surroundings keeping the grip. In a few more seconds life would cease for the runner. Ju jujitsu still had its uses. He pulled the body across the seat, and pushed it into the passenger well. He opened the rear door, slipped out and opened the driver’s door, released the handbrake, looked around and drove off.

“That was a bloody silly thing to do but I had no choice,” he grimaced, “all I need is another dead man on my mind not to mention the bloody body, but he was out of control, he knew the bloody rules, and broke them.”

“You don’t even have to try to moralise the issue,” He argued with himself, “just think of what the hell to do now.”

He concentrated his mind thinking, “What I need is time and space and to remember the basics.” He decided to drive toward the White Dolphin restaurant and a few minutes later the car entered the public car park below the restaurant.

In five minutes the decision was made. The road here climbed steeply for about one thousand feet, then became very narrow with frequent bends. He decided to pick a right hand bend facing the sea and push the car over the cliff, hoping that by doing this it might be believed the driver misread the curve and his right front tyre went over the edge.

“Might work, might not, but it’ll have to do,” he thought and then drove the car as close to the edge as possible, until he found a good hard surface. He stopped the car but kept the ignition running and checked for others who may be watching. He pulled the body behind the steering wheel, shut the driver’s door with the window open, clicked on the seat belt, put the gear stick into third, which stalled the car and as it leapt forward he rushed to the back and pushed it over the cliff. It fell, rolled over, hit a tree, fell further then somersaulted twice.

“Shit,” he thought, “no flames, no explosion.” The car then somersaulted again, hit a large rock and disappeared. It made lots of noise but didn’t explode.

“That didn’t fucking work as planned,” he muttered as he set off to walk back to Sun City. “Don’t go in the White Dolphin, go straight back, it’s still only 21.00,” he argued to himself. “Did you clean the car enough, I think so,” he mumbled, “but why the fuck didn’t it explode, it’s the bloody French engineering I suppose.”

“Still, the links to me and the others will be difficult even if there is suspicion,” he confirmed to himself, “a car and body bouncing one thousand feet down a hill may make identification difficult and cause of death even more so.” I emptied his pockets, the glove compartment, the seat and door pockets, even under the seats and the boot; in fact everything so it’s clean,” he thought as he walked into Sun City and up to the pool bar.