Scion (28 page)

“I hope you enjoyed your stay,” the stewardess checked the boarding card and passport,
“Miss Martinez.”

“Couldn’t have wished for better
, thank you.”

Miss Long’s driving licence had disappeared to the bottom of the Caribbean sea along with her rifle and radar system.
Miss Martinez would last until Amsterdam where she would disappear never to be seen again. She was not one of the world’s most prolific assassins for no reason.

As she waited patiently for take off
, a slight tremor in her bag announced the arrival of a new message. Retrieving her small blackberry-like device, she noted with some surprise her new target referred to simply as PM, London.

Chapter 48

Scott
’s little detour involved a taxi, a bus, two ferries and a taxi and was nothing short of a major diversion. Their ultimate destination was Bandar Seri Begawan, the capital of Brunei which Ashley now knew was just South of Sabah and five hours away if you didn’t have a passport or forty minutes by plane if you did. Ashley had tried to understand what difference a lack of passport made in Brunei but Scott was staying tight-lipped offering nothing more than a ‘you’ll see’ response which, after a number of hours, had infuriated her so much that she didn’t even care any more what they were doing.

As the taxi pulled to a stop at the airport
, Ashley couldn’t help but wonder what they were going to do. She still didn’t have a passport and they needed to get to Geneva, preferably unannounced.

“I just need to make a quick call,” announced
Scott as he stepped out of the cab.

Ashley followed
Scott as he made his way to the nearest call box. Two minutes later, he was leading her down a corridor and through a door marked ‘no entry’, another ‘no entry’ door and before long they were both stood at the foot of steps leading to an aircraft.

Scott
, without hesitation, began to climb and was welcomed warmly by a man dressed in a captain’s uniform. Ashley followed and shook the captain’s hand as he offered it to her and as she stepped beyond the captain, an equally impeccably dressed stewardess guided her into the body of the aircraft. The captain shut the door behind them.

Ashley stared in disbelief as she realised they were the only two passengers on
the huge and it seemed very private Boeing 747 VIP, one of the newest products available from Boeing. The 747 VIP was based on the latest configuration of the Jumbo 747-800 Intercontinental and was the ultimate private jet, the perfect accoutrement for one of the world’s richest men, the ultra rich Sultan of Brunei. 

After showing
Scott and Ashley to their seats and offering them a drink, the stewardess disappeared.

“O
K, what the fuck is going on?” asked Ashley, a cocktail glass in hand.

“Let’s just say
the Sultan owes me a favour.” Scott took a sip of his cocktail and smiled as the plane began to power down the runway. “Next stop, Geneva,” he said raising his glass to Ashley.

Ashley however didn’t move
. “Enough now, just please tell me what’s going on,” pleaded Ashley, suddenly realising what ‘sure travesty’ meant. She had misheard what he had said, it had obviously been ‘your majesty’.

“OK, OK.”
Scott downed his cocktail in one and turned to face Ashley.

“I’m an assassin for the British government,” he said completely straight faced.

Ashley looked deep into his eyes and waited for him to crack but after a few seconds gave up.

“Fuck off, just tell me what’s going on, enough of the games.”

Before Scott could respond, the captain knocked on the wall as he approached, announcing his presence.

“Sir
, I hope you don’t mind my intrusion,” said the captain to Scott.

“Not at all,”
Scott turned towards the captain and smiled.

“I just wanted to offer my sincere gratitude for what you have done for my country and our highness
es, the Sultan and Crown Prince,” he said bowing deeply.

Scott
blushed and before he could speak, the captain continued. “May I also apologise for offering my gratitude as my highness asked that I do not say anything to you but as I was the pilot of the plane hijacked that night, I am also greatly indebted to you.”

Ashley didn’t know who to look at
, the captain or Scott.

“Please, it was nothing, I’m just happy nobody was hurt,” replied
Scott bashfully.

“You are too kind,
what you did that night required true courage and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” The captain bowed again and left.

Ashley just stared at
Scott in search of an explanation.

Scott
turned and looked out of the window.

“As I said, I’m an assassin for the British government. I solve problems that nobody ever wants to admit happen. I am the ultimate deniability
. I don’t exist within any organisation, I’m not an intelligence officer, I’m not a double ‘O’ agent. I’m an assassin. I only go in when all other options have been exhausted and even then only when it’s not appropriate for official involvement.”

Scott
turned back towards Ashley and noticed the doubt had gone and for the next few hours he told Ashley everything he could think of about his life. She too opened up and by the time they were nearing the outskirts of Geneva, both had opened themselves to each other like they had to no one ever before.

Although having talked for hours, their intimacy the previous night had not entered the conversation and without either saying it, they knew it had been a mistake. Not that they regretted it, far from it, it was just both knew they had to be on top of their game and any relationship would have to wait. Sex was off the menu at least until some serious revenge had been dished.

It was only as they were on the final approach to landing that Ashley remembered the words of the captain.

“So what exactly did you do to warrant this favour
?” she asked waving her arms around the cabin.

“
Oh nothing much, just rescued the Sultan’s eldest son from some crazed hijackers that were threatening to kill him.”

“
Nothing much?! Why you?” asked a very impressed Ashley.

“The hijackers took refuge in North Korea,
no official forces could go in. Myself, Kirk and Kyle went in as mercenaries by HALO (High Altitude Low Opening parachute jump). We killed the hijackers and flew the plane out without the Koreans ever knowing we were there.”

“Holy shit!”

“Not really, just a bunch of two-bit amateurs trying to make a quick buck.”

Ashley had a feeling
Scott was underplaying his part ever so slightly.

Both were surprised when the call from the captain announced their imminent arrival in Geneva
. The control tower noting the royal call sign had cleared the plane for landing and cleared its route to the VIP reception centre.

Within minutes
, the plane had powered down and the front door opened to allow Ashley and Scott to leave the plane. Thanks to a call ahead from the Sultan, passport control was unmanned and after a cursory welcome from the manager of the VIP reception area, they exited the building and were met by a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce.

“It seems the Sultan is very appreciative
of your nothingness!” exclaimed Ashley as she climbed into the back of the luxuriously appointed car.

“Hmm,”
said Scott refusing to rise to the bait.

The chauffeur turned as he closed the door and
said. “The Sultan has reserved a suite for you at the Rocco Forte Le Richemond. I hope this will be OK.”

Scott
turned to Ashley who, checking the time, nodded her agreement. It was at least eight hours before the bank would open.

Chapter 4
9

Dan
kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the huge sofa that dominated the lounge of the Conrad Hilton Suite. The dinner had been a great success. His speech went down a storm with both the guests and more importantly the press. Initial polling showed an increase of two points and that was only on the back of the initial television reports. After the morning papers, that would rise further.

“Can I get you anything before I head off?” asked John Harding,
Dan’s campaign manager.

“No thanks, I’m just going to watch the news and hit the sack.”

“OK, well I’ll see you in the morning.”

A
s he headed towards the door and to his own room, he stopped. “Oh I almost forgot, Max Ernst has been calling, he said it was urgent.”

Dan
pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial button for Max. It was answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hello?” said Max.

“Hi, it’s Dan, what’s up?”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes…”

“I’ll be there in one minute
,” said Max breathlessly.

“But I’m in Chicago
.”

“I know
, I’m on the floor below you but nobody knows I’m here. I’m coming right up.” Max hung up.

Dan
was left wondering what the hell was going on. Max was unflappable and from the day he had met him, Dan knew he was a man that would prove invaluable to him. His position as right hand man to Henry Freeman had been carefully and skilfully engineered. Max Ernst was Dan Baker’s eyes and ears not only in Transcon but also amongst the shareholders. Henry Freeman trusted him implicitly, unfortunately the trust was not reciprocated. Max knew who was boss and his allegiance had (and always would) lie with Dan Baker.

Dan
opened the door and was brushed aside by the over eager Max.

“Jesus, what’s the rush
?” exclaimed Dan, closing the door.

“Nobody can see me here,” Max scanned the room for anyone else before continuing
. “They’re on to us!”

Dan
stood back and watched as the man he had come to consider a rock, crumble before him.

“Just hold on, what
the hell are you talking about? And who exactly are they?”

Max poured himself a scotch from the bar
. “Hughes called me this afternoon, said he had come into some very interesting information and wanted to up his fee.”

“Hughes?”

“You know Stephen Hughes, the Director of National Intelligence.”

“Oh yes, weasely
little fucker,” nodded Dan.

“Anyway, it seems the President and National Security Adviser got him in a room with an FBI guy and told him about a huge conspiracy.”

“Really, what conspiracy?” teased Dan.

“Ours!”
blurted an exasperated Max.

“They’re fishing, they’ve got fuck all,” declared
Dan waving it away with a sweep of his hand. “Mind you, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing that could come back to me
. Also, he called the mobile registered in the name and address of a woman in Brooklyn.”

“Good,”
Dan paused, thinking. “Where is he now?”

“At home with a big fucking smile on his face, thinking he’
s just upped his take from us,” replied Max.

“Fine, cut him off, tell him his services are no longer required. That’ll wipe the smile right off his face. After I take office
, make it permanent. Until then, he doesn’t know enough to hurt us. It may mean some tough questions for Transcon but just put the lawyers on it and they’ll kill it off until I take office at least. Nobody blackmails us.”

Max
calmed down. Dan, as ever, was right.

The phone began to ring in the suite
. Dan looked at it. He had left strict instructions not to be disturbed. It continued to ring. Dan reluctantly picked it up.

“
What?” he snapped.

“I’m very sorry to disturb you
Sir but the caller is insistent that the call is a life or death emergency and will not stop calling.”

“
Who is it?” asked Dan his interest piqued.

“A Mr Eduardo Ramirez,
Sir.”

Chapter 50

It was 2 a.m. before they finally checked in and reached the suite which was more spectacular than they had imagined
. Located on the top floor, the Royal Suite seemed endless with three bedrooms and a grand lounge, surrounded on every side by large terraces. Despite their no sex pledge, they jumped into the same bed and with more than a little restraint managed to get through the night with little more than an occasional fumble. Meaning both were fresh and ready to leave at 8.50 a.m..