The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller (20 page)

“What they doing here? You don’t think they are planning to hit Roy as well do you? That could get messy.”

“No I don’t think so. Probably making sure he is getting the money. After what happened at the hotel they will be nervous.”

“What about our plan?”

“Nothing changes.”

“But the Russians? After Switzerland you will understand my reluctance for a further encounter with them.”

“We’ll just have to deal with them as the situation arises. Adapt,” Nick said.

“That’s easier said than done with Russians. Persistent Bastards.”

I finished my pancakes and poured a cup of tea, as I did so I noticed a black Audi S8 approaching from the opposite direction wearing Swiss plates. In the shadow behind the tinted UV windscreen was the clear outline of Johnny Van Sant AKA Roy the sparky from Luton accompanied by bitchpants Charlotte.

The deep sense of anger that was bubbling inside me clearly showed on my face. Nick looked at me and turned around to see what I was looking at and spotted the car.

“It’s too late to change our minds now Russians or not, here comes the prize.”

We watched as Roy drove up and parked outside the bank. He spoke briefly to Charlotte inside the car then got out and looked around the street suspiciously.

Nick and I immediately moved into an embrace to cover our faces but luckily he was paying more attention to the Russians. 

“How do we do this?”

“You get in the back of his car and hold Charlotte. If he sees you before he gets the money out we’re blown. He doesn’t know me so I’ll go in the bank. When he returns to the car I’ll take him down.”

“Exit?”

Nick looked around the street.

“It’s too narrow to turn around. We are going to have to go straight down past the Russians.”

“That could get messy.”

“It’ll be okay. Audi S8’s are built like tanks. We will come off better.”

“Well that’s the theory.”

We watched as Roy went into the bank. I looked at Nick my heart racing, body full of adrenaline.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“No heroics. It’s only money. Its not worth your life.”

I nodded. 

I put what Euros we had left folded up on a plate to distract the waiter long enough that we had actually paid and checked my pistol under my jacket.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We got up quickly and walked across the street. As we reached the car we separated, Nick walked smartly into the bank and I opened the back door and got in Roy’s car from the drivers side taking out my pistol as I did so. Charlotte turned around in surprise.

“Hello Charlotte. Having fun are we?” I said and cocked the pistol then put it to her head.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

I gave her a fake smile.

“A little bird told me Roy is here to make a large withdrawal. If it’s all the same with you Charlotte I would like my money back.”

“Who is Roy?” frowned Charlotte.

“Oh. he hasn’t told you? Oh dear Charlotte. Your choice in men is really quite poor these days isn’t it? First the rapper and now Roy, it’s not getting better for you.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You will Charlotte. You will,” I said and pistol whipped her with the gun knocking her out which was incredibly satisfying as well as serving the useful purpose of not having to worry about her jumping out of the car screaming or causing a nuisance of herself during the inevitably difficult getaway. 

The glass of the S8 was heavily tinted so neither the Russians nor Roy would be able to detect my presence. 

The minutes ticked by. I became nervous that something had gone wrong inside the bank. Maybe Roy had become suspicious of Nick and they had arrested him. Every bad scenario possible ran through my mind. I was almost relieved when Roy finally appeared with two bank employees carrying large bags that were presumably full of cash. My cash.

My heart stopped as they approached the car. If they opened the door this could all go horribly wrong. Luckily the tinted glass kept my presence a secret and Roy pressed the key-fob and the electronic boot opened. The banks men loaded the bags into the boot and slammed it shut with a thud then shook Roy’s hand politely before they headed back in the bank. Roy headed for the drivers door I aimed my pistol ready. 

Roy opened the driver’s door. Like a bolt of lightning Nick appeared from the bank pistol in hand, he rushed Roy and slammed him against the car hitting him heavily with the butt of his pistol to stun him. Nick grabbed the gun Roy had hidden down the back of his trousers and pulled the back door open and threw him into the car before jumping in the drivers seat. I put my gun to Roy’s head.

“Hello Johnny I said. “Or should I call you Roy?” I added icily. Roy’s face was a look of pure shock. Nick turned around and looked at me.

“If he so much as looks at you the wrong way blow his fucking head off…and hers.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” I replied.

“What the hell are you doing here!” Roy exclaimed in shock.

“Take one guess,” I told him before knocking him out using my pistol with a single blow to the back of his head.

Nick fired up the S8 and floored the throttle shooting out of the parking space.

We were approximately fifteen car lengths from where the Russians were parked. The street typical of most in Monte Carlo was narrow with lines of parked cars restricting the gap even further. At nearly seventeen-feet long there was very little chance Nick would be able to perform a three point turn to exit the preferred opposite direction so instead we had to confront them head on with only two possible positive outcomes. With a zero to sixty of four and a half seconds Nick could get enough speed up to pass the Russians before they had a time to realise what was going on and pull out to block our exit or Nick would get enough momentum to ram them.

Despite Nick’s assurances that the bulk of the S8 would be a match for the S Class I had my doubts, they only had to block the road fully and even the brute force of the big Audi would be brought to a standstill by the equally tough Teutonic Mercedes. 

The S8’s Lamborghini designed V10 engine made a sonorous wail as Nick floored the throttle. Sadly the Russians were completely on the ball and had spotted Nicks street assault. As he approached they pulled the Mercedes out and blocked the street. Thinking better of his plan to ram the Russians Nick stamped on the brakes and the vast carbon-ceramic discs grabbed the charging German super-saloon and dug it into the concrete coming to a standstill in a plume of expensive Michelin tyre-smoke. 

“Shit,” said Nick aware the path was blocked. 

He checked his mirror then slammed the auto gearbox into reverse, twisted around and floored the throttle. The car lurched backwards almost as fast as it had gone forwards.

“Look out Nick!” I yelled as the Russians who had now exited their car were pointing pistols at us. They opened fire and sparks flew off the bonnet as the first rounds fell before the following rounds shattered through the windscreen missing Nick’s head by inches. Nick did his best to back up at full speed but the sheer width of the S8 and difficulty of controlling the car in reverse made the task almost impossible as he clipped several wing mirrors and sideswiped passing cars but with four million in hard cash in the boot it was no time to worry about the paint work. 

Reaching a T-junction Nick slammed on the brakes again. The Russians decision to get out and shoot rather than pursue had opened up valuable seconds that allowed us to make our getaway. As they bundled back in the Mercedes at the bottom of the hill Nick turned left and headed downhill towards the harbour and casino tunnel.

“We need to lose them,” he told me although he needn’t have bothered, I was very aware of the fact. I checked in the rear view mirror and as Nick barrelled down the narrow street the Mercedes turned in at the top and gave chase.

“They’re following,” I told him.

Nick cut through the narrow streets and continued down to Mirabeau, drifting the four- wheel drive Audi round the tight turns of the famous grand-prix circuit as we headed towards the tunnel. We continued out of the narrow confines of the old town and through the long tunnel under the Hotel Paris and Casino then around the famous Piscine corner.

“We need to get up onto the Corniche and head for the E74,” Nick said throwing a map at me. 

The tight winding streets of Monte Carlo were no place to be hustling a large German saloon around but we’d managed to open up a large gap from the less powerful Mercedes.

“I think we lost them,” I told Nick. “Take the next right onto Princess Grace then turn left.”

Nick followed my directions and cut straight heading east towards Nice. We followed the road with Nick making fast progress cutting through the traffic before we merged onto the Corniche and headed north towards the Monaco tunnel and A8 that would lead us back towards Italy and on to Switzerland.

Realising we had managed to lose the Russians Nick slowed down into a gentler pace of driving to avoid attracting unwanted attention. As we rose up into the hills above Monaco I gazed out over the beautiful sea, with four million in cash in the boot I smiled to myself relieved that the nightmare in part, was at least over.

My eyes met Nick’s in his rear view mirror who saw me smiling and seemed to have a look of contentment on his face that he had done a good job.  I leaned forward and put an arm around him and gave him a long kiss. I didn’t have to say anything. We both knew what we had achieved against all the odds. I turned my attention briefly to Roy. Lying slumped unconscious in the back of the Audi I wondered what it was about this pathetic creature that had convinced me to do the things I had done that got me here. 

In the cold light of day alongside Nick I could not imagine what had possessed me to ever consort with him even under the allure of his
Johnny Van Sant
pseudonym. 

One thing I was absolutely certain of. He was going to suffer for the misery he had inflicted to my life over the past week.

Reaching just short of the junction for the A8 autoroute and satisfied we had lost our tail Nick pulled in to a quiet discreet parking spot. He killed the engine then got out and lit a cigarette. I got out of the back of the car to join him, wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a big hug.

“Quite a day,” I said.

“Quite a week,” he replied.

He nodded at the boot. I smiled and walked over and opened it. Nick walked over to join me as I unzipped the bags to reveal bundles upon bundles of five hundred Euro notes.

“I know it’s my money but I’ve never actually seen it before.” I took out a large wad of the notes and flicked through them and smiled at Nick. “At least you can buy me dinner.” I tucked it in his jacket pocket and smiled.

“Let’s get out of here.”

We dragged Charlotte from the front passenger seat and Nick tied her up with Roy. We got in the front and pulled onto the autoroute in the direction of Switzerland. Roy tied and gagged looked pitiful and pathetic. As he whimpered I turned around and scowled at him.

“Not so clever now are you Roy,” I said as I hit him as hard as I could with the pistol to knock him out.

Chapter 17

WE STOPPED
at a small town in Italy close to the Swiss border. The Audi’s windscreen peppered with bullet holes would take far too much explaining to the border guards and made driving at night impossible as headlamps lit up the starburst cracks turning the glass opaque.

Nick dropped me at a small discrete motel. Ensuring we weren’t being watched we dragged Roy and Charlotte into the room. Nick tied them up in the bathroom.

“I need to get to the dealer before six. We can’t leave them alone. Are you going to be okay here?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied. ‘They don’t pose much of a threat.”

“I wasn’t worried about them.”

“I won’t do anything untoward. I promise.”

Nick kissed me goodbye and departed heading for the nearby Audi dealer to source a replacement windscreen. I threw a bottle of water over Roy to wake him up. He was dazed and confused. I pulled up a spare chair.

“Boot. Other foot eh Johnny…Sorry, Roy.”

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened. It was nothing personal. Just business. You were an opportunity. I took it. I’m sure we can work things out.”

“So let’s start with the basics. Who are you?”

Roy appeared uncomfortable.

“I’m nobody. Really I’m just nobody.”

“Why me?”

“I didn’t really plan it. It just happened.”

“Who are you working for?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. Whatever you are planning to do to me they will do worse.”

“The Russians?”

Roy shook his head.

“Charlotte’s Pa?” I asked. Roy didn’t answer. “You’ve got yourself into a right mess. Oh I know all about your shady little enterprise.”

“He told you? Who is he?”

“He’s everything you are not,” I said. 

Roy nodded. 

“MI6.”

“Ironic isn’t it? The very thing you wanted to be brings about your downfall.”

“I didn’t know they were onto us.”

“Well they are. You might have duped me into your false persona unfortunately you lack the tradecraft to outdo the professionals.”

“He is going to kill me isn’t he?”

“He’s not the one you have to worry about.”

“Of course.”

“When you left me in Hackney I wanted to kill you the next time I saw you. Lucky for you I met someone who has more rational judgment.”

“You love him?”

“I should thank you really. Not that I will you thieving toe-rag.”

“So you got what you wanted. A genuine spy. How’s that working out for you?”

“Very well. What about you with little miss hooker face here?”

Roy shrugged his shoulders.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“There is no chance we can just let it go is there?”

“You still owe me several million Euros.”

“I wondered where you were taking us.”