Read The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller Online
Authors: Adele Asher
As the Russians got out to see what had happened the C4 exploded. I leapt back taking cover under the desk as the fireball ripped the full height of the building smashing the entire curtain of glass windows and filling the building with smoke.
I got up, dusted myself off and peered over the balcony. There was now a sizeable crater in the car park where the remnants of the now burnt out GL’s wrecks remained. The charred and bloodied remnants of the Russians were scattered across the tarmac and in the burning hedgerows lining the office perimeter.
“They have
got
to be running out of bad guys,” I told myself wondering exactly how big Anatoly’s army must be given the body-count that had already been racked up.
The phone rang. I thought about not answering it but it was probably his wife and the decent thing to do was tell her that her meal ticket was now distributed all over the car-park shrubbery.
“Hello. Mr. Sorensson can’t take your call right now. Unfortunately he’s in pieces.”
“That is very disappointing,” replied the dry Russian on the other end.
“Can I take a message?”
“Actually I have a message for you. From your friend Mister Salinger.’’
“Anatoly I presume…”
“And you must be the young lady who killed my brother…”
“If you’ve hurt Nick I’m going to do much worse to you.”
“Really Miss you are in no position to make threats,” he said with a slow laugh.
“Listen Anatoly. You really need to ring
0800-More-Russian-Goons-Please
because these last guys you sent are all fucked up now.”
“You are interfering with my business one too many times. I can promise you this will be the last time.”
“Let Nick go and we can put all this behind us and go our separate ways.”
“Not possible. There is the small matter of an unsettled debt.”
“Mister Sorensson was under the impression there are no guns, if there are no guns then there is no debt.”
“We have a different kind of deal opportunity now. We aren’t trading guns. We have something much more valuable…your friend Mister Salinger.”
“If you hurt him I swear to God I will cut your throat.”
“My dear girl there is no need to be so abrupt. I am a businessman. I have no desire to hurt your friend, I merely wish to be recompensed for the loss of my employees your constant interference has caused me.”
“How much?”
“Four million Euros was the deal we agreed with Mister Van Sant. I will trade you Mister Salinger for four million Euros. To settle the debt with my brother I will take either your life or another four million.”
“I can promise you your brother’s life was not worth four million Roubles let alone Euros.”
“Lucky for me your life is much more valuable. Do we have a deal?”
“You promise you won’t hurt him? You even put a scratch on him and I will fuck you up beyond repair.”
“You have my word. It’s not in my interest to hurt your friend. Bring eight million Euros to your house in Geneva tomorrow. I will call you there and arrange the exchange.”
“And then this thing between us is over?”
“You have my word.”
“That’s not worth very much.”
“Geneva. Tomorrow. Eight million Euros. Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal.”
The line went dead. With the front of the building now ablaze and the blue lights approaching I ran for the lift and headed to the basement garage. As the lift doors opened I checked the coast was clear before running back to the G-Wagen and throwing my bag in the boot.
I got in the drivers seat and was about to start the car when I felt the unmistakable cold, hard steel of a pistol nuzzled into my neck. I slowly lifted my hands off the wheel.
“Hello again,” Roy said with a sneer. “Did you miss me?”
“Roy. You simply will not just fuck off will you?” I said annoyed.
“You’ve made a right mess of those Russians. I take it you got the money from Erik before you threw him out his office window?”
“What do you think?”
“So you got all your money back? Very clever girl. I’m impressed. You’ve done me a favour. Got it all in once place for me. Now I have you and you have the money. There is nothing like a happy ending.”
“You aren’t getting any more happy endings off me Roy I can promise you that.”
“Now don’t be like that. The money. Where is it?”
“Somewhere you can’t get at it.”
“I already found the money in the boot. Really, I expected better. Leaving all that cash in the back of a car. You really should have locked it.”
“I was in a hurry.”
“That will do for a down-payment. I want the rest of it.”
“No chance.”
I felt the sharp thud of pain as Roy hit me over the back of the head with his pistol, then I blacked out.
Chapter 22
I WOKE
up to find myself laid face-down across the back seat of the G-Wagen, my hands and feet were bound and I had a splitting pain across the back of my head where Roy had brutally knocked me unconscious. I tried to focus as my vision blurred into reality. It was night and we were on the motorway. Roy was driving and whistling to some music on the radio.
Careful to avoid him spotting me in the rear mirror I slowly moved behind him before quickly raising my bound hands over the top of his head and pulling them sharply back on his neck to strangle him against the headrest. Roy gagged and swerved across the three lanes of the Autobahn causing two cars he was overtaking to crash into each other to avoid the G-Wagen as we careered across the carriageway.
“Stop the fucking car Roy!” I shouted pulling back on his throat throttling him as hard as I could.
Roy sawed violently at the steering wheel from left to right trying to shake me loose but I hung on for grim life. Finally he slammed the brakes fully on. The large AMG discs arrested the two-ton SUV bringing it to a smoking halt in the middle of the carriageway. Without a seatbelt on the negative G-force slammed me forwards, I lost my grip on Roy and catapulted towards the windscreen banging my head on the dashboard as the car came to a halt. Roy gasping for air grabbed me roughly by the hair and pulled my head backwards. I did my best to fight him off before he punched me twice in the face causing my nose to explode painfully in a pool of blood. I yelped in pain before he threw me back into the rear seat. Infuriated he took out a pistol and pointed it at me.
“Sit down and behave yourself or you
will
get hurt!” he growled at me angrily in his native provincial accent having lost all trace of his fake Etonian tone.
I looked at him scornfully as cars careered past us horns screaming. He pulled over angrily to the hard shoulder and got out then opened the rear door and dragged me out onto the carriageway by my hair. I kicked and thumped at him trying to free myself from his hold.
A passing van driver clearly concerned by this apparent scene of motorised domestic violence pulled in behind us and two beefy builders got out and ran over to assist shouting at Roy in German.
“Fuck off back into your van! This is none of your business!” he barked at them.
“Leave the girl alone!” one of them replied in heavily German accented English.
“Please help me!” I shouted at them. “He’s a mad rapist! He’s kidnapped me and is going to rape and murder me!”
Roy backslapped me to the ground.
“Shut up bitch!” he shouted at me irking the Germans even further.
“Hey man! Don’t hit her like that! Let her go!” they protested as they ran at him to restrain him.
Roy pointed his pistol at them and shot them each twice. I tried to compose myself. Despite the pain I refused to give him the satisfaction of crying but couldn’t stop the tears already rolling down my cheeks.
“You see the trouble you’ve caused? You’re
always
causing trouble! I should just get rid of you now,” he said seething with rage as he pointed the pistol at me and cocked it angrily.
I defiantly wiped the blood streaming from my nose and scornfully looked at him.
“But then you won’t get your fucking money will you Roy?”
The mention of payment seemed to calm his mood and focus his attention on his goal.
“Get in the fucking car! You try this shit again and I’m going to fuck you up
properly
!” he told me.
I pulled myself up and hobbled back and got into the car. Roy slammed the door shut and got back then accelerated away furiously slamming his hand against the steering wheel with frustration.
“Why do you have to be like this?” he spat.
His face was now red with rage.
“You bloody started it!” I protested.
“You are spoilt! You want
working
on!”
“You’re a thief Roy. That’s all you are, a simple petty thief.”
“Oh I don’t think so! I’m more than that! I’m going places!” He cackled manically.
“The crematorium or a three-foot shallow grave in a remote woodland by the time the Russians get you.”
“I don’t think so luv!”
“There are no guns. You know that don’t you? They’re setting you up. You killed one of their guys and this whole thing is a setup to get you.”
“Bollocks,” he spat.
“Think about it Roy. This whole stupid plan you have to blow up freighters and make billions. Exactly what do they need you for? It’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit. You killed their guy. They are setting you up. That’s the truth.”
Roy’s anger and fury dissipated into paranoia.
“Yeah? Then why is your man after me as well? Why do MI6 want me eh?”
“Because you whacked one of their guys too. You’ve got nowhere to run Roy. Everyone is after you. You are fucked.”
“I don’t think so! I’ve got money. Your money. I’m going to South America. They wont find me.”
“They’ll find you wherever you go.”
“Anyways they think you did it!” he laughed pleased with himself.I shook my head. “No. I told them. I told them you did it. I’m clever you see. I’m one step ahead.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Listen just shut-up right? I know what you are trying to do. It’s not going to work. You are gong to hand over the rest of the money then I’m out of here.”
“I’m not giving you any more money. They have Nick. The Russians.”
“Well boo-fucking-hoo for him.”
“Why did you do all this Roy?
Roy Jones
from
Luton
. What on earth possessed you to start playing at being an international espionage agent and go around whacking spies? Have you any idea the shit you have got yourself into?”
“It’s a
game
isn’t it? That’s all they do play a
game
. I met this guy right, Van Sant. I was contracting in Iraq fixing electrics on oil rigs. He was in this bar. Drunk he was. Mouthing off how he was this big man. Pretty birds, money and all that shit. I went back to his place. He had this list. Being paid
a million
a pop to do these geezers in. I thought
I could have a bit of that
. So I did him in. Took his place.”
“And it’s really worked out well for you…”
“Listen right, if I hadn’t have done all this I would still be in Luton putting up light fittings for fifty quid a day. I’m
sorted
love. You don’t need to worry yourself about that. Anyway you fell for it. Doesn’t say much for you does it eh
little Miss Chelsea
?”
“So what are you going to do now then?”
“You hand over the money and I’m gone. I’ll let you live. You don’t hand over the money I’m going to take what’s left of your four million back there and I’m still gone. It’s up to you. Fuck the Russians mate.”
“If I give you the money they will kill Nick. I’d rather die than live without him so go to hell. I’m not giving you a penny more.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
“What’s he got? What’s he got that I haven’t got eh?”
“Everything.”
“Well he hasn’t got four million has he? So he’s still fucked.” Roy sneered.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Geneva.”
“Why?”
“I left Charlotte there.”
“That figures…”
“What?”
“She’s just about dumb enough and blonde enough to fall for your bullshit even when the truth is staring her in the face.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Everything.”
“Well it doesn’t mean nothing. She’s a
good
girl is Charlotte. Not like you.”
“What do you mean
not like me
?”
“You’re one of those birds that thinks you are above everyone else. Think you’re
special
. Blokes like me aren’t good enough for you. You’re shallow, you just want some rich prick who owns half of Norfolk.”
“Bullshit.”
“Really? I know your sort, I see you every day in your Bentleys and your fancy shoes. Thinking you are
all that
.”
“Ironic. That’s exactly the sort of girl Charlotte is.”
“No she ain’t! She’s different. That’s why she was with that rapper. Thanks for that by the way, I knew you and me had no future so I needed him out the way.”
“And do you think if you didn’t have my money she would still be interested in you?”
“Course she would.”
“Bullshit. I have known Lottie a lot longer than you have and I can tell you straight she’s a one-woman gold-digging franchise. Without your money you are nothing to her. Just some bum sparky from a shit provincial town.”
“Shut it! You are just jealous.”
“I promise you I’m
so
not jealous. I think you make a lovely couple. I wish you a lifetime of perfect unhappiness together, but you can do it without my money.”
“And what’s so
special
about your spy? You always had a thing for those sorts though didn’t you? That’s what made you so easy to play.”
“He’s a real man. Not someone pretending to be one.”
“And where is he now eh? You all beat up at the back of the bus and he’s nowhere to be seen.
Real Man
? He’ll be a real corpse pretty soon.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Just shut it. I’m sick of listening to your bullshit, I put up with listening to your bullshit for years.
Nag nag nag nag nag
. That’s all you fucking do.”