Antwerp, Belgium
The man was on edge. The final moments before he made an
exchange were tense. He had done it many times before. Yet
always he experienced the same feelings; his stomach turning
to liquid, the constant fear that customs or the police would
suddenly burst out of the darkness. He knew it was unlikely,
because those he worked for were well organised and it was a
small matter to pay off the right people to ensure they looked
the other way at the right moment.
This time though, the feelings were multiplied threefold. For
this was a rogue deal, one that would net him close to a
million dollars and ten times that for the buyers when the
drugs were cut if he succeeded; and he had taken every
precaution to ensure he did. It would mean his life if it went
sour. It was a gamble, and he knew the risks were extreme, but
the reward was more than he could hope to earn in several
lifetimes. As soon as the exchange was made and the money was
in his hands, he had made plans to leave Europe and start a
new life with a new face where no-one would recognise him,
beyond the reach of those who would inevitably try and track
him.
The merchandise was in a briefcase by his feet as he leant
against the door of the building, hidden by shadows. He was
deep in the forest, several miles outside the city. He looked
at his watch; the buyer was a few minutes late. Nothing out of
the ordinary, but this situation was far from ordinary.
He tensed as he heard the car approaching along the dirt road,
the dimmed lights filtering through the small gaps in the
trees. He waited silently until the car came into view, a
black Mercedes with darkened windows. He was unable to see
inside. The car wheels crunched on the gravel as it slowly
moved forward, eventually coming to a halt a few yards from
where the man remained hidden. He finally stepped out of the
shadows and took up a position to the side of the vehicle,
making sure he wasn’t blinded by the headlights.
He stared at the rear window, trying to penetrate the dark
glass and see who was inside. It was then that he sensed
slight movement behind him, but he had no time to react, no
time for fear. A strong hand gripped him under his chin and
lifted him off balance. He barely registered the sharp pain in
his back at first, but the serrated edge of the blade bit
deep. He tried to cry out, but his head was held in a vice-
like grip and he couldn’t open his mouth. Soon he felt
nothing, the waves of oblivion rolling over him.
The killer let his victim drop to the floor, stepped back and
wiped the knife’s blade on a small black cloth before placing
it in a specially designed inside jacket pocket.
Only then did the rear door of the Mercedes open. The man who
stepped out was immaculately dressed, his shoes shined to
perfection. He walked over to the body, his face impassive.
“Leave him for the scavengers”
The killer nodded.
“One more and then it’s done?”
“Yes”
“Show him no mercy”
London
Jack Talbot stretched expansively and stifled a yawn. The
carriage of the tube train was filling with commuters and
holidaymakers heading out towards the Heathrow terminals. Jack
was neither; instead being paid well to collect a diamond courier
from the airport and drive him across London for a few days. It was
the kind of job he favoured; low risk, high profit.
He had decided to take the Piccadilly Line out to
Heathrow where he could hire a suitable vehicle from one of
the many car rental firms situated in and around the
terminals. He had time to kill. His latest client was not due to arrive
until midday. Talbot looked at his watch; just after nine o'clock.
The journey on the tube would probably last another hour, leaving
him plenty of time to arrange the car rental and grab a bite to eat
before the long haul back into central London by road. He looked
over the shoulder of the lady sitting next to him and glanced at the
headlines in the paper she was reading. An armed robbery of a
Securicor van only a few miles from where he lived in south London
that ended up with one the guards being shot dead. An eye
witness stated one of the guards had tried to be a hero, managed
to strike one of the robbers in the face before being shot at
close range. It had also been headline news the previous
night. So far, the police had not tracked down the suspects,
four men in balaclavas who had escaped in two stolen vehicles
that were later found burnt out. It was a professional job,
even if the killing of the guard was over zealous and not
something that sat comfortably with the otherwise clean
execution displayed in the robbery. He shook his head,
settled back in his seat and shut his eyes, trying to catch up
on some lost sleep and block out thoughts of death.
Two hours later he had gone through the formalities of hiring
a vehicle from the receptionist at the Avis desk and
spent a king’s ransom on a cup of coffee and toasted sandwich
in a delicatessen.
He spent the remaining time familiarising himself with the
controls of the rental; a silver Volvo V40, testing the way
the car responded. A former police officer and advanced car
driver, Talbot knew how to handle most types of vehicle. He
didn’t know if his client would be travelling light or not,
but he had chosen a car with plenty of room to cover off
either eventuality.
Satisfied, he left the rental in the short stay car park and
ambled through the airport to the arrivals lounge, holding a
small placard with the name of his client, Paul Naylor,
scribbled in black felt pen. He found a space to stand in and
waited, watching the arrivals board along with dozens of
others, men performing similar duties to him and loved ones
waiting on relatives. The flight was on schedule, and a
trickle of people started to appear through the exit gates.
He noticed a man coming towards him. About his height, but
thinner in build, with dark drown hair to match the tan. The
surprise, albeit a pleasant one, was the woman accompanying
Naylor. She was tall, blonde and very striking. Talbot took
her in with a glance, not wishing to seem too obvious, but
evidently failing because he could see the trace of a smile on
her lips. Talbot smiled back, something he noted Naylor didn’t
miss. Looking Naylor in the eye again he didn’t see any
friendliness there. When they were close enough, Talbot spoke
first.
“Welcome Mr Naylor and Miss?”
“Just call me Karen”
“And I’m Jack Talbot”
“Where’s the car Jack?” Naylor, all business. Talbot
sensed an undercurrent of uneasiness.
“In the car park, about a five minute walk” he responded in a
neutral tone, not wanting to dislike his client, but sensing
he might just do so all the same. He offered to take their
hand luggage, all they were carrying, but they declined.
Talbot turned his back on Naylor and began walking towards the
exit. When they reached the car, Talbot popped the boot and
Naylor and Karen put their small bags inside.
Talbot got them moving on the M4 back in towards London, early
enough hopefully to miss the heaviest of the traffic.
“Right, where to?” Talbot asked, looking in the rear view
mirror and catching Naylor’s glance.
“Croydon, this hotel” Naylor said, holding a piece of paper in
his hand which he placed next to Talbot.
“Do you have any cigarettes Jack?” Karen this time.
Jack reached into his jacket pocket before replying.
“Sure, here you go” he said, passing them back, “the lighters
inside the packet”.
He watched her in the rear view mirror and she caught him
looking, her gaze holding his for longer than it should have
done. He pulled his eyes away first, paying attention to the
road ahead of him.
After that they all lapsed into silence and few words were
exchanged. Talbot glanced occasionally in the rear view
mirror, but Karen seemed distracted, constantly looking out of
the window.
They made good time and arrived at the hotel. It wasn’t the
kind of place Talbot had expected, a little on the seedy side
perhaps; and not really in common with either Naylor’s or
Karen’s appearance. He gave a mental shrug and accompanied
them to the entrance. Where they stayed wasn’t really his
concern after all. Once inside, the receptionist greeted
Naylor and Karen like old friends, handing over a key to
Naylor, who promptly walked over to the lift and called for
Karen to join him.
“Do you need me again today?” asked Talbot.
The reply from Naylor was brusque, as expected.
"No tomorrow at midday outside the hotel"
Talbot nodded and watched as the lift doors closed. He turned
and left the hotel.
Forgetting about Naylor and banishing any immoral thoughts
about Karen, Talbot switched his attention towards Tanya, his
girlfriend. He looked at his watch, knowing he had enough time
to run some errands before collecting her and taking her to
Paddington. She was travelling down to Swindon for a two-day
training course. He used his mobile and smiled when he heard
the familiar voice answer.
“Hi sweetheart, it’s me”
“Jack where are you?” said Tanya.
“On my way, just a few things to do first. I’ll be a couple of
hours OK?”
“Alright Jack, see you soon”
As Talbot pulled away from the kerb, the man who had followed
him from Heathrow Airport made a call. He punched into his
mobile phone the number he had memorised. He debated for a
moment whether to tell his contact about the woman, but then
decided against it. He’d only wanted to know when Naylor
arrived at the hotel.
The line rang twice before being answered with a curt “yes”.
“Naylor is in the hotel” he said.
“Understood” was the only reply, before the line went dead.
After taking the phone call, the contact also made a call,
which was answered immediately.
“Kezman”
“Naylor has arrived”
“Thank you Mr Newton”
“Remember our agreement”
“Always”
Kezman smiled to himself. Sometimes working for two paymasters
made life complicated.
