The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller (17 page)

“Nicky baby…” I cooed determined to have my wicked way with him. He walked round and I dragged him into the car on top of me.

“We don’t have time for this!” he protested as I grabbed at his trousers fumbling to get his buttons undone.

“We always have time for this otherwise what’s the point of time?” I told him kissing him and doing my best to arouse his fuckstick into action.

“Come on stop messing about,” he said.

I grabbed the door, pulled it shut and locked it.

“No! I mean to have my way with you. With or without your permission.”

“No means No!”

“You are a man. No always means yes in this context, the context being you have a large erection so are clearly well up for it.”

Reluctantly he stopped protesting and responded to my French kissing.

“That’s better,” I told him reclining the seat. 

Despite the Aston’s constraints we had a quick fifteen minutes of sexual pleasure before Nick climaxed and collapsed on top of me. 

“Now tell me that wasn’t fun?” I said giggling. 

“I’m not sure you should be allowed to drink in the day,” Nick replied.

“Oh Nicky, come on. You need to relax. Enjoy life.”

“I would enjoy it more if we weren’t being pursued by several angry Russian gorillas.”

“You only have yourself to blame for that. You really should go to anger management. You do seem to upset people quite a lot.”

“Only when you are around.”

“You can’t blame me. You poured the Champagne over him.”

“You did start it when you told him to fuck off back to where he came from.”

“We’re a good team. I start things. You finish them. You
complete
me,” I said kissing him. “Right. Chop chop sunshine. Let’s go and hunt some Russian gorillas.”

I slapped his bare bum and pulled his pants back up as we did our best to extract ourselves from our sexual embrace in the cramped confines of the car. 

“If we are going to do that again we need a bigger car,” he told me.

“It’s more fun in a small car. We’ll do the disabled toilets next.”

“I’m not having sex in the disabled toilets.”

“You said you wouldn’t have sex in the car thirty minutes ago.”

“It was against my will.”

“That will never stand up in court.”

Nick went round to the back of the Aston and opened the gun safe and took out a black bag. He put the MP5’s in and handed me a pistol and spare magazines.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed a gun?” I said.

“We’re in this together now - for better or worse,” Nick replied.

Chapter 14

THE FIREFIGHT
began as soon as the lift doors opened. Two of the Russians gorillas were stood guarding the entrance to our suite armed with SMG’s. We opened fire immediately showering them with bullets. Despite cutting them down their sheer bulk meant they were still able to return fire sending a volley of bullets ricocheting around the metal lift.

“I’ll cover you!” Nick said as he let loose a return volley of fire. I made a dash for the cover of the side corridor and cover-fired allowing Nick to escape. Having emptied nearly a full magazine each we finally silenced the two door guards who now lay bleeding to death on the floor.

The commotion quickly raised the attention of their colleagues who were waiting in our suite. They opened fire using the entrance as cover scattering bullets wildly into the corridor. With an effective Mexican stand off it was clear we could not make a frontal assault and the Russians were, unless they were very stupid, unlikely to break cover into the narrow corridor. The lift arrived and the wiry lead Russian arrived flanked by two of the gorilla guards. With two of them dead on the corridor it meant Sergei and the other two were in the room. The wiry Russian boss and his guards quickly flanked into cover at the opposite end of the corridor and the cover fire subdued.

I looked at Nick who shrugged his shoulders indicating his lack of ideas on how to resolve the stand off.

“There is no need for this unpleasantness Mister Salinger! We only want the girl!” yelled the wiry man.

Sergei yelled at him from the room in Russian and his boss yelled back at him.

“You can’t bloody well have me!” I shouted back at them.

“The blood debt must be paid. We know you killed Vladimir!” he responded.

“Is that what Johnny Van Sant told you?” I shouted back.

“We know it was you!” he responded.

“Why would you trust him given he is not Van Sant!” I replied.

“Mister Van Sant has impeccable credentials. I can assure you.”

“I’m sure he does. That doesn’t mean he is Van Sant though does it?” I said and looked at Nick for approval. He nodded. “I think you’ll find Johnny Van Sant is dead. The man you are talking to is called Roy. He’s an electrician. From Luton.”

“It’s a lie!” yelled Sergei. “They are trying to trick us!”

“No lie. He is a conman. He stole Van Sant’s identity so he could steal my money. He’s using my money to buy your arms.”

“It does not matter to us who he is or how he pays,” the Russian replied.

“Maybe so. But you have to ask yourself who is he working for? MI6? CIA? The FSB? Interpol? If you don’t know who he is how can you trust him?”

“That is not your concern!”

“Well maybe not. But I still want my bloody shoes back!”

I fired a volley of bullets down the corridor from the MP5 to reinforce my demand.

“I wish I’d brought an M4A1.” Nick told me glumly as he checked his diminished magazine. 

“Or a rocket launcher,” I said jokingly.

“Now there’s a plan,” Nick said and jumped across the gap in the hallway and handed me his MP5. 

He took out two hand grenades. I looked at him surprised.

“Sweet Jesus! That will make a mess of the plasterwork. Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I said.

Nick shrugged his shoulders.

“Hold your fire!” Nick told them. “I just want to talk.”

“Very well,” the wiry man said. “No tricks or funny business!”

Nick pulled out the pins of the grenades and handed them to me. He gave me a serious look.

“If this doesn’t work out take the stairs and get out of here.”

“If this doesn’t work out I doubt there will be any stairs. We’re in this together. To the death,” I told him kissing him before he walked off into the corridor with the grenades concealed in each hand.

The wiry man emerged flanked by his two guards. They both walked down the corridor meeting Nick just short of the suite. 

“What do you propose Mister Salinger?”

“At a guess the hotel staff already called the police and being Swiss they will be on time. We can all stay and shoot it out, end up dead or arrested or we can agree to call it a day.”

“What makes you think you have anything to bargain with?” the wiry man asked pushing his thin rimmed spectacles back off his nose.

“Let’s just say we’re in a highly explosive situation.” Nick told him revealing his hands held two grenades in them. “Short fused. You won’t make the lift. I promise you that.”

The wiry man had a look of terror on his face as the guards pointed their guns at him. I fired up the laser on my MP5 and aimed it straight for the wiry Russian’s forehead.

“You want to kill yourself?” the wiry man asked Nick incredulous.

“You aren’t having the girl and she wants her shoes back.”

“You’re crazy!” he replied. 

“What’s it going to be Ivan?” Nick asked.

The wiry man reluctantly nodded.

“It seems we underestimated you Mister Salinger. I can assure you we won’t repeat the mistake again,” he said before he shouted at Sergei and his escorts in Russian and started to back away towards the lift. Sergei appeared with his two gorilla colleagues at the suite. He scowled at Nick as he passed.

“I’ll be seeing you,” Sergei said to Nick.

“Sergei!” the wiry man yelled. 

Sergei reluctantly retreated to join his other comrades in the lift. As the doors closed Nick threw both of the grenades at him into the lift.

“Catch!” he shouted at them. They all scrambled desperately trying to catch the bouncing grenades. 

“Get down!” Nick shouted at me as he came running back. 

He pushed me to the end of the corridor. We hit the floor as the lift shaft at the opposite end exploded violently shaking the entire building. The lift doors blew off sending a large fireball and compression charge of air down the corridor. Windows shattered broken glass everywhere. Plaster and debris exploded from the ceiling as the whole floor filled with smoke, fire alarm sirens shrieking. I coughed and spluttered from the acrid smoke and dust.

“Come on,” Nick told me pulling me to my feet. “We don’t have long.”

“You just blew the hotel up!” I said in shock coughing on the dust.

Nick dragged me through the debris-strewn corridor to the entrance of our suite where the doors were now hanging off.

“You blew the hotel up to get my shoes back?” I asked him.

“No. I blew the hotel up to kill the Russians. Getting your shoes back was a bonus. Pack quickly, the police will be here soon.”

Nick grabbed our bags and we started hurriedly packing, he tucked away our MP5’s into a bag and grabbed my hand. 

“We should probably take the express check out option,” I told him. 

We headed for the service fire corridor since the passenger lift had been reduced to rubble by Nick’s handiwork. We ran down the stairs that were now full of dazed and confused staff members, the explosion in the lift shaft having ripped through the entire of the hotel on every floor.

We exited through the service corridor and down the alley - a scene of utter chaos as hotel staff evacuated from the burning hotel. Police and fire engine sirens filled the air. Nick took my hand and ran to the car park. He quickly threw the bags in the boot and took out an MP5.

“You better drive,” he said.

I leapt in the drivers seat and fired up the engine as Nick got in the passenger seat and reloaded the gun. I sped for the car-park exit and stopped at the entrance. A large police roadblock had been setup outside the hotel and police cars were heading from the opposite direction. 

“Which way?” I asked.

“Left!” Nick instructed me.

I checked the road was clear. We both spotted the four very angry looking Russians waiting by a black Mercedes S Class outside the hotel. They noticed us and started yelling in Russian and bundled into their car.

“How many more of them are there!” I said flooring the throttle and exiting with a lurid power slide to the left. 

The Mercedes pulled out and gave chase as I weaved between the stationary cars whose drivers had stopped and got out to watch the hotel which was now partly on fire and crumbling into ruin.

I swerved between the oncoming police cars and headed down the side of the lake doing my best to get through the clogged late afternoon Geneva traffic. Nick checked behind and the Mercedes was giving chase.

“We need to lose them,” Nick told me.

“So which part of your plan did you not understand?”

“What?”

“I seem to recall you giving me express instructions to not kill the boss.”

“Ah yes.”

“Which seemed to be the plan right up to the point you decided to blow him up in the lift along with half the hotel.”

“Collateral damage.”

“Collateral damage?”

“I had to improvise,” shrugged Nick.

“So when I improvise I get told off. When you improvise it’s collateral damage?”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” Nick turned round. “They are gaining on us.”

“I know that!” I said.

“Well drive faster then!”

“Right…” I said annoyed.

I dropped two gears and floored the throttle and pulled out down the wrong side of the road past a stream of slow moving traffic into the path of an oncoming bus. Nick pulled his seatbelt on and looked slightly disturbed. At the last possible minute I swerved in to avoid the head on collision sending the bus careering off the road and into a parked car. The Russian’s Mercedes managed to avoid the ensuing mayhem and find a path through the carnage clipping a van as it did so. I continued to weave between the slow moving traffic but it was clear the tenacious Russians were not going to give up the chase without a fight.

“It’s no good Nick. There is too much traffic!” I said exasperated.

“Okay,” he replied. “Just try and get some space on them.”

We continued the cat and mouse chase for a further several kilometres until the traffic thinned out and I was able to use the Aston’s superior handling and speed to gain a lead on the much bulkier S Class.

“This is going well.”

“I think so,” Nick replied. 

“Are you going to sit cuddling that or do something with it?” I asked nodding at the MP5 in his lap. 

Nick dropped the passenger window and undid his seatbelt. He leant out of the window, cocked the MP5 and opened fire on the trailing Mercedes. Bullets sparked off the bonnet and shattered the windscreen. The Mercedes veered to avoid the gunfire but continued its pursuit as Nick emptied the remaining magazine into it. As he finished firing the rear-seated Russians appeared from the panoramic sunroof and returned fire. I swerved to avoid them but the bullets smashed into the back window and peppered the boot with holes.

“That’s not going to polish out you know,” I told Nick as he reloaded the magazine.

“They’re quite persistent aren’t they?” he said exasperated.

“They’re Russians. They have anger issues. But then you just blew half of them up in a hotel lift so it’s not a surprise is it?”

“We’re running out of ammo.”

Nick leant out the window and started firing again. The Mercedes swerved but he managed to hit one of the two rear passengers who collapsed back into the car covered in blood. With smoke pouring out of the Mercedes bullet ridden radiator they finally started to slow down. The remaining rear seat passenger continued fire at us so I swerved between two cars to avoid us taking further damage. Nick climbed back in the car and discarded the MP5 into the foot-well.

“Out of bullets,” he said and took out his pistol and cocked it.