The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller (22 page)

BOOK: The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller
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“Would you like to wait in the lounge Miss?”

“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly as the banker led me back into the private clients room, a glass partitioned area in the main lobby. 

I tried to control my rage at Roy who had taken his opportunity to slip through the net. Minutes passed and Roy did not return. After more than ten elapsed the smart suited banker returned.

“Your husband was taken unwell. He asked me to tell you to enjoy your shopping trip and he will see you back at the hotel.”

“Which way did he go?” I asked.

“He left out the private clients side entrance a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you.” I smiled politely seething with rage.

Roy in an act of self-indulgent cowardice had left Charlotte to her fate and made good his escape. With no other option I headed back to the main entrance to break the bad news to Nick that Roy had got away.

Chapter 18

I GOT
back into the car and put my seatbelt on. Nick looked at me expectantly.

“Where the fuck is Roy?”

“He escaped.”

“How?”

“What does it matter how? He got away. What was I supposed to do? Have a shoot out in the middle of the bank?”

“Did you get the money?”

“Yes.”

The built-in car phone rang. Nick pressed a button on the steering wheel to answer it.

“You’ll understand if I didn’t trust you would keep your word.” said Roy.

“Very clever Roy. Where are you?” I asked. 

Roy laughed.

“You don’t really expect me to answer that do you?”

“Feeling braver now are we?”

“You might have got your money back but I promise you aren’t going to live long enough to spend it.”

“Save your threats Roy. In case you haven’t noticed we still have Charlotte.”

“You can keep her. That useless bitch has been slowing me down since I started this.”

“Maybe you should explain that to her father.”

“The Russians want their money.”

“It’s not their money. It’s not your money. It’s my money. And they can fuck off because they aren’t having it.” I said angrily.

“We’ll see about that…”

The phone went dead.

“He’s got a lot of balls for an electrician from Luton. They must negotiate hard over light fittings in that neck of the woods. So what now?” I asked Nick.

“How much is your property portfolio worth?” Nick replied.

“I don’t know, it’s a bad market, maybe ten to fifteen million?”

“That’s where he is headed.”

“He could never sell it in time.”

“He can borrow against it. It’s enough collateral. We need to get to the airport.”

“What about her?” I asked gesturing at Charlotte.

“We’ll dump her at the airport.”

“Her or her body?”

“I’m easy,” replied Nick.

Nick drove to Zurich airport and abandoned the car in the short-term visitors parking lot. He opened the back door to get Charlotte out. I took his arm and led him to one side.

“Nicky, I was all for killing the dumb bitch when I started this but I was angry. Things have changed. She’s stupid, but this isn’t her fight.”

Nick looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure.” feeling suddenly merciful now I was cashed up again.

“You’re in danger of turning into a rational person,” Nick said with surprise.

“Had to happen eventually,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

Nick opened the door.

“Stay in the car. Don’t follow us. Don’t go to the police. Wait here thirty minutes then go straight to the airport and get on a flight home. If I see you again I will kill you are we clear?”

“Yes,” said Charlotte nervously.

Nick looked at me.

“Say your goodbyes,” he said before he walked around and took the large duffel bags of cash out the boot. 

I got back in the car.

“This is hard for me to say believe me Charlotte but I’m sorry I killed your stinky rapper boyfriend.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Johnny AKA Roy told me to do it.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He was setting me up to steal my money. You were just his convenient sidekick. I’m sorry.”

“Who is he? Johnny?”

“His name is Roy. He’s an electrician from Luton. He’s either a very clever conman or he’s someone we have all underestimated.”

“Why would he do this?”

“Greed? I don’t know…anyway I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it when I killed him but you cared about him. God knows why but that is love for you. I know better now what it’s like to lose something you love. What I did wasn’t right.”

“Okay,” nodded Charlotte.

“Go home Charlotte. Marry someone dull, live in Surrey and have children.”

I got out the car and followed Nick down to the main arrivals terminal car rental desks.

“Do you think she’ll talk?” Nick asked me.

I shook my head.

“No. Nobody would believe her anyway. If you told me this story I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“You can say that again.”

“Truth is stranger than fiction.”

“I didn’t mean
literally
say it again.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“Which part of training did sarcastic comedy come under?”

“Interpersonal skills.”

“Were they expecting you to do a lot of undercover work at a Blackpool panto theatre?”

“You’d be surprised the amount of treason that goes on between pantomime horses.”

We arrived at the car rental desk. Nick handed over a reference.

“I have a special collection,” he told the clerk.

“One moment Sir,” the clerk responded. He returned with an envelope marked with a diplomatic seal. “Here you go Sir. It’s parked for you in our preferred gold card holder enclosure directly in front of the terminal building.”

“Thanks,” replied Nick as he took the package before leading me away.

“You might want to take out a collision damage waiver the way this trip is going,” I said. 

As we walked across the arrivals hall Nick stopped in his tracks.

“Well would you believe it…”

Nick gestured to the centre of the arrivals hall where Roy was scurrying across the foyer.

“That’s a stroke of luck. Let’s grab him,” I suggested.

“It’s a little public,” replied Nick.

Before we had a chance to react I noticed Charlotte running across from the car park exit in the direction of the flight desks. Roy spotted her, intercepted her and grabbed her arm.

“Oh you dumb bitch! She clearly didn’t understand the concept of
wait in the car
,” I said to Nick shaking my head at Charlotte’s stupidity.

We watched as Roy and Charlotte had a disagreement. Charlotte was crying as Roy grabbed her arm to prevent her walking away, they noticed us and I gave a wave. Roy looked around suspicious he was in a trap then he noticed the large group of smartly dressed Russians arriving. Nick shook his head.

“Here we go…” he said nodding at the Russians approaching Roy. “Anatoly is here.”

“Which one?” I asked.

“Large fat guy in the middle with the dark glasses and camel coat.”

“Of course. How could I not spot the family resemblance with Vladimir. Fat and ugly.”

Anatoly and the Russians walked across to meet Roy and Charlotte. Roy immediately pointed in our direction.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” I told Nick.

“I think so too,” replied Nick as Anatoly sent four of the Russian goons in our direction.

“Shame. I was hoping to pick up some duty free.”

“Let’s get to the car.”

Nick grabbed my arm and we hurried across to the VIP gold card rental car park outside the front. Nick ripped open the package and took out the keys to a Mercedes, which didn’t narrow it down much since there was an entire line of C and E classes parked in the rental lot. As we approached the line Nick pressed the alarm button and a grey E63 AMG’s indicators chirped. We dashed over to it. Nick pressed the remote boot release but as we approached the car he realised the boot was already full of containers probably loaded with replacement tools of destruction. He opened the back door and dropped the bags on the back seat. 

“You better drive,” he told me throwing me the keys. I got in pressed the red starter button and fired up the raucous AMG tuned V8. 

Nick went round to the boot and broke open the cachet container and took out a short-barrel M4 carbine fitted with a suppressor. He turned around and fired a warning line of bullets at the feet of the Russians. They stopped on their heels put their hands up and started backing away. Nick closed the boot as he passed it and jumped in the passenger seat. I slammed the box into reverse pulled out and drove away as Nick sat admiring his new toy.

“Hmm
upgrades
,” I told him admiring his fully special forces kitted M4.

“They must be serious about this shit. We usually don’t get these,” he replied stroking his new killer pet.

I made my way to the airport exit and headed north out the city while Nick fiddled with the sat-nav to program it for Luxembourg.

“What about Roy and Anatoly?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. They’ll follow us I can assure you of that.”

“I didn’t even get to go shopping,” I said sulking.

“We can stop in Munich en-route. They have enough boutiques to keep even
you
happy,” Nick replied.

“Sounds like a plan. At least we can afford to stay in a decent hotel now.”

The Mercedes provided by Nick’s employers had diplomatic plates that meant we could utilise the outrageous five hundred horsepower V8 to its full advantage with impunity. Cruising at one hundred and twenty miles per hour made light work of the journey north to the German border. Once we crossed into Bavaria and got onto the de-restricted autobahn I gave it the full beans - averaging one hundred and eighty between the trucks was entertaining although devastating on the fuel economy with the needle dropping faster than the miles racked up.

Our lightning speed even with the delay of two fuel stops was enough to give us a sizeable distance lead over the much slower Russian - who would be pursuing us with dogged determination since we now had all the money.

We reached Munich in the early evening. The shops stayed open late during weeknights so I drove straight to the prestigious boutique lined
Maximillianstrasse
and parked the car in a space right outside Gucci.

“Come on. It’s time we bought you a decent wardrobe as well,” I told Nick as he woke up from his cat-nap.

I extracted enough cash from our four million stashed in the boot to buy out the entire store then set forth on some long overdue and much needed retail therapy. Nick was much less enthusiastic about our shopping trip but suffered it in silence.

 

After days being shot at, blown up and chased by Russian hoodlums sometimes a girl needs some
me
time.

 

“What do you think?” I asked him as I modelled a lovely black cocktail dress from the autumn/winter collection paired with matching four-inch heels.

“It’s nice,” replied Nick.

“What do you mean ‘
It’s nice
’?”

“I mean it’s not shit.”

“I know it’s
nice
. It’s Gucci. Gucci is
nice
. What I am asking is how does it look on
me
?”

“You look lovely.”

“I don’t want to look
lovely
.”

“What do you want to look like then?”

“Sexy. Feminine. Appealing.”

“You always look that.”

“So how does it look?”

“You look sexy, feminine and appealing.”

“You are just saying that because I told you to say that. I want
your
opinion.”

“Ok. It makes me want to take you to an expensive hotel and rip it off, pull your thong and bra off with my teeth then fuck you hard doggy style until my dick hurts and come all over your tits,” replied Nick in a surprising and somewhat graphic admission of his personal sexual fantasies towards me which I duly noted in my mental diary for later action.

“Hardly romantic. But close enough. Although I wouldn’t suggest a fashion editorial job at Vogue will figure highly in your future career plans,” I replied.

I picked up three more dresses from the rail and held them up against myself.

“So if this one is
pick-up slutty
which of these is
marriage-material
?” I asked him with an alluring smile.

“The one you like the most so we can leave and go to the bar.” he replied unhelpfully.

“That’s not the answer I was looking for.”

I took the dresses and tried them all on. Sensing he was getting bored I summoned the personal shopper.

“Can you go and get him measured up for a suit or something?”

“Certainly madam.” she gestured at the menswear assistant to come over. 

“Would Sir like to come this way and we can take your measurements?”

Nick got up reluctantly, he put his head around the changing room curtain and took out his Beretta and handed it to me.

“You better put this in your bag. I don’t want to explain it.”

“That’s why you always need a woman. We have handbags to hide your gun in.”

I kissed him and discretely hid it in my handbag already bulging with Euro notes. If they searched it then they would think we had just robbed a bank. Which technically we had albeit indirectly using Roy and discounting the fact it was my money in the first place. I finished trying the dresses on and satisfied I had depleted Gucci of everything I could possibly buy in my size I ventured into the menswear department where a tailor was busy adjusting a very nice black two piece suit on Nick.

“So how do I look?” he asked.

“Sexy, masculine and appealing.”

“How do I really look?”

“It makes me want to take you to a hotel, rip it off, have you fuck me silly over a table then come all over my tits.”

“Close enough,” replied Nick shrugging his shoulders at the embarrassed tailor.

We finished up at Gucci and took a whirlwind trip through Dolce & Gabbana for some suitable party clothes. Sensing Nick was now thoroughly bored I dragged him into the underwear section where suddenly his interest in my retail trip perked up considerably.

BOOK: The International Assassin A Sexy Times Crime Thriller
13.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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