Budapest/48: A Ryan Lock Story

by Sean Black

  The guard grinned at him. He nodded towards Michael’s right hand. “Put the blade back in the razor. Don’t be silly again, Michael. You are going home.”

  “But what about Katya?” said Michael, his voice cracking.

  The guard dissolved into a gale of laughter. “Katya?”

  Michael’s jaw tightened with anger. “Yes, Katya.”

  The guard had to struggle to stop laughing. “Katya is fine, Michael. Believe me on this.”

  Michael walked back into the bathroom. He started to close the door.

  “Leave it open,” the guard said.

  Michael did as he was told. He crossed back to the sink and picked up the safety razor. The guard watched with a smile as Michael put the blade back in the head.

  Chapter Eight

  Lock got into the front passenger seat of Yuksia’s car. She sat there, staring silently up at the windows of the apartment. She glanced back over at Lock with big, brown eyes. “Are you always this suspicious?” she asked him, pushing back a stray strand of hair that had fallen over her right cheek

  He thought about it for a moment, turning the question over in his mind. He couldn’t exactly say no, but saying yes didn’t seem like an adequate answer either. “Let’s just say that I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  Yuksia started the engine, and pulled away from the curb. “I agree with you.” She snuck a glance at him as made a sharp left, heading down a side street and back towards the river and Lock’s hotel. “Everything happens for a reason.”

  They were driving next to the river. The Chain Bridge was up ahead, its lights shimmering in the moonlight. Suddenly, Yuksia pulled the car over to the side of the road. She put on the parking brake and slammed her hands down onto the steering wheel. “Let’s go for a walk,” she announced, getting out of the car before Lock could protest.

  “I thought you were taking me back to the hotel,” said Lock joining her on the sidewalk.

  She waved her hand down the street. “It’s right there. You can go to your room. Or you can take a walk with me. It’s up to you.”

  He wasn’t going to sleep. He already knew that. He had too much churning around his head. Michael Lane. Who the woman he’d met was and where, if anywhere, she fitted into his abduction. Whether the other men who had been kidnapped had also fallen for the same subterfuge. And, if he was being honest with himself, his mind would also be on Yuksia who had already slipped her hand into his, and was pulling him gently towards the bridge.

  “We can go look at the castle on the other side of the river,” she said.

  She wasn’t leaving him with too many options. Plus, walking hand in hand with a pretty young woman after midnight next to the Danube wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him. There wasn’t too much by way of preparations that he could make for the exchange. By its very nature they would have no idea about the collection point until the very last second, so reconnaissance would be a pointless exercise.

  As they reached the bridge’s footpath they passed a stone lion mounted on a plinth. Its partner was on the other side of the road, both lions seemingly guarding the mouth of the bridge. Yuksia’s hand felt warm and comforting in Lock’s.

  “You grew up here?” Lock asked her.

  “Yes,” she said. “On the Buda side of the river. That’s where the prettiest girls are from.”

  Lock laughed. “Oh, really?”

  She looked up at him with a frown. “Yes, really. What about you? Where do you live?”

  “All depends on where work takes me. Los Angeles. New York. Here today. Then London tomorrow. Then back to LA, I guess. Unless I get a call while I’m in London that takes me somewhere else.”

  They stopped for a moment and took in the grand sweep of the buildings on either side of the Danube. Yuksia pointed out some of the main landmarks to him from the Gothic Revival majesty of the Hungarian Parliament building on the Pest side to the brooding baroque Castle that sat high on the Buda side. It really was a beautiful city, thought Lock.

  “Doesn’t your girlfriend get upset that you are always traveling?” Yuksia asked him as they began walking again.

  “You’re fishing,” said Lock.

  “Fishing?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t have a girlfriend. It wouldn’t be fair to get involved with someone with the life I have.”

  They were reaching the other side of the river. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?” Yuksia said.

  Lock shrugged. He had a feeling she would ask anyway. She was refreshingly direct.

  “Don’t get offended okay,” she said.

  “I don’t offend easily,” said Lock.

  “You like women?” Yuksia said.

  Lock burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. “You think I’m gay?” he said with a broad grin.

  “I don’t want to make a fool of myself,” she said.

  Lock turned towards her with a smile. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back. His hand touched her face, brushing away the hair as he kissed her once more, more deeply this time. She snuggled in closer, her hands settling around his waist. After a few more kisses, he pulled back a little.

  “I’m leaving tomorrow,” Lock said.

  She reached down and took his hand. “I’m not a child. I do know that. But perhaps if you really don’t believe in coincidences we should go to your room. It’s a better place to see the castle from.”

  “You want to go to my room for a better view of the castle?” he said.

  She shrugged. “Yes, of course. Why else?”

  Chapter Nine

  They were less than four hundred yards from the hotel entrance when Lock heard a car accelerating behind them. He half turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark sedan driving towards them. The rear nearside window glided down. The long barrel of a gun penetrated the gap.

  Lock wrapped around an arm around Yuksia and pushed her down onto the sidewalk. With his right hand he reached in under his jacket, and pulled out the SIG 229. Lying on top of Yuksia, he heard the rapid chatter of bullets flying over his head.

  He looked up. The car was still moving slowly past them. It came to a stop and whipped round, headed back for another try. This time Lock was ready. The attackers’ element of surprise was gone.

  Using his knees and elbows, he crawled over Yuksia, placing his body between her and the gun car. Staying low, he took aim at the front windshield, aiming for the driver’s side about a foot above the hood. Even if the driver was hunkered down, they’d still need some kind of a visual. If they weren’t hunched over the steering wheel then, with a little luck, he’d catch them flush in the chest.

  Using less pressure on the second shot, he fired. The round went a little high. It punched through the windshield. The sedan braked. The driver threw it into neutral and began to back up. Lock fire twice more. Both shots punched through the windshield.

  The driver spun the wheel, making another turn. Lock fired a fourth round at the car as it sped away into the night. He could hear sirens in the distance. He had no idea if they were headed towards them, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. He was carrying a gun he wasn’t legally entitled to have in his possession, in a foreign country where the cops weren’t entirely dependable. He got to his feet and reached down to help Yuksia.

  “You okay?” he said.

  She was gasping for air but that was likely hyperventilation from the shock. Lock jammed his SIG back into his holster and zipped up his jacket. He took a firm grip of Yuksia’s hand and walked her briskly across the street towards the hotel entrance as if they were merely continuing their romantic midnight stroll. Down the street a small group of late night revelers stared at them. Lock ignored them and kept walking with Yuksia.

  It was only when they hit the brightly lit lobby that he turned round. A police car whipped past on the street outside. He steered Yuksia towards the elevator. The elevator doors opened. He bundled her inside, his ha
nd on the arch of her back. He hit the button to take them to the floor above his room. He hadn’t seen anyone watching them in the lobby but he didn’t want to take any chance of someone following them to his room. They would walk back down one flight of stairs.

  Yuksia’s breathing had slowed. He dropped her hand, and brushed away the strands of rich chestnut hair that had fallen across her face. There was a dark smudge across her right cheek where she had made contact with the sidewalk.

  “You in any pain?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  The elevator stopped. Lock lowered the zip on his jacket a few inches so that he had easier access to the SIG if he needed to pull it again. The elevator doors opened. He led Yuksia towards the stairwell. They walked briskly down the stairs.

  As they emerged back into the corridor, Ty was standing outside Lock’s room. He saw Lock and turned towards them. “What’s going on? There’s like half a dozen cop cars out front and I heard a bunch of shots. I thought this was a nice neighborhood too. Four Seasons and shit.”

  Lock raised his finger to his lips, shushing Ty. He opened the door into his room and led Yuksia inside. Ty followed. Lock kept the lights off. He closed the door behind them.

  The three of them stood in the gloom. Lock walked to the window. Down on the street a dozen cop cars had now assembled. Uniformed and plainclothes officers stood in clusters. A couple were shining their torches, no doubt looking for shell casings and broken glass.

  Ty was already rifling the room’s mini-bar. He poured Yuksia a Scotch and handed it to her. She took it with trembling hands.

  “You want anything?” he asked Lock. “They got that Toblerone chocolate up in here. Already ate the one I had in my room.”

  Lock couldn’t help but smile at the object of Ty’s focus. He had been seconds from being killed in a drive-by and his partner’s main interest was almond and honey-infused chocolate.

  Ty fished the chocolate bar from the small fridge and began to open it. “Okay, well your loss. These are really good.” He sliced the foil with his thumbnail, broke off a triangle and offered it to Yuksia. When she shook her head, he popped the triangle into his mouth. “So what was that about?” he asked Lock, with a nod towards the window.

  Lock shrugged. “No idea. Yuksia was showing me the castle. We were just walking back to the hotel when those chumps drove past and tried a pop and drop.”

  “You get a look at them?” said Ty.

  “Nope,” said Lock, “and even if I had I’m not sure what good it would have done. I’m not really familiar with Budapest’s Most Wanted. What do you think, Yuksia? You get many random drive-bys here?”

  She shook her head, and finished the rest of the Scotch. She dug in the bar for a refill, twisted off the small cap, tossed into a nearby waste basket and poured another measure into her glass. “Like you said. There’s no such thing as a coincidence.”

  Chapter Ten

  Lock had never thought that gunfire might be an aphrodisiac. He’d been wrong. As soon as things had settled down, the cops had dispersed, and Ty had gone to his own room, Lock had gone to take a shower, leaving Yuksia to finish her whisky. Lock always found the shower a good place to decompress, and think things over. There was something about the steady drumbeat of the water and the heat that relaxed him.

  For security reasons he had kept the door slightly ajar so that if anyone came into the room he would see be able to see them in the bathroom mirror. Instead what he saw was Yuksia’s dress drop to the floor, and her step out of it. Next her bra and panties came off. There was a little more in the way of material than the underwear they’d found at Michael Lane’s apartment, but not much. Maybe there was a worldwide silk and lace shortage that Lock hadn’t read about in the Wall Street Journal.

  Yuksia opened the bathroom door and stood staring at him. Her figure was sensational. Toned and curvy in just the right proportions. She’d tied her hair back in a ponytail at some point, giving Lock a good view of her full, soft breasts. She moved with grace and confidence towards the shower, and opened the door. Lock took a step back. She reached up and put her arms around his shoulders. He bent down a little and kissed her. Her lips parted. Her tongue slid inside his mouth. Her passion was raw and immediate. She wrapped herself around him, reaching one had down to stroke the inside of his thigh. He stared into her eyes, losing himself in her as she took hold him.

  Lock’s hands slid down her back. He cupped her ass cheeks, and lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he lowered her onto him, the water pounding down onto them from the powerful shower head.

  Yuksia ran her fingers through his hair. Her hands went lower, her nails digging into his back with increasing ferocity as she rode on top of him. He eased up, not wanting it to end too fast. He turned so that her back was against the tiled wall. With her arms around his neck, he let her make the pace, lifting and lowering her onto him as she demanded. Her breath quickened. He felt her tighten around him. She let out a cry and bit down on her lower lip. Her head tilted back as she came. He lowered her slowly so that he was deep inside her. He let her have the moment.

  Her eyes opened. “Take me to bed.”

  Lock’s powerful arms hoisted her up even higher. He slipped out of her and held her, one arm under her legs, the other supporting her back. He nudged the shower door open with his foot, and carried her back through into the bedroom.

  Outside, the street was quiet as he laid Yuksia gently down onto the kingsized bed.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Lock left Yuksia to get ready and made his way down to breakfast in the hotel’s Gresham restaurant. Ty was already busy working his way through most of the lengthy breakfast menu, while Robertson and András looked on in wonderment. Lock slid into a seat next to his business partner as Ty finished a plate of pancakes and moved onto eggs and sausage. A waiter made the rounds with coffee and fresh water. He too looked in awe at the carnage. Ty took a slurp of coffee and shot Lock a grin.

  “You got that look about you, brother.”

  Lock knew that asking ‘what look’ would be a fatal mistake. “How was your Toblerone?”

  Ty’s grin grew broader. “Delicious. How was yours?”

  Lock ignored him and turned to Robertson. “Michael Lane was having an affair. Almost certainly with someone he met when he moved here. I think she may be the key to why he was targeted.”

  While András looked shocked, Robertson didn’t react. His hands smoothed out the napkin on his lap. “I’ll report that back. But today’s game day. We should get the details of where they want the money transferred to this morning.”

  “They don’t want cash?” Lock asked.

  Robertson smiled. “Not these days. Times change. I handled a K and R case last month in Venezuela where the kidnappers insisted on being paid in Bitcoin via a darkweb site. Dropping cash leaves them way too exposed.”

  “Okay,” said Lock. “So all we have to do is collect our package?”

  “Correct,” said Robertson. “I’ve arranged a car with a driver and Yuksia can navigate for you. She knows the city like the back of her hand.”

  “Bet that’s not the only thing she knows like the back of her hand,” muttered Ty with a side-long smile at Lock.

  “Speak of the devil,” said András.

  Lock looked up to see Yuksia walking towards them. She looked stunning. Her skin glowed, only to flush a little as she made eye contact with him. Lock stood up and pulled out a seat.

  “Thank you,” she said, the picture of innocence.

  “I was just telling Ryan that you can help handle the navigation to the collection point,” said Robertson.

  “Of course,” said Yuksia. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Ty choked back a laugh. “Good eggs,” he said, stabbing his fork at another freshly cleaned plate. “What a great city. Huh, Ryan?”

  “Did you hear about what happened last night when Yuksia was bringing me back her
e?” Lock asked Robertson.

  The Scottish negotiator took a sip of coffee. “Worrying. I’m not sure quite what to make of it. It couldn’t be random. Not here.”

  “So what do you think?” pressed Lock. “Why would a kidnap gang take a shot at someone who’s going to be giving them a bunch of money?”

  Lock noticed András studiously staring at the table cloth before taking a slug of coffee. Robertson shrugged. “They probably want to keep it as just business. You poking round Lane’s apartment takes it into slightly different territory. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Either way, let’s be on our guard today. If there’s anything else you need before you deploy then let me know.” He stood up. “I’d better check in with the broker in London. Make sure we’re all set for the transfer on our end. That’s scheduled for eleven am. András spoke to them last night and they indicated they’d release Michael as soon as the funds were cleared into their offshore account.”

  Ty looked up from his plate. “We give them the money first?”

  “Simultaneous exchanges are extremely rare,” said Robertson. “Apart from in the movies. The usual deal is money first then they release the package into our care.”

  Lock and Ty exchanged a look. “Doesn’t that mean they could just kill Michael Lane?”

  Robertson cleared his throat. He had the professorial air of a man who had grown accustomed to having just this conversation. “They could. But that would destroy any repeat business and bring down a lot of heat of them. Generally, unless you are dealing with jihadists or other political groups, kidnappers treat it as business. It’s bad business to kill someone after you’ve been paid. These guys may be relatively new to this, but they’ll understand that.”

  “Still seems like a risk to me,” Ty said, pushing his plate away unfinished.

  Robertson rested his elbows on the table, and pressed his fingertips together. “I’ve dealt with coming up on fifty K and R negotiations. Out of all of those cases I’ve only once had a hostage killed after the ransom was paid. And that was because they lost patience, did something stupid and attempted to escape before the exchange team got to them.”