Revenge

by Bill Ward

  Even by the measurement of recent days it had been quite exceptional. Tom felt a bit like he had taken a massive cocktail of potent and very illegal drugs. There had been the highs of hearing Colin was going to live and the almost unbelievable experience of making love to Melanie. The low was the meeting with Miller, which had left him with the distinct feeling that the police half expected further attacks on his life, although the only motive for such action seemed to be some form of revenge for his interfering in the attempt to kidnap Melanie.

  Miller had admitted they were hunting someone they suspected was responsible for the current mayhem without naming him. He seemed confident now they knew who they were chasing and that the net would quickly close. However, in the meantime he did advise that Tom kept a low profile and was alert to possible danger.

  Miller had enquired about Melanie’s plans and raised an eyebrow at her response that she intended to stay around Brighton with Tom. Tom was of the opinion that Miller’s perfectly sensible suggestion she might be better heading back to the States, was born of the desire not to have her added to the casualty list. No policeman would want the terrible publicity that would follow if anything now happened to Melanie Adams in England, when she could have gone back to the States, after the first attempt on her life. It wouldn’t matter it was her choice to remain. Miller made it obvious he did not approve of her intending to spend time so close to a terrorist target. He didn’t ask or receive Tom’s opinion. What he said made perfect sense.

  Tom had naively pointed out that if they knew who was responsible and he was on the run, then surely it was very unlikely there would be any further attempts on his life. Miller had agreed with the logic but stressed that the man they were chasing was very dangerous and might even have some form of personal agenda, which went beyond logic although they weren’t aware of anything.

  Another possibility was that he had been contracted to do the job and already paid, which would make him see it through regardless. Please don’t relax, Miller had stressed, realising he wasn’t going to be able to convince Melanie to take a plane home. Try not to go out too much before we apprehend this man. You should be quite safe in the hotel and it shouldn’t be for too long.

  Tom was suitably worried although far more for Melanie than himself. He would be quite happy for her to adhere to Miller’s request to stay in the hotel, especially after their recent lovemaking. He could happily spend all day in bed with her. As he showed Miller to the door he was caught off guard by Miller’s turning and asking him if he had ever been to Ireland. He had replied in the negative.

  Currently though, Miller’s words of warning were a long way from Tom’s mind as Melanie had asked him not to return home but spend the rest of the day and night with her. Contemplating spending a whole night with her, he recalled the afternoon. He had been a little overawed at first when she had suggested she had a better way of spending the time waiting for Miller to arrive rather than eating. He had a momentary panic. After all, she was one of the world’s sexiest women and he was definitely no Brad Pitt.

  Melanie had kissed him passionately and led the way slowly as if understanding his slight unease and soon he was simply responding to her caresses and touch. An initially slow magical exploration of each other’s bodies had quickly developed into an urgent and hungry desire, driven by the need to celebrate a snatched moment of normality in the midst of two lives turned upside down.

  The only problem Tom realized after, was that he was hurtling into a relationship, which was almost certain to end in his getting badly hurt. His feelings for Melanie were growing stronger by the hour and he had no doubt that sanity would at some point return to her life and then it would only be a matter of time before she crushed his heart.

  Tom was worried about Melanie’s safety but she had waved away his support for Miller’s suggestion she would be better off back home and it was evident he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind. Therefore he intended to stay as close to her as possible. Melanie had never been to Brighton and she wanted to get out and visit, not stay holed up in the hotel, despite Miller’s warning. Tom agreed to show her some of the sights, such as the Pavilion and the temporary outdoor ice rink. He was a reasonable skater and as she said she wasn’t very good, he would enjoy helping her round the rink.

  He suggested that afterwards she must allow him to take her to dinner at one of his favourite Thai restaurants, in the centre of town. He didn’t say it but he was looking forward to being able to pay for dinner, as he was becoming uncomfortable with Melanie always paying for everything. She had readily agreed to his suggestion of Thai, which was also one of her favourites but pointed out that she hadn’t been to the gym for almost a week and desperately needed some exercise.

  Despite the bad weather, she intended going next morning for a run, a regular habit back home it turned out, but her suggestion he should accompany her was met with very little enthusiasm. He had offered to help exercise her all night if it would avoid having to go for a run. She had smiled and emphasized it would really have to be all night in that case.

  When she appeared in the hotel reception ready for her sightseeing expedition, Tom barely recognized her. The long coat, hat, scarf and gloves left little in the way of distinguishing features on view. The cold weather would make it easy for her to move around town without attracting her normal level of attention.

  She had expressed an interest in seeing his betting shop and he probably would pay a quick visit just to give his regulars something to talk about for years to come. But first it would be the Pavilion and a slice of culture. Then perhaps a walk on the pier. He doubted they had a pier in Malibu!

  In the end Sam had taken the initiative and when Eduardo came out the shower wearing just a towel wrapped around his waist, she was waiting for him wearing the expensive underwear she had bought at Heathrow, while waiting for his plane to arrive. That and her best smile caused a noticeable movement under the towel.

  She had knelt before him, removed the towel and been pleased with what she found. He was larger than average and as always it pleased her to see the effect she could have on a man. She teased him slowly with flicks of her tongue and was pleased he made no attempt to force the pace. So many younger men she had experienced would just thrust themselves into her mouth, desperate for a climax instead of savouring every moment. Eduardo lived up to her expectations and after her second orgasm she lay in his arms truly satisfied and deep in thought.

  “What are you thinking about,” Eduardo asked in an accent that revealed his South American roots. “Was everything okay?”

  “God no,” she replied. “That wasn’t okay, that was fantastic.”

  She had been a little worried that after her experience with Connor she might find it difficult to respond to Eduardo’s touch but that hadn’t been the case. She had reasoned with herself beforehand it was like riding a bike. Even if you fell off and hurt yourself, the quicker you got back on the better. She wasn’t going to let one bad experience ruin her life. The sex with Eduardo had been as good as with Danny the night before she came to England and he had raised the bar very high.

  Eduardo smiled broadly. “I thought it was great too, especially for our first time.”

  “First and second time,” Sam laughed. “I can’t believe I kept turning you down all this time!”

  “It was worth waiting for. Now tell me what you have been up to since we spoke on the phone.”

  Sam recounted the events of the last twenty four hours but hesitated when she reached the point in the story where she was raped by Connor. She was worried he would see her differently, somehow spoiled and dirty. However, she also knew that it was the surest way to gain his help.

  Eduardo listened without interruption to her concise description of Connor’s assault. His eyes fixed on her and he spoke in measured tones. “I know this man, Connor. I have met him a few times. He is well regarded by the Chief. My business interests do not allow me to be seen to interfere with this matter.
”

  Sam could not hide her disappointment. It was not the reaction she had hoped for.

  “Let me ask you an important question,” he continued. “Why am I here? Are you just using me? Will you be finishing with me the minute I have served your purpose?”

  Sam was shocked by the questions. She wasn’t sure how to answer and now was beginning to regret ever arranging to meet Eduardo.

  “Be honest,” he prompted. “I don’t entirely mind being used. Indeed please feel free to do so again tonight. However, I need you to be honest with me. Is this just a few days together in return for my helping you?”

  Sam shifted nervously in her chair. “I will be honest,” she said softly. “I needed your help and I know you have always liked me so yes I suppose that is perhaps a form of using you. But I don’t think you’re an eejit, quite the opposite. I have always liked you too but thought you were only interested in the obvious.” She looked up into his eyes but couldn’t determine what he was thinking. “I haven’t put a time limit on this. Maybe it will be days, maybe it will be weeks or if you want, even longer. I don’t know.”

  Eduardo was thoughtful for a few seconds. He stroked his chin and looked directly into her eyes. Then he smiled. “I believe you,” he said. “Please understand that in my position I just have to know you are being honest with me at all times. I will not be made a fool of but you are right I have always liked you, so I would take this time with you even if it is only a few days. Although I do hope it will be longer.”

  Sam relaxed a little. His words encouraged her. She smiled. “There are no conditions to my being with you,” she said. “I understand you can’t do anything about Connor but that doesn’t matter.”

  “You misunderstand, Sam. I said I could not be seen to interfere. From the first moment you told me what he did to you, he was a dead man. He is a pig and I will see he is spit roasted over a very hot fire. I just wanted to be clear about why we are here together in this hotel room.”

  Sam gave a huge smile. She jumped up out the chair and threw her arms around him. She snogged him full and deep on the lips. “Gracias,” she said simply when they came up for air. They had an agreement that despite her language skills, she generally wouldn’t speak Spanish with Eduardo, as he liked to practice his English.

  “My pleasure.”

  “Actually there is one condition about my staying with you,” Sam said teasingly. “You must keep making love to me the way you did earlier.”

  “Well I am not sure about that,” he replied with a mischievous smile. “I had a few rather different ways I wanted to try out.”

  Connor was positioned on the flat roof of a small row of shops opposite the back of the court. He had worn two jumpers and a thick coat, to keep out the inevitable cold that would assault him, while he laid in wait. He had woollen gloves to protect his hands, with the ends of the fingers cut out so he could grip properly.

  He had a clear sight of the busy road and the imposing double gates, which formed the rear entrance. He heard them approaching before he saw them. Two police motorbike outriders with sirens blaring, blocked the crossroads fifty yards up the road, so that the convoy would have an uninterrupted path through the traffic lights. Then he saw the van and two accompanying police cars, followed finally by two further police on bikes.

  Connor raised the weapon to his shoulder in anticipation of the van’s imminent arrival at the rear gates. The convoy slowed and the gates began to open. He knew he would only get the one shot. He also knew how valuable the RPG rocket launcher was. They had very few weapons of this magnitude still available after the decommissioning in 2005. It would be bad enough missing the target but especially so as he would be leaving the almost irreplaceable weapon behind.

  He hadn’t used one for a few years but they were simple enough to operate. He just had to point and fire. The van was the normal type regularly used to transport prisoners to court. There was no special armour to protect it from the rocket shell Connor launched in the direction of the van’s rear doors. Any armour would in fact have been worthless anyway as the RPG was designed as an anti-tank weapon. It pierced the rear doors and exploded in a fireball, engulfing anyone inside the rear of the van and throwing the heavy van ten feet in the air.

  The blast from the explosion threw two of the policemen from their bikes and the escort cars screeched to a halt, trying to avoid the wreckage of the van. The police car immediately behind the van had braked and swerved so hard the driver lost control for a few seconds and it skidded into the oncoming line of traffic. This led in turn to further cars breaking and swerving. There were at least two further impacts. Pedestrians were running from the scene of the devastation, worried both about further explosions and the mayhem of the skidding cars.

  Connor didn’t intend to hang around. He was confident his objective was achieved. Jones had come through with the correct information about the time and place. The Chief had come through with an appropriate weapon and he had done the job. It was a good result. Connor left the weapon on the roof with a touch of regret. It was extremely valuable to the organization but he had no choice. It was much too bulky to take with him.

  In the confusion he was quickly down the fire escape and calmly walking away from the explosion, keen not to attract attention. He didn’t look back. Fortunately the weather allowed him to wear his ski jacket with its hood up which revealed very little of his face. He was confident it would be virtually impossible to identify him from the photo that had been on television.

  Five minutes later he was on the underground and looking forward to a very large whisky or two. He had finished what he came to London to do and now he could finally get the hell out of the bloody place. There would be a holiday to look forward to and a decent deposit in his bank account that would pay for a lot of booze and a lot of women.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Miller was convinced the attack on Murphy had required inside help. The route, timings and choice of court had been a closely guarded secret, which also meant that it was likely the source was someone deep inside one of the services and quite possibly was also senior. It was true the number of courts likely to be used was probably only a handful but he didn’t believe for a minute that someone had been positioned at every one, armed with a rocket launcher.

  He was shocked that those responsible had access to an RPG. It wasn’t a weapon that you could just buy on the streets. He remembered the days in Ireland when RPG attacks on the troops armoured carriers were quite a regular occurrence. Had the IRA been responsible for this attack? It appeared the objective of the attack could only be to silence Murphy and the IRA were the ones to profit most from his death. He had a load more information in his head, which with his death was going to remain secret. Miller was disappointed he hadn’t yet raised the subject of Brian Potter with him. As always with that case, it was one dead end after another.

  Three police officers in the van had been killed in the explosion and the rising body count was not acceptable. About now, wives, parents and sadly also children were having to come to terms with a future life without a loved one. Members of the public had suffered a mixture of broken bones and other injuries. By sheer luck none of them life threatening, so it was a small mercy the body count would not rise any further.

  The press was in a feeding frenzy desperate for developments and arrests. For a shambolic government in the last throes of its tenure this was a final straw. But Miller was far more driven by the thought of the loss of innocent life and families affected, than the threats being hurled at him by politicians increasingly concerned for their future careers.

  Unfortunately, even a closely guarded secret such as Murphy’s route and the Court was known to at least a dozen people including three on his own staff. He was willing to discount all of them so he was left with nine suspects.

  As he stared at the list he noticed both the name of Simpson and his obnoxious boss. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was difficult to ima
gine any of the names on the list had intentionally let slip the details. It could just have been a casual conversation between one of the names on the list and someone they trusted. It shouldn’t happen but it easily could happen and was how so many secrets had been let slip over the years. Twelve names on a list could easily mean twice as many actually knowing. The driver and escorts had only been informed of the route at the last moment and been given no opportunity to contact anyone. Neither had they known who they were transporting until the very last second.

  He decided lunch with Simpson, who was another name he felt he could quickly strike form the list of suspects, was once again necessary. Only this time it would have to be over a take away coffee, not an expensive meal. He called and arranged to meet by the river. Simpson had pointed out it was freezing cold outside but Miller had not listened. As he replaced the receiver Miller smiled at the thought of Simpson’s lack of excitement at the choice of meeting place for lunch. Even in the midst of a national crisis Simpson’s priorities never changed. Food first and everything else second.

  Miller had telephoned Tom and let him know about the attack on the van and the death of Murphy. Despite the initial shock both he and Melanie had agreed they would lose no sleep over Murphy’s death. What did concern them was the evidence this presented of further carnage on London’s streets.

  Tom returned to the task of trying to convince Melanie she should be on the next plane back to the States. Neither London nor Brighton seemed safe places to remain any longer than absolutely necessary. This time he uttered the words with conviction from his heart. He didn’t want her to come to any harm and the best way of ensuring that was if she went back home. He was carrying enough guilt around thinking of what had happened to Colin.