Rocks

by M. J. Lawless

  “Yes,” she asked, a little more warily.

  “Why Ms Pietersen? Why a Danish name?”

  This appeared to make her relax slightly, which piqued Lars’s interest even more. She truly was a fascinating specimen: standing here with a gun pointed at her, facing almost certain death, she seemed to relish the opportunity to explain her own schemes.

  “It was something that came up last year.” She mentioned a name which caused Hayden to stare blankly, but which Lars recognised. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes. He’s the star of a crime show on Danish television.”

  Hayden’s face cleared. “Oh, yeah, I’ve seen that,” he remarked.

  “So,” Lars said, “I presume you have a crush on him.”

  Karla shrugged. “Not exactly. We had a fling last year. He was very disappointed when I told him to go back to his wife but, you know how it is.” She gave a slightly apologetic smile. “A girl’s just got to be a girl, right?”

  For the first time in many years, Lars’s face registered genuine surprise. “I’m impressed,” he said, and for once he meant it. Hayden looked stunned.

  “Anyway, while things didn’t exactly… work out between us, I liked him. I liked Denmark—hell, I love Scandinavia.” She beamed as though at some pleasant memory, seeming to forget the gun that was pointed at her and Hayden. “You’re right—in what you were saying. You’re all just so… cultured, so civilised.” She gave another shrug then looked directly at Lars with those piercing green eyes. “It seemed a small way to show… I don’t know… a mark of respect.”

  Lars swallowed. For a moment he’d been lost in those green eyes and he had to snap himself out of a reverie. Why on earth was he thinking about how lovely this woman’s lips would feel against his mouth, the curves of her body pressed to his. “V-very interesting. You are a fascinating woman, Ms Pietersen. May I ask your real name?”

  “Uh-uh,” she shook her head and waved a finger at him although he was a very naughty boy. For a second, Lars felt distinctly hot under his coat. “You’ll have to kill me before I tell you that.”

  Lars gave a grim smile, his thin lips pressed tightly. “Then it’s such a shame I’ll never know who you really are, Ms Pietersen.” He needed to dispel the fog that was beginning to form in his brain: perhaps talking to these two was not such a good idea after all. Better simply to shoot them, take the Wallenstein and be done with it.

  Karla came forward, her eyes fixed on him. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said very quietly. “There are lots of different ways to know me.”

  “Ms Pietersen,” Lars replied in as steady a voice as he could. Was his hand actually trembling? He steadied it, keeping his finger on the trigger. “Please stand where you were.”

  “Such a shame,” Karla said, dropping her eyes from his and looking at the Walther PK in his hand. “You don’t know what you’re missing, but I do. I love a strong man.” To his disbelief, she slowly raised her hand and stroked the barrel of the gun.

  “Karla!” It was Hayden’s voice, nervous and clearly frightened. “Stand back. You don’t know what he’ll do.”

  “Oh, but I do,” Karla purred. “I know what you want to do, Lars.” Once more her eyes came up and Lars found himself staring down into two green pools, losing himself once more in their depths. He imagined he could feel the warmth of her body at this distance. She smiled and said, very softly: “You want to shoot him and take me—here and now. You can have the Wallenstein and me.”

  “You bloody bitch!” Hayden was distraught. “I was trying to save your bloody life!”

  Lars tried to reply, but he suddenly realised his mouth had gone completely dry and no words would come out. Very gently, Karla pushed the barrel of the Walther PK to one side and came closer to him. He could see the curve of her breasts beneath her sweater, the arch of her neck. “You want me, don’t you Lars,” she whispered, lifting her head slightly so that her mouth came close to his ears.

  At last he found the word he wanted to say. “Yes,” he whispered. He began to reach around with his free hand to hold her. Both she and the Wallenstein would be his. He dipped his head towards her waiting lips.

  The pain between his legs was excruciating, making his eyes water and causing him to double over in agony. “You’re right,” Karla hissed. “You don’t know what kind of man you are until someone’s got you by the balls. Hayden! Grab his gun!”

  The smaller woman was grappling for his wrist with one hand as the other remained clamped around his crotch. She was surprisingly strong for such a small woman, and Lars saw that he had greatly underestimated her. Seeing her companion moving forward, with a snarl Lars snapped up his free hand and smacked her across the face, a powerful blow that sent her sprawling away from him so that she crashed into the wall of the cabin.

  He turned to face Hayden once more and bring his gun to bear, but the other man was already on him, grappling his right arm and using his strength to try and prise the weapon from Lars’s grip. The shock movement made Lars’s trigger finger twitch and the small room was filled for an instant with a deafening noise which caused Hayden to flinch, but not before he landed a punch in Lars’s stomach that caused the Norwegian to double over, dropping the gun as he did so.

  Lars could see the other man’s legs in front of him and felt strong, powerful hands grab hold of his shoulders. He was furious at how he’d been tricked, but he forced his mind to clear and become calm. Hayden Carter was clearly no brawler: in this position he would have been able to land a couple of swift, hard kicks into Lars’s face, but instead he was dragging Lars upright so that he could punch him in the face.

  Lars allowed himself to be yanked into position, ignoring the pain in his stomach and the lingering ache in his crotch. Hayden had his right fist drawn back, ready to smack the Norwegian in the mouth, but once he was upright Lars launched forward with his head, butting Hayden hard in the nose. There was a cry of shock and pain as blood spurt from the taller man’s nose and Hayden staggered back a couple of feet, losing his balance.

  Immediately, Lars was on him. He hit out with the heel of his palm, a forceful blow against Hayden’s chin that forced his neck to arch backwards so that Lars could chop across it. Hayden was fighting back, and a couple of punches he landed on Lars’s chest almost knocked the wind out of the wiry hitman, but he managed to keep his breath and instead wrapped his gloved fingers around Hayden’s neck, savagely kneeing him in the groin at the same time so that Hayden let out a yell of agony.

  “You stupid fool!” Lars hissed into his face, savouring the panic that was forming in Hayden’s eyes as the gloved hands began to squeeze in a deathly grip. “I can kill you without a gun.”

  Hayden was grappling at Lars’s hands, trying to pull them off. His innate strength meant that he managed to relax Lars’s grip slightly, but not enough to free himself. Again Lars headbutted him: had he dared release his hold on the powerfully built man’s neck, he would have gouged his eyes out, but instead he concentrated on squeezing the life out of his opponent. After a few more seconds, he could already feel Hayden starting to weaken.

  “You’re lucky,” he snarled. “You’ll die quickly. That bitch will beg me to hurry up and finish her after what I’m about to do to her.”

  “If you think I’ll ever do that, then you’ll be the lucky one.” Karla’s voice was the last thing he heard before there was an excruciating explosion of pain in the back of his skull and he plummeted into darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen: Karla

  Karla felt a mixture of relief and fear as Lars collapsed to the floor. Her arm was aching from the fire extinguisher she’d used to crack him on the head with and she let it fall with a clatter next to Lars’s prostate body.

  “Oh my god,” she said quietly. “Do you think I’ve killed him?”

  “Let’s bloody hope so,” Hayden grumbled, lifting himself from where he’d slumped against the floor before the Norwegian’s onslaught. She looked up at him, noticing for the fi
rst time that blood splattered his mouth, some drops having fallen onto his shirt where they’d dripped from his nose.

  “Shit,” he gasped. “I think he was about to throttle me.” He reached up tentatively to his nose and winced.

  “Here, let me have a look.” She stretched out her hand tenderly, making him wince again. “Looks like you’ll have a fighter’s nose,” she said, half-smiling, half watching him pitifully.

  “Remind me never to do that again,” Hayden sighed. He was about to say something else when both of them heard a groan from behind them. Karla turned around and began to move towards the fire extinguisher once more, but Hayden grabbed her hand. “Leave it!” he barked. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  As they burst from the cabin door, Karla clutching her bag once more, they saw that the sky was turning a glimmering grey. “How much longer have we got till we land?” Hayden asked, half dragging Karla past a knot of people who looked at his bloodied face with disgust.

  “I’m not sure. An hour, maybe?”

  He led her into one of the canteen areas on the ship where people were gathering to eat before the ferry pulled into Dublin. “If we can lose ourselves in the crowd,” Hayden hissed, “we might be able to lose him. He can’t track you now.”

  Karla nodded silently. Her mind was whirring now, alert and attentive. Around the room she could see various clusters of people sleeping while others ate with tired eyes. A few hardened types were already starting their day’s drinking. She could feel Hayden’s body tense up beside her and turned to face the direction in which he was looking.

  Lars was staggering into the canteen, one hand on the back of his head, the other dangling by his side, the gun clearly visible.

  “He wouldn’t, not here!” Karla began to say. “Would he?”

  Before Hayden could reply, Lars saw them and lifted his hand groggily. There was a flash and a loud retort, causing several people to scream as glass shattered somewhere behind Karla and Hayden.

  “The stupid bastard’s angry enough to try!” Hayden cried, taking Karla’s hand once more and pulling her towards a nearby exit.

  They left confusion behind them as they pitched onto the deck, rolling slightly as the ferry hit some turbulence in the water. “Oh god,” moaned Hayden. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Karla ignored him, taking the lead as she ran up a short flight of steps that led onto one of the upper decks. There were no cabins up here and she could hear shouts from down below.

  “Quick! Over there,” she shouted, steadying Hayden as he found his feet. Around them she could see the wide expanse of the grey sea, the sky becoming red as the sun slowly rose. In the distance, the mottled strip of the Irish coast was at last coming into view. She pressed Hayden’s hand and led him to a funnel that rose up from the metal surface pitching and rolling beneath their feet.

  As they rounded the wide turret they heard more footsteps behind them. “We just need to keep him off for a little longer,” Hayden said, glancing around him. “There’s no way they’re going to allow a maniac like that to run around this ship with a gun.” The footsteps were getting closer and, coming to the front of the ship’s funnel they saw to their despair that there was no way down. Ahead of them a railing looked over to one of the lower decks, while on either side it dropped down to the waves below.

  “Shit! Fucking shit!” Karla howled. “He’s going to get us!”

  “Wait!” Hayden cried, equally panicked. “Give me the Wallenstein.”

  She stared at him in utter confusion, not realising what he was talking about for a few moments. “What’s the point?” she asked. “He’s going to kill us and take it anyway!”

  “Just give me the fucking diamond!” Hayden hissed, his eyes blazing in terror. As she fumbled in her bag, opening the inner pocket where she’d stashed the Wallenstein, both of them heard Lars as he turned the corner.

  The Norwegian was not quite as punch drunk as when they’d seen him earlier, but he still struggled to keep his feet beneath him as the ship lurched from side to side. Nonetheless he smiled at them ferally, his head looking even more like a skull. Glancing at him briefly, Hayden turned his attention back to Karla as she handed him the diamond.

  “That was… very foolish of you, Ms Pietersen,” he shouted above the wind. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “Oh yeah?” Karla shouted back with false bravado. “I’d like to see you try!”

  “It will be my pleasure,” Lars snarled, moving forward with the gun pointed at the pair of them. The sky was brightening now, and Karla moaned as she saw the look in his eyes.

  “I don’t want to die,” she whispered, pressing herself into Hayden who placed one arm around her, hugging her close to him. He lifted the other hand into the air, and something in his fingers glittered. Karla looked desperately from the diamond and towards the approaching shore—so close and yet so far away.

  “You want this, Lars?” Hayden called out. Lars was less than a dozen paces away from them now, holding onto the railing to steady himself.

  “Of course I want it, Mister Carter. But first I’m going to kill you and that bitch by your side and throw you overboard for the fish to feast on.”

  “The water looks very inviting,” Hayden replied. His voice sounded firm, defiant, but Karla could feel that his body was trembling as Lars came closer. Nonetheless, the Norwegian had slowed down, no doubt wondering what Hayden intended to do with the Wallenstein—as indeed did Karla? Did he have some cunning plan to exchange it for their lives?

  “Let’s hope it’s not freezing!” Hayden shouted and then, to the amazement of both Karla and Lars he pulled back his arm and threw the stone overboard.

  For a second, everything seemed to come to a halt. Karla felt her heart stop and saw that Lars was staring at Hayden with utter horror. Then, the world moved into fast forward and, with a roar, the Norwegian ran in the direction that Hayden had thrown the Wallenstein. For the briefest instant he held onto the railing, staring at the waves and then, to Karla’s shock, he flung himself over the flimsy rails and disappeared from view.

  “Bloody hell!” Hayden gasped. “He did it!” He quickly pulled his arm from Karla’s shoulder and ran to the spot where Lars had vanished. Karla followed him and, looking behind in the ship’s wake, could see a blond head bob up for a moment before it shot down beneath the water once more.

  She was frozen to the spot, unable to comprehend what had happened. Then, without warning, she turned on Hayden and began to punch him with all her strength.

  “You bastard!” she howled. “You stupid, stupid bastard! You lost it! You bloody lost it!”

  Hayden made no reply but held onto her with his strong hands, fixing her there as she struggled in his grip and, finally, began to calm down.

  “Have you got the key?” he asked.

  “What?” Her face betrayed her utter confusion. “What key? What are you talking about?”

  “The key to the safe box at Heathrow. Did you keep it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her head was reeling with anger and despair. Hayden was staring at her with a peculiar calmness, his blue eyes fixed on her, blood drying beneath his nose.

  “Just a simple yes or no. Have you got it?”

  She nodded her head and he finally released her, a smile forming on her face.

  “What is it?” she asked. “What’s so important about that key?”

  “I was trying to explain before that lunatic turned up. You went to Euston and took the Wallenstein, except it wasn’t the Wallenstein.”

  “What are you talking about?” She was feeling her temper rise again and, more than anything, wanted to punch the conceited Englishman on his nose. Then, just as the dawn was filtering across the Irish Sea, the lights slowly went on behind her eyes.

  “It was Maarten’s fake, wasn’t it.”

  Grinning, Hayden nodded his head. “I stole it from Boeckman’s. That’s the stone I put in the locker at Eust
on.”

  “So, where is it?” she asked, refusing to believe him for a moment. “The real one?”

  “Where you left it, at Heathrow.”

  “What the…?” Karla was stunned. “How the… When the…?”

  “A double bluff.” Hayden couldn’t wipe the grin off his face now. “I thought it would be the last place you’d look—after all, who’d be that stupid, right? In any case, I’d have to leave the country soon to get rid of it, and that way I could have constant security on it.”

  “You bloody arrogant, beautiful, annoying, wonderful bastard!” Karla cried, lifting herself onto her toes and throwing her arms around his shoulders to drag his head down for a kiss. Hayden winced again as she crushed his nose, but he didn’t pull away as she sucked him into her mouth, drinking him up in a passionate fury. Then a thought shot through her brain and she pulled away.

  “You weren’t coming to save me at all,” she snapped. “You shit! You were just after the key all along.” She slapped him, hard, across the face and enjoyed the sight of his eyes watering as she caught his broken nose.

  “What the hell?” he gasped. “That’s not true at all! Bloody hell, Karla! That man was going to kill you if I didn’t warn you. You can keep your bloody diamond if it’s so important to you.”

  That threw her. She stood there for a moment looking at him in utter confusion. Inside, she felt as though her guts were going to rise up in rebellion and a fire was burning in her belly. And before her stood the most handsome, horny, honest-to-god best lay she’d ever had in her life. Without warning she threw her arms around him and snogged him as though she were a teenager experiencing her first kiss. Hayden winced once more, but this time he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet.

  “Come on,” he said at last. “We better get out of here before anyone comes looking for us. How long do you think we have to lay low?” he asked. She glanced towards the approaching shore.