The Shadow Of Medea (Luke Temple Series Book 1)

by James Flynn

As the lady took a breath, Seona thought she heard a sob.

  “There has been a terrible accident...terrible. I’m very sorry to have to inform you Miss Latvik but ... but ...”

  The lady on the phone was fighting back tears.

  “Viktor’s been found ... dead. He was found a few hours ago ... I’m letting all close friends and relatives know ... dreadful ... I am so sorry.”

  Seona kept the phone to her ear, but her whole body went numb and her legs crumbled beneath her.

  13.

  “What happened to you?” Razor had taken up a seat next to Bobby on the bed.

  “Bobby here decided to try and throw a surprise party.”

  Razor broke into a broad smile. “Ah Bobby you shouldn’t have, not my birthday for a while.”

  Bobby smiled gingerly at the comment, and dabbed the cut on his cheek, checking that it had finally sealed. All the while, Lennon stood against the wall next to the door in silence.

  “Right, let’s get things shifting.” Luke stood and grabbed the bedside table, moving it over in front of the bed. Bobby and Razor moved closer together to sit behind it, and Lennon and Luke took up positions on the other side.

  “Let’s check hard copy first.” Luke knew that the less time they spent together as a group, the smaller the chance of compromise.

  Lennon and Razor produced an array of photographs from separate rucksacks: shots of the target, her bodyguards and different sections of the entrance to the Plaza and 59th Street.

  Luke’s eyes were taken by a single shot of the target about to enter her limousine, it was a close-up. He couldn’t help but see a tinge of sadness in her eyes.

  “It’s like we thought, the four guys are for show, basic.” Lennon’s voice punctured Luke’s thoughts. “They run little or no differentials, it’s the same procedure every trip, in or out. They have two that go straight into the foyer, take up positions by the entrance and lift.” He passed Luke a covert picture of the bodyguards in the foyer. “The other two escort her in from the street and up to her room. Same on the way out.”

  Luke picked up the thread. “They’re green these boys, Russian. From their Siberian/Mongolian dialect I’d say they’re from the south east, tough bastards down there.”

  Lennon carried on the analysis with the same calm, professional tone he had adopted in Caffé Reggio. “I’d say they are ex-Soviet Army, by their conduct I severely doubt they’re Spetsnaz or GRU.”

  Luke had encountered Spetsnaz and GRU before in Afghanistan. They were not to be taken lightly, they were not as well trained as British forces, but twice as ruthless – killing was almost a passion for them. He, too, had concluded that the bodyguards didn’t qualify. They were most likely private contractors with a good army record. Russian army pay was lousy even by British standards. There was a lot of money to be made from private work, especially with oil and gas businesses attracting attention out east.

  Leaning back, Razor picked up the analysis, “These guys aren’t switched on. They reckon the closer they are to the target, the better they can protect her, but they are packing, and you wouldn’t exactly want to stand toe to toe with these guys. All four are carrying American-made Beretta 92FS semi-automatic pistols, and I’ve spotted at least two PP-19 Bizon sub-machine guns made by their Russian masters. If these boys get a chance they’ll light us up like a Dutch brothel.”

  Luke was impressed with the weaponry, all close-range automatics. They could certainly pack a punch if challenged. He also deduced that Prussias Latvik must have powerful connections in the US; even if they flew in via a private airfield, the Americans would want serious lengthy inspections of legalities for that amount of firepower. Luke had clocked only the Berettas whilst tailing the group around the city.

  “Ok, so they can defend themselves, but not attack, they won’t be expecting a snatch and grab from under their noses. In and out, fast and furious. We’ll be gone before they can flick the safeties off.” Luke continued sifting through the photos as he spoke.

  “What about a diversion tactic? We could run a quick tester, see if they buy it, get their attention, sweep in and grab daddy’s little girl.” Razor lacked conviction in his suggestion.

  Luke responded, “Wouldn’t work. These boys are obviously intent on protecting her from a touching distance. They wouldn’t go for a diversion; they’d be out of their comfort zone. They would just shut up shop around her and move.”

  “Which means we have to split them,” surmised Lennon

  Luke nodded absently at the statement, then turned sharply towards Bobby; “What have we got to counter their machinery?”

  Bobby dived for a sports bag that was at the end of the bed, he had all the energy of a small child trying to redeem themself in the eyes of a teacher.

  “Man, I got us some good stuff right here. First up we have a very reliable friend of my country, the Browning BDA 9 mm, all yours.” He passed out the semi-automatic pistol to each member.

  Bobby rummaged in the bag and pulled out more weapons. “Here we have two M4 assault rifles. Personally I prefer the M-16, but I know the need for compact use on this one. The M4 has a collapsible butt and we love it over here for close quarters, and middle range, semi-automatic or three burst rounds.” He was beginning to show off with his haul. “Also, I have very kindly got hold of these.” He pulled two more from his bag of tricks. “To make you feel at home, I got us some nice little MP5 subs.”

  Luke was pleased that he would be working with familiar weapons; it allowed him to concentrate on other matters.

  “I assumed within each team we’d have a driver and a fighter, split a rifle and sub between the two teams, light up those motherfuckers.” Bobby looked at Luke for a small sign of redemption. Luke wasn’t about to indulge him, but he did now feel slightly more confident with the chances of striking the bodyguards and hitting them hard.

  As the two Brits checked over the weapons, Luke laid down his ideas.

  “The best time to get her will be on her return from a night out, she has always returned between 2.30 a.m. and 3.30 a.m. They use the 4x4 on evening excursions with a Russian doubling as a driver – we’ll be waiting. I want Lennon and Razor to take up position in the Focus parked south east of the entrance. Bobby and I will approach from the west of 59th. If needs be, fire can be laid down to ensnare the Russians without risk to ourselves. Razor, you and I are going to actually undertake the physicality of the lift. You will approach the entrance from the park side of the street and come directly at it; I will be coming from the west side. We’ll wait for the two to go inside, then scissor the remaining pair. Lennon you cover the entrance with the M4, if you get a glimpse of the others returning outside, drop them.”

  Luke aimed the next question at Bobby, “What are we using for wheels?”

  “Mazda CX-9, it’s very sharp, my man, good storage space too. It has the added luxury of not making any sort of visual statement.” Bobby yet again seemed to enjoy the reveal.

  Luke was still not willing to grant him any praise. “Bobby will pull close at the point of the lift, we dump her in the boot and we’re gone. I assume you two have your routes and extraction planned?”

  Lennon nodded sharply and Razor quipped, “Thought I might stay for another couple of days, soak up the atmosphere, it is bloody quiet this time of year though.”

  The others joined in with the mood relief. Both Razor and Lennon had stripped their weapons and were inspecting the individual parts.

  “Right, we get into position early hours of Friday morning. Razor and Lennon will spend the next twenty-four hours monitoring the hotel. The trigger will be the arrival of the 4x4; Razor, me and you will go instantly mobile and hit them hard, hopefully it’ll all be over within seconds. Ok, any questions?”

  Lennon looked as though he was going to ask something, but remained silent, packing the parts of his gun into the rucksack. Razor was doing the same, then raised his head and asked, “Are we tying her?”

  “I doubt it, we
will dump her in the boot as quickly as possible, especially if we’re engaging with Russia’s finest, but bring some tape just in case. If there are no more questions then you two go and sort where you’ll be meeting before the job tomorrow. Bobby, you stay here, we have things to organise.”

  “Dudes, before you go you may want to strap these on, added comfort.” Bobby again rummaged in his magic bag and produced two bulletproof vests.

  Luke had one final word to the Brits: ‘Remember, she is to be taken alive.’

  Razor and Lennon left with a simple nod of the head; the room now contained just Luke and his American cousin.

  “Right let’s see the route up to the airfield, looks like me and you are going to be taking a road trip together.” Luke stared intently at Bobby.

  14.

  The air still contained an element of warmth as Luke pulled up the neck of his jumper so that it covered more of his flesh. As he walked he was amazed at the life contained in tiny light-filled shops as he passed, it was as if it was the middle of the day inside. He passed at least three twenty-four-hour hair salons, all creating the latest Afro-Caribbean trends, and as he turned the corner, the sweet smell of fresh fruit and vegetables floated out from white-tiled all-night greengrocers. The smells reminded him of when he used to venture down to the farmers market with Sarah. They used to spend a day collecting produce then she would cook a fresh delight; the night would end with a cuddle on the sofa, and then bed…for no more than a fleeting beat Luke could picture it.

  Turning the corner onto the street where the payphone stood, Luke could hear a low mumbling coming from a bar that lay below street level; a green neon sign stated the bar was called Cody’s, another in a long line of Irish-themed pubs and bars dotted over the city. Standing with his back to the bar, for the first time in many years Luke wished that he was in England making the call, at least there phone boxes allowed privacy. Here he had to make do with a phone attached to a metal pole.

  After only two rings a well-spoken woman answered, “Hello, how may I help?”

  In the most familiar tone he could muster Luke replied, “Hi, it’s me, Mum, You couldn’t do me a favour and check the scores for me? Silly bars over here don’t show the footy. It’s 224 on Teletext.”

  The line went quiet momentarily, and then the familiar high-pitched noise became constant.

  “Speak.” The male voice was sharp.

  “Hey Dad, having a great time over here, turns out that the big party is happening tomorrow night, should be really good, won’t finish till about three, which means I’ll fly home late Friday morning all being well. Be good to see you.” Luke kept the friendly tone.

  “Good, enjoy.” The receiver went dead.

  Luke grabbed the unused credit from the return tray and shoved the coins into his pocket. As he passed the familiar white-tiled greengrocers, he felt he deserved a fresh snack; after all he needed all the vitamins he could get.

  15.

  Friday 22nd July

  The light flicked on, then off, and then on again, causing coloured dots to float across Seona’s eyes as the darkness disappeared and re-appeared. The bedside lamp had been an involuntary distraction.

  Becoming tired with the lamp, she sat up to relieve the numbness in her arm. The light from the lamp was too much for her, leaning back and flicking the switch, the room was once again plunged into darkness; the only bit of light was creeping from under the door connecting her suite with her bodyguard’s room.

  Sitting in the dark, Seona began to feel the sting around her eyes. She had not left the hotel since hearing the news about Viktor just over twenty-four hours ago. She once again rubbed her eyes to somehow cleanse the soreness; she also wished the rubbing would magically bring her back to reality.

  Blowing out a sharp breath of air, her shoes dropped into a six hundred-dollar heap on the floor; there was no way she would be heading back into the heart of the metropolis tonight. She had got ready and dressed, determined not to let anyone down, but she just couldn’t bring herself to leave. She was sure that Caroline would understand.

  The news that Viktor Struanz’s body had been found in a hotel in King’s Cross had literally struck Seona dumb. Viktor had been found with a high level of heroin in his blood, and the cause of death was a drug-induced heart attack. The woman on the phone had said something about needing to wait for an official inquest.

  Viktor Struanz had moved to England with Seona and her family. He had been a member of the Russian parliament, dealing in foreign business transactions, but had developed a drink problem and been classed as a nuisance, being kicked out of office in disgrace. Seona’s father had thought this crazy, as the President at the time, Mr Yeltsin, was a well-known alcoholic. Prussias Latvik had vowed to help Viktor; he took him into his company, nursing him back to health, finally allowing him to head up international affairs within the gas conglomerate. Viktor had grown to be a very firm fixture within the Latvik family, even now in the darkness she could hear his laughter at her childhood party piece when she would try to tell Viktor and her father how they could make more money if they would only listen to her.

  Tears began to silently fall from her blue eyes, causing them to glisten. Seona’s head was whirling, nothing seemed to add up, and why wasn’t she able to get hold of her father? She just wanted to hear a reassuring voice, someone to tell her that things would be ok. Her bodyguards had shrunk in size as she had poured out her grief earlier, they had vacated to their suite, running for the hills at her display of emotion. She had considered calling Uncle Peter, but what would she say? Uncle Peter was the most capable man she had ever known, nothing fazed him, always a calm presence and a loving touch, but he could not abide weakness. It would be best to contact him when she was back in England.

  Tomorrow she would fly home, she wanted to be around familiarity, wanted to be around people that cared for Viktor. His poor wife Lorraine, she must be devastated. Seona had to be there. She would grab a flight tomorrow as early as possible. She checked the time on her Cartier watch; it was 2 a.m. She would call the airfield later in the morning to let them know she would need her jet ready to head back to London as soon as possible.

  Having decided that she would leave tomorrow, she seemed to release herself from her thought paralysis. She slowly walked across to the various parts of her mobile phone scattered over the floor; she had thrown it at the wall in anger and despair when she was told for the third time that she couldn’t reach her father. Did he know Viktor was dead? Laying the pieces on the bed, Seona began putting them together like a jigsaw, manufacturing a slight hope that there would be a message from her father waiting, telling her that there had been a mistake and that Viktor was fine. She couldn’t believe how long she had been sat in her room, lost in thought; she still wore the thinly-cut dress that had been bought from Armani only four days previously.

  The high-pitched beeping alerted Seona to the fact she had answer phone messages waiting. She closed her eyes as she listened to the messages, willing the voice to be that of her father.

  “Hey honey, it’s Caro. Where are you? Ahh it’s such a great night; wish you were here! Are you ok? If you feel like joining later then just give me a call. Love you hun!”

  “It’s me again babe, can’t believe you’re not out, miss you so much! It’s so good, there’s a really cute guy, think he likes me! Call you tomorrow honey.”

  Seona sank onto the bed and threw her head back to rest on the beautifully soft duvet. She wanted to scream at how helpless she felt, she couldn’t stand the feeling. I don’t do helpless.

  She couldn’t stand it anymore; the four walls felt like they were catching her thoughts and throwing them back at her. She needed to get out, to be by herself. She just wanted to walk aimlessly without anyone, to let the background of the city absorb her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had just strolled down a street in complete solitude, without being flanked by friends or bodyguards. The slit of light suddenly clicked off in the b
odyguard’s suite, leaving Seona with the problem of bypassing the other two Russian statues stood outside the door to the hallway.

  16.

  The small moped sped past the parked up Mazda, flying towards its next destination with a well-made Italian pizza.

  “Man, I could really go for some pizza right now, I’m starving.”

  Bobby’s comment didn’t deter Luke’s gaze, he was staring down the road at the illuminated entrance of the Plaza. Just past the entrance, further down the road on the opposite side was parked the Ford Focus containing Lennon and Razor. The anxiety seeping from Luke’s pores seemed to be creating a tension that gripped the whole length of 59th and 5th.

  Luke’s mind raced to the page he had received earlier from the Brit pair.

  Routine has altered. Target has not left hotel all day. Keep lines open until you arrive. Contact if you alter.

  There was nothing Luke could do. He had known that the plan was loose and based on limited surveillance, but then there was no such thing as a completely efficient plan. He had decided that as long as she stayed in the hotel then they would proceed as planned. It was still a possibility that she would leave to head out to an all-night bar, they were apparently all the rage here in New York. Ultimately, the team were losing nothing by laying in wait for her. Luke had also decided that if she hadn’t appeared by 3.30 a.m. then they would abort for the night, and head back again the following evening. Like the Brit pair had suggested, Luke had kept the beeper on for the past two hours, but had heard nothing suggesting the target had moved from the hotel.

  The electronic dashboard told Luke that it was now 2.06 a.m. The soft wind whistled in the crack between the slightly wound-down window and the car frame. The odd person strolled past on the pavement, but the streets were not busy. Luke rustled in his seat to stop numbness setting in, the Browning shifting slightly as he did so. He had slotted it under his left thigh with the trigger sticking out, that way if Luke needed to draw quickly then he would not be fumbling around with the waistband of his jeans. Bobby had placed his pistol into a shoulder holster that held it under his left arm, and he had also tucked the M4 behind his seat. Luke wanted fast movement so the MP5 lay behind his seat for later.