Knutson nodded back. “That was our thinking too, and to that end we’ll…”
The meeting took three hours and two pots of room service coffee. When it was over, we had a plan of attack in place as well as phony passports, driver licenses, and credit cards.
“David and Maria Reo?” I said. “So, we’re married, we’ll have to buy rings.”
“Don’t bother, just write down your sizes and we’ll have them delivered to you,” Lawson said.
I smiled. “It’s nice to work with professionals.”
“We try.”
Ramón held up his passport.
“This is very helpful, but we’ll also need weapons.”
Lawson sighed. “Because of the nature of this operation, we’ll have to use an outsider, but he comes recommended. His name and address will be delivered later with the rings.”
As he was leaving, Lawson told us one last thing.
“We’re helping you, but you’ll be on your own over there. If it all goes to hell, run to the American embassy, also, although I left you that emergency contact number, this is still likely the last time we’ll meet.”
“Thank you, Lawson, and thank our mutual friend when you see him.”
“I’ll do that, and you two stay safe.”
Our plane didn’t leave until the next morning, so we took the night to relax. The room we were in had a balcony. I was sitting out on it, just gazing into space and thinking.
When Ramón joined me on the wicker sofa, he didn’t say anything, but just sat beside me. I welcomed the silence, as I was in a pensive mood.
“Did I tell you that Gary proposed to me?”
Ramón shook his head no.
“He asked me to marry him, I accepted, then, within a matter of hours, it was over. I think he only wanted to marry me to change me, to make me give up bounty hunting.”
“You are who you are, Blue, and who you are is a woman who likes a challenge, likes the chase, and someone who isn’t afraid of danger.”
“I was still tempted. I’ve always dreamed of having my own ranch someday, of raising horses, and Gary and his family own a ranch in Bandera. If I had married him, in a way, I could have fulfilled that dream.”
“Do you miss him… regret us?”
I turned and took Ramón’s face in my hands.
“No, oh honey no, despite all the turmoil that’s been happening, finding you, the real you, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. You accept me, all of me. That means a lot.”
We were quiet again. I leaned over and laid across Ramón’s lap, looking up at him.
“London is going to be dangerous,” I said.
“Yes, but we’ll have the element of surprise; it will give us the advantage we need.”
“We’ll have to kill her, won’t we?”
“Anything less and she’ll find a way to hit back.”
“Then we’ll kill her, and anyone else who threatens us, because we’re coming back here and we’re going to discover what we can be together. I want that life; I want that new chance.”
He leaned over and kissed me.
“All I want is you.”
We landed at Heathrow Airport and I found it exciting. I had never been to London, and as the taxi drove us to our hotel, I found myself wishing that I was just another tourist.
We checked in and, feeling grubby from our travels, we bathed together in the room’s huge tub. I began tossing suds playfully at Ramón. He splashed me back, soaking my hair, and then we kissed until we slid into the water, and stayed under until our lungs nearly burst. When we came up for air, we began making love.
My hair was still a bit damp two hours later as we entered the luggage shop on Oxford Street. We walked directly back to the counter, where a young blond man with glasses was working the register. He seemed startled when he looked up and saw us.
“Yes… how may I help you?”
“Hello, we’re here to see a Mr. Paladin,” Ramón said, and I watched the store clerk’s eyes widen just a touch.
“Standby please.”
The clerk picked up the phone on the counter.
“Father, the buyers are here—yes, a man and a woman—all right, I’ll send them right back.”
He hung up the phone and pointed to a door on the right. As Ramón gripped the doorknob, the clerk hit a button and the door buzzed and opened. It revealed a narrow corridor with a door at the other end.
The clerk spoke again. “Just walk down and knock.”
We went forward, the sound of our heels clicking on the tile floor and echoing off the walls. I was wearing shoes. I had left my cowgirl boots behind in the hotel. They might have made me stand out, particularly the turquoise pair that I usually wore when I wasn’t working. I didn’t think we should stand out or be memorable in any way. We needed to fly below the radar until we took care of Natalie Stone.
When we reached the end of the corridor, we knocked. The blond man who opened the door looked like an older and heavier version of the man up front at the counter.
“Come in, come in.”
We walked into a storage room, where luggage was stacked on rolling metal carts and against the walls on wooden shelving that reached to the ceiling.
“You are both American, right?”
“Yes,” I said. “Were you able to get what we ordered?”
“Of course, I always deliver, now follow me.”
We followed along as he walked past a row of shelves and made a left. We found ourselves looking at our weapons. They were laid out atop a long table as if they were on display.
“Don’t be afraid to pick up every item and check it over; it will not offend me.”
We were already checking things as he spoke. We weren’t interested in his feelings; we were concerned with arming ourselves with reliable weapons.
We had ordered two Glock 31’s. The .357 weapons were relatively small and could be concealed under street clothes.
“What about the ammo?” I asked.
The man pointed to a box on the table.
“It’s in there, along with the spare magazines.”
Ramón held up a knife with an eight-inch serrated blade and checked it for sharpness. I would also be carrying a knife, although I disliked them. Cutting someone was nasty work and I’d much rather use a gun, but sometimes you don’t get to choose.
Ramón gestured at the guns. “Holsters?”
“Shoulder rig or hip?”
“Shoulder rig for me, Hon?”
I shook my head.
“I’ll take it as is.”
“I’ll also need a sheath for the knife.”
“No problem, sir.”
Along with the weapons, we also had two pairs of handcuffs, as it might become necessary to restrain someone at some point. While we checked our items and took inventory, I watched the man who was providing it all. I wondered which was the sideline, the gun business, or the luggage?
Once we were done, the man placed nearly everything into a carton for transport, and we exited the way we had entered. As we walked past him, I noticed that the man at the counter was on the phone. I assumed he was talking to his father, to make sure that all went well.
I soon discovered that my assumption was false.
No sooner had we left the shop when a taxi pulled up to the curb and the driver called to us.
“Pardon, but was it you who called for a taxi?”
“We didn’t call, but we could use one,” Ramón said.
“Hop in then,” the man said, he wore a cap with sunglasses and had a thick British accent.
Once we were inside the black car, the man drove eight-hundred feet and made a sharp turn into an underground garage, which had a sign out front that told you it was closed for refurbishment.
As the alarm bells in my head went off, I looked over to warn Ramón and found that he was sliding out his knife. It was the one item that hadn’t gone into the box we carried with us. I was about to tell him to tear open the box
to get at the ammunition and guns. That’s when the car came to a violent stop and the cab driver turned and pointed a pistol at us.
“Hands, let me see your hands!”
We raised our hands up so that he could see that they were empty, and I wondered what Ramón had done with the knife. Then I spotted it embedded about four inches into the back of the passenger’s seat, too low to be seen unless the driver looked down over the back of the seat.
The window on the left side of the car, Ramón’s side, slid down.
“Toss that package out the window, and give it a good throw, eh?”
Ramón did as ordered, and then the man got out of the car.
“You two get out on this side now. We’re almost done.”
As he got out of the seat, Ramón freed the knife. When he stepped outside, Ramón brought the blade up in a sweeping arc. It caught the man beneath the chin, and a spray of blood flew from the man’s throat.
The man fired once, but the shot went toward the floor, then, the gun dropped as his hands flew to his throat to stanch the bleeding. However, the cut was too deep, the gash too deadly, and he sank to the floor inside a pool of red.
“Are you all right, Blue?”
I went to Ramón and checked him for an injury, fearful that the ricocheting bullet might have struck him.
“I’m good, Ramón, and we’re both safe thanks to you. Thank God, you held onto the knife.”
“The man at the counter when we left, did you notice?”
“Yes, he was on the phone, but I thought that he was checking with his father, now it looks as if he has another partner.”
“You don’t think the father was also involved?”
“No,” I said, and gestured at the man lying dead before us. “If he were involved, then this one would have known about the knife.”
“Yes, that sounds right, now I think I’ll go introduce this blade to the son.”
“No. That shop is full of people, and we need to fly low. We’ll just report the incident to Lawson. They need to find a new third-party arms dealer.”
We wiped our prints off the taxi, scooped up our box of weapons, and left the rest as it was.
As we emerged back onto the street, I pointed across at a shop window.
“I need to make a stop. I want to buy something for our next plan of action.”
“What’s that?”
“A disguise.”
“A disguise?”
I pecked him on the lips.
“I think you’ll like it.”
Back at the hotel, I went to work on my disguise, while Ramón called the emergency number that Lawson had given us. They had to be warned about their double-dealing gun supplier. He didn’t make the call from the room, but instead, went outside to find a payphone. He would use a phony debit card to pay for the charges.
I had been in the bathroom for a while when I heard Ramón tap on the door.
“You’re still in there, aren’t you? You didn’t accidentally flush yourself?”
“I’ll be out in a second, why, do you need to use it?”
“No, I used the one in the lobby, but tell me, what kind of disguise takes this long to put on; I will still recognize you, won’t I?”
I swung the door open.
“You tell me; do I still look the same?”
Ramón’s jaw dropped, and he whispered something in Spanish. I had dyed my dark hair a brilliant blonde, something I’d never done before. I thought it made me look quite different.
“Ramón, do you like it?”
He kissed me on the mouth, then laughed.
“It feels like I’m cheating on you with another woman.”
I crinkled my eyes.
“Why don’t you take her for a spin?”
The next thing I knew I was in his arms and headed for the bed.
Later on, we ordered room service and feasted. Neither of us had eaten since leaving Texas.
As it approached midnight, we got ready for our next move.
One of Natalie Stone’s known associates was a man named Martin Bruener, a suspected bomb maker. Bruener was known to practically live at a bar called The Saloon and considered himself a ladies’ man. In reality, it was his wealth that was attractive.
We were hoping to lure Bruener somewhere private, where we could interrogate him, and I was to be the bait on the hook.
The red dress I wore was so small that I was in constant danger of flashing, while my matching shoes were six-inch stilettos.
Ramón looked at me with disapproval.
“Do you have to wear that?”
“You read his profile; you know the type of women he likes.”
“Harlots!”
“Exactly, and I have to look the part.”
“Take that off! There’s no way I’m going to let you be groped just so we can get information.”
“Let me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Why did you agree to the plan in the first place?”
“It’s one thing to talk about it, and it’s another to—do you want to do this? Do you want to… debase yourself in front of this scumbag?”
I threw my purse in a chair and sat down on the bed. The tiny dress practically rode up to my waist.
“I was doing this to help you. These people nearly killed you.”
I wiped away a tear as Ramón walked over and sat beside me, with one finger, he lifted my chin and stared into my eyes.
“Be yourself. Just be Blue Steele, my beautiful, precious Blue Steele. You’ll put the fear of God in these bastards.”
And it was at that moment that I knew I loved him.
Chapter 11
Martin Bruener left The Saloon bar & grill and climbed into a darkened cab with a woman who was not only scantily dressed, but topless. Bruener was wearing a thousand-dollar suit, but his graying beard was unkempt, and his fingernails were dirty.
As Ramón rocketed the cab away from the curb and into traffic, I greeted Bruener and the girl with a Glock in my gloved hand. I say girl, because beneath the make-up that’s what she was. The cab was the same one we had been in earlier. We went back to the garage and retrieved it but left behind the dead man who once drove it.
“Marty, what’s going on?” the girl said.
“Shut up!” Bruener told the girl in a German accent, and then he spoke to me. “What do you want?”
“Well talk, but first.”
The cab came to a halt and I opened the door on my side and spoke to the girl.
“Climb past me and get out, and for God’s sake, put your top back on.”
She started crying. “I can really go?”
“Yes, do it now.”
I held the gun unwaveringly pointed at Bruener’s face as the girl slipped from the cab.
“Close the door, and don’t call the police.”
“Okay,” the girl answered, then the door slammed, and we were back on the move.
“Natalie Stone, we want Natalie Stone.”
Bruener turned pale. “I’m not a terrorist. I don’t even know the woman.”
“She’s used bombs that came from you, do you deny it?”
“I admit nothing.”
I placed the gun against his right knee.
“I don’t have to ask you nicely.”
“All right, yes, I design explosive devices; I sell to anyone with the money, but I am not political at all.”
“How do they make contact?”
“There is a man named Hyte. Hyte is not a terrorist, but he is political and a criminal, he is the one who orders the explosives.”
“What does Hyte look like and where can we find him?”
“He is not a handsome man. He is a brute, well over six feet tall with a shaved head and bright blue eyes. He is a gourmand and owns a restaurant in Paris so he can indulge himself, it is called the Bonne Bouffe, you can find him there. Now please, let me go.”
I held up a cell phone. It showed a picture of a daycare cente
r in Rome, after one of Bruener’s bombs had exploded.
“This is the result of one of your bombs.”
He winced at the image, then turned his face away in disgust.
“I don’t use them; I just make them.”
“You’ve made your last.”
I pressed the gun against him to hide the flash, then fired three shots. Bruener jerked his head back so fast in reaction that I heard a bone crack in his neck. After a moment passed, he wheezed, slumped over, and grew still.
Ramón pulled to the curb near the entrance to the Underground and we left the cab and walked down to the tracks. We were both wearing hats with wide brims to avoid the street cameras. We’d also mapped out a route ahead of time that would allow us to return to our hotel without being tracked.
As we waited for the train, Ramón held me.
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t think I like this league. I want to go back to chasing bail skips.”
“We’ll get our lives back once this is done.”
“Our lives, I like the sound of that.”
The subway car came, and we rode it back toward the hotel, where we made plans for Paris.
The next day, we took the high-speed railway through the Channel Tunnel and arrived in Paris.
We were on the hunt and also being hunted, but I still took time to gawk like a tourist.
Paris was as beautiful a city as London. It hurt a bit not to be there to enjoy it.
“Blue, I don’t know about you, but I don’t speak a word of French.”
“I took it in high school, but I doubt I remember much. I do know that Hyte’s restaurant, the Bonne Bouffe translates to Good Food, but after that I’m lost.”
“Let’s go find the restaurant.”
“Good idea, I’m hungry.”
The restaurant was located on Rue Saint-Dominique and its outdoor café had a view of the Eiffel Tower. We sat inside, hoping to get a look at the man, and ate while we planned what to do next. No one there fit Hyte’s description. We decided to linger as long as we could and hoped that he’d show up.
Ramón looked around the restaurant.
Blue Steele Box Set Page 19
