CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning they flew to Paris and then on to Nimes. They used the executive jet to avoid customs and security. When you are carrying everything the good terrorist needs, other than guns, you have to take such precautions. The guns would be delivered to them at the airport. Charles felt they were too bulky to have with them, especially as he wanted sub machine guns and not just pistols.

Maria and he were both dressed in office clothes. Once in Nimes, they would head to the Pont du Gard near the Russian compound in Uzes. The hotel there, a modest tourist place, would be their base. It was somewhere they would never be recognised, far from the normal luxury hotels they frequented in that part of the world.

They hired a car in Nimes. It was a simple saloon, a Renault. They had no need for a fast car. They were not trying to escape from anyone, they were trying to establish who was running the Russian Mafia and whether they could do business with them. They found a quiet spot to change into less conspicuous clothes. Two business people left Nimes airport but two tourists showed up at the Pont du Gard.

They arrived at the hotel in the early afternoon and made a big show of affection in the lobby. They kept their arms around each other and kissed regularly. Charles felt gently aroused as he always did when he felt the slim body of Maria pressing against him. But the show was not a prelude to any lovemaking. It was a cover to allow them to disappear for the rest of the afternoon and get some sleep. They would be up around two a.m. That was the best time to get into the Russian compound and check out Rastinov.

Once in the room, they closed the shutters and drew the curtains. Soon they slept. The training of years on the field had taught Maria to grab sleep at any time. Charles found it more difficult, but the quietness of the place and the regular soft sound of Maria’s gentle breathing next to him in the bed soon lulled him to sleep. He woke up later and saw it was just after midnight. They had slept for around eight hours. Yet Maria slept on undisturbed.

It was a warm night and he looked at her. She was lying on the bed with a sheet partly draped over her. It ran across her waist and over her thighs. She lay on her back, her face at peace. Her dark hair was tousled but still kept its shape. The short bob never looked untidy, even after the wildest of exertions. There was a faint sheen of perspiration on her face, but it seemed to place a gloss on it. The long dark eyelashes didn’t move. The small shapely nose flared slightly with each breath. The lips were red and moist and, from time to time, her tongue seemed to dart out and lick them lovingly.

He groaned quietly to himself. The excitement ahead always aroused him. Yet he knew that he had to put that all out of his mind. The venture was going to be dangerous enough. Maria was sleeping to be on maximum form in the morning. He needed to do the same. Reason triumphed over desire and soon he fell back into a deep sleep.

Maria was dressed when she woke him. She smiled down at him, as he lay there, naked as she had been. He was half covered by the sheet. She absent-mindedly licked her lips. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled almost to herself. He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. The shower hissed and then let out a slow dribble of coldish water. He fiddled randomly with the knobs and managed to change it into a flow of slightly warmer water. The plumbing protested at the early start and rumbled loudly.

Refreshed, he towelled himself dry. He shaved and walked outside again. Maria passed him a mug of coffee. The hotel did not offer that service but she had packed the necessary. It had the acrid taste of instant coffee but the warmth and the caffeine served their purpose. They were now fully awake and focussed on the task ahead.

Like Maria, Charles pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black shirt over a similar hue T-shirt. Dark trainers completed the look. He took a body belt and tied it to his waist. That had a couple of make-up jars with a solution that would enable them to camouflage their faces and hands. It also contained all they needed to set up plastic explosive that would make a blast out of all proportion to its size.

They each carried a bag with the guns. Each of them would have an Uzi with several rounds of spare ammunition. Then they had a second gun, a handgun that would go in the leg holster that they both preferred. Finally, they had an evil looking knife with a two-sided blade and heavy handle.

Their room was on the ground floor and they left it through the window. That, in turn, they left ajar to allow an easy return. They could not be certain when they would return and in what state. The ‘do not disturb’ sign would hopefully keep out any maid. In any case, they had signed in under a false name and Maria was now expertly going round the room eliminating any evidence of their presence. Their few belongings were left but they were all recently bought from popular stores and couldn’t be traced back to them. Their travel papers were with them. They had all they needed for any possible retreat.

The car had been carefully parked away from the hotel. That avoided anyone identifying it and had allowed them to pretend their arrival had been by train or taxi. Covering their tracks and confusing any pursuer was second nature at times like this.

They drove along the dark, winding roads of the French countryside. The morning had not yet announced its arrival. They had another two or three hours before dawn. The car contained the sensors that would allow them to scan the house and establish the presence, or otherwise, of Rastinov or Turpin. If Rastinov were there, their objective would be to kill him. If Turpin were there, they would see if they could start to negotiate a deal.

The car purred round the deserted corners and along the quiet roads of that rocky corner of France. They skirted Uzes itself, sleeping, in the absence of its transient summer population, in all the calm of its recently acquired bourgeois tranquillity. They headed along roads that were familiar to Charles. Years earlier, he had been there in more desperate times when Jacqui had been captured and tortured by the inhabitants of the Russian compound. Then they had attacked in force and left behind a trail of destruction and death. This time their mission was more secretive. They had to ensure they were not seen before they had established whom they would be seeing themselves.

They left the car about a mile from the compound, in bushes just off the road. They would be able to make a fast getaway from that point, over the rocky, rough ground and onto the straight section of the road. But the car would not be seen, at least while it was still dark.

They walked the rest of the way to the compound and came to the high wall. They reconnoitred from afar, saw that the security cameras did not cover all areas. They identified an unsupervised part. The wall at that point was well over two metres high. Charles held his hands together and Maria used that as a foothold. His arms were down and she climbed up, her thighs pressing warmly against his face. He called for her to tell him when she wanted him to hoist her up. On her call, he lifted his hands, still joined together, to chest and then head high. Once she was that high, and had let her hold go from him, she turned and then pulled herself to the top of the wall. He passed up a rope and they both took one end. She eased herself over the ledge and he felt her weight tighten on it.

He moved the rope still taut, closer to the wall. Then he jumped to the wall, just as he had been trained, and climbed vertically up it using the rope as a lever. He knew that Maria was moving away from the wall on the other side to ensure that it was still taut. Then, as he saw he was a metre or so up the wall in just three strides, he pulled himself forward and grabbed the top. From there, it was no effort to pull himself up and over. He joined Maria who was already tying up the rope.

Out of sight, they unpacked their bags. He took the make-up from the body belt and they darkened their skins. They each grabbed a holster, knife and handgun and fastened them securely. Then the Uzis were attached to their straps and placed over their shoulders. They fell to the right height for them to shoot them one handed, if needed, keeping them taut by their straps against their bodies. Charles assembled the scanner and, having placed the spare ammunition in his body belt, they advanced.

They went quietly and slowly, checking out for hidden surveillance equipment and trip wires or other traps. They identified some and avoided them. The night was cool but not chilly. There was a quiet and gentle breeze but it was refreshing rather than unpleasant. The clouds could not hold out the moon but they reduced its brightness and that of the stars. It was dark enough for their purpose, although they would have preferred a thicker screen of cloud.

It was only a mile from the road to the house but they took around an hour to go across the wooded wilderness that led them to the more manicured gardens of the main building. There they would have to use cover from the clumps of bushes and conifers that spread around the perimeter of the cultivated area and marked out the different paths that criss-crossed the lawn.

They approached carefully. Maria tugged his arm and indicated a box on the front of the house. He looked and picked out another one. Then another. They circled the house. These would be alarms or sensors that would bathe the lawn and its surrounds with light from the powerful lamps that topped the house itself. Maria signalled that they should stop.

Charles hid behind the cover of a bush and pushed the sensor in front of it. That allowed it a free range to the house and improved its response time to objects. He set up the machine and focussed on the screen. He started down in the cellars, searching methodically over the whole area for people. There was a wine cellar. There was an armoury full of a variety of weapons, he also identified a storeroom. From the size of the packages, he would have said that there could be over a hundred million dollars of heroin. But there were no signs of life.

He scanned the next two floors and identified several people. They all seemed to be asleep or at least in bed. Then he saw a red light flash on the monitor. That indicated a target had been identified. He checked out as they zoomed into a sleeping form and established that Turpin was in the building. Turpin was an interesting man as he was only Russian by ancestry. His parents had emigrated from St Petersburg to Pittsburgh. Perhaps they felt that the similar names would make them less homesick. Turpin had run a few gangs in his hometown before striking the big time with the emergence of the Russian Mafia. He had worked as one of Rastinov’s deputies and, after the sacking of this same Uzes compound by Di Maglio and his men, had assumed control of the whole Mafia itself.

He was not a crude and brutal man like Rastinov. He was a schemer. And he would be ruthless. The fact that he had managed to maintain his position of supremacy in the Mafia showed that. He was also, or so they believed, a man who would see the benefits of cutting a deal. It was better to negotiate a take-over of Di Maglio’s world. That avoided a battle and endless bloodshed. Then it was better for him to be friendly with Charles, who owned banks and could be used to launder large sums. Turpin was not to know that their plans did not see them owning the banks for long. But there was no need for him to know that for the moment. In any event, even without the banks, the deal would be valuable for him.

Charles carried on examining the building. He now moved to the outhouses. In the old days, when he had hit the building to snatch Jacqui from Rastinov and before they subsequently attacked it and sought to raze it to the ground, these were unconnected other than by underground passages. These days they were all adjoining. It was in a small such outhouse that further trouble was detected. Charles’ heart sank. He watched carefully as it analysed what seemed to be a sleeping figure. Then the answer came. The figure was that of the dreaded Rastinov.

He turned to Maria and mentioned what he had found to her. She bit her lip in concentration as he sent the sensors over the building itself. It consisted of three rooms. The one where Rastinov was located was some sort of cell. Next door was a room that contained a kitchen and an office. The third was a small bedroom where there was someone in bed. He zoomed onto the figure again and noticed that the person was a woman.

He switched the sensor over to find guns. The sensor checked out the three rooms and found nothing. It identified several knives in the kitchen area but they were all standard household ones. Then it stopped by a unit on the wall of the second room. It identified scalpels and other surgical equipment. Charles checked out a table. It seemed high. He identified an operating table. The place seemed to contain a mini hospital. It seemed unguarded. And most ominously, it appeared to contain their old enemy, Rastinov.

He turned to Maria, “What the hell is he doing there? It’s some sort of private area with a medical bay.”

“Perhaps he’s ill. They may be treating him there.”

“I need to see. If Jacqui thinks he’s alive, she’ll be petrified. He caused us enough pain last time we met. I thought we’d killed him.”

“Let‘s do it now?” said Maria. So they moved forward and slowly made their way to the outhouse. Inch by inch they crossed the intervening fifty yards or so.

They were careful not to activate the sensors around the building. External sensors have to be less sensitive than internal ones or they’ll be set off by wild animals and birds. They slid up against the wall and approached the door. Maria gently turned the doorknob. It made no noise but it turned and she pushed the door gently. It opened. Still there was no sound.

Charles looked through the widening gap into a small hallway he had identified on the scanner. There were no cameras and apparently no alarms. Cautiously, they eased their way in. Maria shut the door carefully. In front of them were two doors. From the scanner, they knew that one led to the medical room and one to the woman’s bedroom. They wondered now if she were a nurse.

Again, Maria opened the door slowly. Charles motioned her to go to the left-hand door. This was the one that led to the medical room. They needed to check out the cell before they did anything. The door opened silently again and they eased in. Maria indicated the sensors. They could not tell their range.

Charles recalled a small cupboard in the hall and nodded at Maria to stay. He slipped back the way they had come and opened the cupboard. The control panel was there. A key operated the alarm and it was in the lock. He hoped he would not activate the whole thing by switching it off. He turned the key. The light indicated the alarm was deactivated.

He returned. Maria whispered, “We have two minutes maximum. The alarm could be linked to a control back at the main house. They would wonder who had switched it off at five in the morning. Go quickly.”

They moved to the cell. The light fell on the face of the sleeping man. It was Rastinov. It was the face Charles recalled on his one and only meeting. This was a face he would never forget. He looked at the drip above the bed. He stared at the machines.

“Dialysis of some sort” whispered Maria. “The brute must be ill. This is really some sort of sick bay. But he actually is alive.”

“That means he rules. We kill him.”

Before he could move, Maria had drawn her knife and slit his throat. She did it without hesitation. Remorse wasn’t needed.

Charles’ one slight fear always, when he saw Maria at work, was that she never knew remorse. It didn’t matter who the victim was. If she were ordered to kill, she obeyed blindly.

Charles loved Maria in a strange way. It was not like the love he felt for Jacqui. It was born out of the excitement from the chase and the kill. It was almost like a throwback to a previous life. One that he felt, one day, he would need to discard for good. Those thoughts flashed through his mind as he prepared the plastic explosive and attached it to the cell and then to the room beyond.

“It’s going to be hard for anyone recognise him after this,” said Maria who was attaching explosive to the body itself. They set the whole thing for one minute. And they moved back to the hall. They listened carefully by the nurse’s room, but all was quiet. They crept to the door. This time they were not worried about sensors. If you are close to a major explosion, that’s the least of your worries. Especially if you only have thirty seconds or so to go before the whole show starts.

They ran from the building. The lights were activated. Then a siren sounded. Lights went on in the house. But, by that time, they were well into the grounds. Both of them were running steadily, hands on the machine guns that hung from their shoulders. They had covered several hundred yards, perhaps less, when the explosion tore through the air.

There was an enormous blast. Then there was a rush of air. It was followed by the sound of frightened birds, leaving their nests for the safety of the skies and calling anxiously to each other. Then they heard the voices. Orders were shouted. But there was panic in the voices. That would give them a bit more time.

They ran on. They knew they had a mile of rough terrain to cover. But they would head in the same direction. For the wall on the inside was only a couple of metres off the ground. Outside the drop was more. That meant they could scale it without ropes. Maria would need Charles to climb it first and then give her a helping hand.

They then heard the dogs. They would be able to run faster than they ever could. They had run over a minute by then, perhaps two. They had estimated they needed six or seven. They ploughed on. The barking became louder. Maria ran faster than Charles and called for him to go on. “When the dogs get closer, I’ll shoot them. Go ahead and then give me cover if more appear.”

He ran on. He felt lonely without Maria next to him. The trees looked larger. The whole of the grounds took on a more ominous feeling. There was something about fleeing on your own that is so much more menacing than doing so together. He heard the crack of the sub machine gun. He stopped and turned. Maria was some hundred yards back and he could see a dog jumping towards her. The crack of the gun seemed to come after the moment when it was stopped in its track and fell back in the air.

Maria ran on towards him. She was alone. Then he heard more barking and a large black dog came bounding towards her. It looked ominous in the pale light morning. Its jaws were open and seemingly waiting to get hold of her flesh.

Charles straightened his gun. Maria was running towards him and the dog was coming in from the left to grab her. That allowed him to have a clean line of fire. The dog closed on Maria. She approached Charles. He waited. The closer they were, the more likely he was to kill the beast. Maria was now twenty yards from him. She must have known what he was doing. Her face though was a deathly white. Her breath was coming in gasps. He opened fire and the bullets sliced into the dog. They slowed him, and then he stumbled to his knees and fell.

All was quiet other than Maria’s breathing. Charles turned and led the way again. This time they were running faster. She gasped at him, “I killed two dogs. I didn’t see the third till it was too late.” He signalled her to carry on running. They must have covered half the distance. They ran on. There was no sign of others pursuing them but they pushed on as fast as they could.

He looked over to Maria. She was running, her mouth open as she gulped in air. Her chest heaved up and down with the exertion as she ran and stumbled over the uneven ground. Charles could feel sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to keep up with her. He was pushing himself to run faster than before. He kept the image of the fangs of the dog he had killed in his mind. It served as a reminder of what could happen if he fell or flagged.

In the distance they saw the wall. Just a couple of hundred yards of scrubland separated them. They ran on. They could hear shouts again but they seemed quite a way off. Maria made the wall seconds before him. He carried on running and jumped, pulling himself up to get to the top. His arms felt weak but somehow he managed. He sat astride, leant over and held out an arm. As Maria grabbed it and seemingly ran up the wall, the voices approached. Some men ran out of the trees.

He loosed his gun and fired a round towards the pursuers. They threw themselves onto the ground. He saw Maria had one leg over the wall and then the other. He fired off another round and dropped over the wall himself. As he disappeared out of view, the wall reverberated with the sound of bullets tearing into it and then over it. Maria grabbed his arm. “Move,” she called as they headed down the road, skirting the perimeter.

They continued until they heard the car. Both threw themselves into the long grass and shallow ditch they had noticed before by the side of the road. Charles rolled on his back, as did Maria, in anticipation of a battle. The Uzis were in their hands and ready to blast anyone who approached. But the car disappeared into the distance. Maria lifted her head carefully in case there was another. But there was no trap. They got up again and jogged along the road. All was peaceful as they came to the curve where they had parked their car.

They approached it carefully. It was there just as they had left it.

Maria suddenly muttered, “Shit,” and pulled Charles away and down on the ground. They had walked into open view of a jeep. It was parked just over the brow of the hill with three men scouring the countryside. They were parked at an angle. He realised they would not be able to see the car. They couldn’t have seen them either yet or they would have fired. But they were not well covered and if the jeep kept on the scrubland and off the road on the way back, they would be totally visible.

They waited and held their breath. There was no noise, no movement. Then they heard a low murmur. The jeep engine started and seemed to approach them. Then it turned away, and they could hear it moving along the tarmac in the distance. They waited a few minutes. Nobody seemed to be around.

They eased their way to the car and checked again. All seemed to be clear. Charles jumped into the driving seat and Maria got in beside him. He threw the car into gear and drove off. He jammed his foot down and drove at top speed down the quiet road and back through Uzes into the area around the Pont du Gard.

“Hotel,” said Maria. “Let’s get in through the window. Park in the street. If all’s clear, we duck into the grounds.”

All was clear. Charles slammed the car shut and they ran to the window of their room. Maria pulled it open and they got back inside. The bed was still unmade, and all seemed as they’d left it. Maria checked the door.

“We can’t head off now. Someone could check out unusual movements. Tomorrow looks like being a nice day. We should move out with the weekenders who’ll come here for lunch. That means we kill time till three or four in the afternoon.”

“The best thing is to check out late morning,” said Maria. “Then we can grab lunch. But it better be at one of the tourist restaurants. Not one of your normal Michelin starred joints. That would be too noticeable. We blend with the crowd and then head off. We’re not going to make the plane from Nimes. We’d do better driving to Valence and jumping on the TGV.”

Charles thought through her plan. The TGV would get them into Paris around seven or eight in the evening. And they should be able to make either a late flight to London or a train from the Gard du Nord through the Channel tunnel. They would be back in London, where the time was an hour behind Paris, by midnight.

He looked at his watch. It was just before six. “That means we have three or four hours to kill.”

“And so we can have a decent breakfast. I’m hungry. We’ve had nothing to eat since lunchtime yesterday other than the odd bar of chocolate.”

“Maria, breakfast won’t be on offer for an hour or more.”

“We better clean up then.”

“But we’ll wake the neighbours. And it’s Sunday. You heard the plumbing earlier.”

“What do you suggest then?” she asked in an amused voice.

He looked around the room. “There isn’t that much we can do here. But there is one thing and it just happens that I couldn’t think of anything better even if there were enormous choice.”

And with that he stepped forward and took her in his arms. He felt again the warmth of her body. He sensed once more her softness. He breathed in again the bitter sweat smell of her perfume. He shivered as their bodies clung to each other in memory of the excitement and the chaos of the previous hour or so.

The crash of splintering wood shook him out of that reverie. He dived to his right to the gun on the bed where he had thrown it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Maria grabbing for hers. The door flew into the room, or at least pieces of it did. At the same time, the shattering of glass was accompanied by a shower of splinters and jagged pieces of window.

Charles had the gun in his hand and blasted it towards the window, raking the area from left to right. One hand held the gun and the other ripped open his body belt. He got ready to reload the gun the moment it stopped firing.

Maria had let off a round at the door in a similar way. Somehow, by instinct they had realised what the other would do. It was logical as an afterthought. Charles was closer to the window. She was nearer the door. A man half stumbled through the hole that used to be a door. Maria held her handgun in one hand, the Uzi, now strapped over her shoulder, in the other. The handgun blasted the already injured intruder, punching holes into his chest as he took one step and then another before he crashed, lifeless, to the floor.

Once Charles gun stopped firing, he ejected the spent clip and slammed in a new one. He waited but there was silence. It was strange. There were no cries, no movement. There was nothing. It was as if the hotel were dead to the world. It seemed as if nothing had happened. Where were the other guests? Where were the attackers? Where were the night staff? They couldn’t have slept through that din. They just seemed to be stunned into a ghastly ghostly silence.

Charles felt blood drip from his head onto his hand. He suspected it was a cut from the flying glass but ignored it. He concentrated on the window. His finger curled round the Uzi ready to push it into its deadly action once again. The curtains were still half drawn. Otherwise they would have been showered with more glass. But he knew that they might have protected him initially. Now they were a danger. He had no idea who could be hiding there, all he knew was that they had won the first round and the second would allow their attackers to act first unless they moved quickly.

Maria must have sensed the same thing. The dead man on the floor must have destroyed the door. As she fired at it he must have been hit. When he fell through the door, wounded, perhaps even fatally, she finished him off. There would be more behind him. That much was certain.

Charles exchanged looks with Maria and moved to the curtains. He grabbed one from the side and pulled it open. Maria loosed off more shots at the clear space but nobody was there. Charles pulled out another clip and threw it to her. She reloaded and covered the open doorway with her gun.

Now there was noise. There was frightened shouting and screams. There was movement but it was far away. But there was no attack. They waited and still there was no movement.

“We’re going to have some explaining to do if we stay here,” Charles muttered to Maria. “It must have been the Russians. They want us in the open. They know we can’t wait here. It’ll blow our cover. We have no choice. I’ll cover. Clean the room. “

Maria quickly wiped the room clean and grabbed the guns, knives and papers they would need. They slipped the papers in their shirts and prepared for the battle. They both still had blackened faces, although that would not help them in the coming dawn light. Maria still held her sub machine gun across her body and in the other hand had a revolver. Charles was holding a sub machine gun by his side with a spare ammunition clip in his other hand.

He took the last piece of plastic explosive and set it up in the room. It would cause a fair deal of damage without too much outside. He waited for Maria to signal she was ready and mouthed “fifteen seconds” to her. That would allow them to escape and find maximum cover from the blast. It would also mean nobody was likely to get to the room before the blast. They had enough problems on their hands without another murder charge.

They had two options. They could leave by the door or the window. The window was too dangerous. They could get no cover. So they selected the door. Maria went first and then Charles. They moved down the corridor at a trot and turned the corner towards the lobby. The blast from the room seemed to rock the hotel. They heard the crash of falling glass and more screams of terror from the frightened occupants. Still they saw none of their attackers.

They moved through the deserted lobby and into the entrance. Charles flung himself on the ground seconds after Maria as a volley of bullets brushed over their heads. Maria fired in their general direction but they knew that such random fire was unlikely to find its target.

They moved outside and took cover from the cars parked in front of the hotel. “We need a getaway car,” called Maria. “Cover me as I try to get one.”

She looked around and saw a sleek sports car. It would have power and that was what they needed. She drew her knife and manoeuvred it into the lock. The door swung open. She had opened the passenger side. Charles realised she would jump start the engine and then allow him to get in next to her as she drove away. He also realised that the light bodywork would offer little resistance to bullets and so they needed to ensure that no shots hit their mark.

He saw movement in the bushes and stood up with the gun roaring. The stream of fire that spat out of the muzzle pointed to his target, who came crashing down into the bush to his left. There was further movement and again he fired, drowning out the sound of the car engine.

He could see Maria crouched down and ready to go. He slammed another clip into the machine gun. He realised they were almost out of ammunition. Holding onto the open door, now half sitting in the car, he fired into the area where the movement had occurred. Maria pushed the car into gear and they screeched over the car park’s rough surface.

At the main gate of the hotel, Charles pulled himself fully into the car. Wrestling with the force of the wind against the open door, he slammed it shut. Opening the window, he looked around the grounds. By the bush he had first fired at, a man emerged. He fired two or three shots at him but had little chance of hitting him from the moving car.

Maria swung into the road and accelerated away. “Make for the motorway as quickly as possible. We need to put distance between us and them.”

“We’re being followed,” she called. “It’s a blue BMW with two or three occupants.”

“Open the roof. It’s automatic. Then let them get closer and I’ll try to take them out.”

Maria pushed a button and the roof started to open. The slow opening seemed to go on forever. The BMW closed in on them as they inevitably slowed down against the heightened wind resistance on the canvas top. Then they seemed to surge ahead again.

Charles turned round and jammed himself against the dashboard to monitor the following car. They were increasing their distance from them with every minute. Maria was also an excellent driver, taking the bends smoothly.

“Ahead, look ahead,” she shouted. He turned and saw that a large truck blocked the road. And he saw the guns that were pointed towards them.

“Left,” he yelled. “Go down the slope.”

She obeyed immediately and swung off the road and down the hillside. They bounced dangerously on the rocky surface, glancing a rock side on and then bouncing back. The car hit the road again and Maria struggled with the steering wheel.

She realised she wasn’t going to make it and pointed the car down the next slope beyond the next bend in the road. This one was less steep but more bumpy. It was rocky and she forced the steering wheel right and then left again and again. Somehow, she steered them back onto the road.

Once again, her foot went to the accelerator and they gathered speed. “Keep an eye up above. They may still be able to target us,” she shouted.

“The BMW is following. It’s about three bends behind. Keep up this speed. Keep an eye on the warning light. You could have done some damage as we drove down the slopes.”

They headed for the motorway. “We need to lose the BMW. Soon we’ll have to dump this car. It’s too dangerous to take it far. The police will be searching for it.”

“Stop here.” Moments later she had pulled in on a bend. They both got out. He crossed the road and hid behind a bush. She did the same.

“Fire at the wheels,” she called. “I’ll try the occupants.”

They waited for a few moments and heard the roar of the BMW as it ploughed round the corner towards them. They opened fire together and the blast took the car and its occupants by surprise. The tyres ripped to shreds and they heard the ear-shattering scream of metal on tarmac. The windscreen seemed to implode and the men in the car screamed before the bullets ended their terror. The car veered off the road into the scrubland and, suddenly, all was ominously quiet.

They made their way carefully towards the car. It was wrecked. Three men were dead. There was no need to linger and they headed back to the sports car and drove on. There was going to be no further pursuit..

Charles took some wipes and cleaned the black camouflage from his face and hands. He took off his shirt, and turning it inside out, completed the task. He looked into the mirror. His face was cut just above the eye. He felt the cut. There seemed to be no signs of a splinter. The bleeding had stopped but there was still blood on his shirt.

He looked over at Maria. Her face was tense. Her lips were pursed as she pushed the car to the limit. Her face and hands were still black from the camouflage but otherwise she seemed unmarked. She would be able to provide cover for the two things they would need a change of clothes and transport.

She pulled in just off the motorway and they changed seats. She was cleaning up just as he had done as he drove them along the still empty motorway that Sunday morning.

She wiped her face carefully and then took off her shirt to remove the last vestiges of the black. She delved into her pocket and surprised him by bringing out a lipstick and carefully applying it. Then she produced some eye shadow and carefully, but lightly, made up her eyes. Turning the shirt back to its right side, she brushed it clean and pulled it back on.

She looked at the signposts. “Let’s get to Valence and then dump the car. We can get the train from there. I prefer that to hiring a car as long as one comes through soon after we get there.”

“Shouldn’t we go to ground somewhere? Dumping the car in Valence and getting on the train is dangerous. It’s a long journey to Paris. So let’s get a train for Paris but get out along the line. It’ll be safer. We can go to ground overnight. Then we get new clothes on Monday. We can hire a car and be back in London by evening. We need to warn Jacqui. We may have been recognised. We were definitely followed to the hotel.”

She agreed and they sped on, without hindrance, until they entered Valence. They left the car in a side street and walked to the station. It was just after eight. The church bells peeled and disturbed the peaceful calm of the provincial dawn. Picking up their earlier cover of two lovers on a romantic weekend, they made their way to the station and sought out the best options for their return home.