***
15
~Paris ~
They were sitting in her lounge, the fire flickering brightly in the small hearth. The shoulder had been fixed; a large white bandage coiled itself tightly around the muscle. In a small tray upon the coffee table rested the tiny bullet which had caused so much harm.
‘Explain this.’ Adrianna’s tone held wisp’s of the arctic as she indicated the bullet.
‘Before I explain anything,’ he took a deep breath, to shrug off the tremble. ‘I need to do what I’d planned all along.’
She arched one eyebrow expectantly.
‘I want to apologise for what happened fifteen years ago and ask that you forgive me.’ There he’d said it. Now he waited for the storm to explode. It was a shock when instead Adrianna’s reaction portrayed not anger, but compassion.
‘Yes, of course I forgive you. I realised after a long time, Russell’s death affected you the same, if not more so than it did me. I was his true blood relative but we only found each other thanks to you in the first place. You were more to him though, you were there for him growing up and vice versa, making him more of a brother to you than he could ever be to me. Believe it or not, after the first few years I attempted to contact you, an attempt to make amends and perhaps pick up where we left off. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of earth. In the end I gave up, packed my things and moved to Paris. Away from all those painful memories.’
Stan was silent a long time, his gaze drawn into the flames as they danced quickly to their own beat, throwing shadows high on the wall.
All this time he’d beaten himself up over nothing, fifteen years of his life practically down the drain, lost in drink and depression. All for nothing. Nothing. Brushing his ominous thoughts from his mind he thought about what mattered. He was in Adrianna’s good books again and he’d a huge puzzle to solve, the pieces floating just beyond his reach, taunting him with their solution in a maddening manner.
‘Do you know what happened to the boy after their death?’
‘I haven’t heard anything concrete. I read a newspaper article which reported a two year old orphan’s death due to pneumonia but it didn’t mention a name.’
Stan bowed his head sadly.
‘What a tragedy. Again, I’m sorry I ever involved Russell in an attempt to lure Smith in.’
‘It’s fine. Let’s leave the past untouched, where it belongs. Done and dusted.’
At that he was rewarded with a small smile quivering into existence, though it was gone before he knew it.
‘OK. But there’s one thing I still have to do,’ she hadn’t even finished the sentence when she leant forward and slapped him hard across the face.
‘Don’t ever take me hostage again Stanley. Have I made myself clear?’
Indignant outrage did not become Stanley whose face looked like a cow’s after sheep had eaten the finest blades of grass.
‘Good, now we sorted that out. What’s this other business which caused you to turn up at my front door with a bullet in your shoulder?’
Shaking his head and rubbing his cheek, Stan began to explain to Adrianna all that had happened. Her reaction grew more and more disbelieving as the story progressed up until the point where Stan arrived at her apartment.
‘He faked his death? That… I can’t believe it. And of course because a terrorist group from Fiji claimed responsibility no one suspected anything?’
‘That’s the way it looked from our perspective.’
‘What did you say the name of this company was?’
‘Globex.’ Adrianna was already booting up the PC, preceding to Google the company. The search returned few similar hits, but one caught their attention.
Opening the corresponding website they were introduced to Globex, a large and prospering financial investment institute with over 120 high rise apartments across the globe. Its founding owner was Signor Victor Ramon, who’d recently received a large island in the south pacific that was intended to be a research institute and nature conservation park. Building materials and transport vehicles were purchased from Iraq, the laboratory equipment was provided from Italy and the staff was from all over the globe.
‘His entire operation is centred on Globex. Whatever he is planning has to do with these apartment buildings and the island, I just don’t see how they’re connected,’ Adrianna spoke.
‘Mmmm, he purchased “equipment” from Iraq. My guess is that equipment would’ve been weapons and bombs. That’s how he’s managed to legitimise all of this, keep his hands clean so that we can’t peg him for anything. Ben gave me all the information I could ask for, thorough as always, yet it leaves me nowhere.’
‘Somehow I think the island is the key to all of this, Stan.’
‘Sure.’ He wasn’t listening anymore. The high rise buildings, where were they situated?
‘Find out where the high rise buildings are. Their exact locations please.’
Quickly she clicked on the links from the website that lead her to information on the apartment buildings. A long list appeared of all the cities in which you could find one of Globex’s buildings.
‘Stan, there’s one in every major city in the world, and in seventeen countries there are five of them spread across other major cities.
‘He must be using them as giant storage depots for all the bombing equipment and weapons. I need to contact Ben.’
‘The island’s location is really isolated Stan, in fact,’ all that could be heard was the pounding of a keyboard as Adrianna searched for information.
‘There’s only one shipping lane that passes, even that is at least a day’s trip away. Why the secrecy for a research facility and nature conservation park?’
There was something nagging at the back of his mind, something he knew that was important. The island… what was it that Smith had said?
‘It’s not even a cargo shipping la-’
‘Wait, don’t talk for a minute, I’m trying to remember something Smith said during the conference,’ Stan interrupted her rudely. He had it.
‘It’s all being orchestrated from that island. Everything. I remember Smith saying that he needed a certain number of people from the conference to be on the island with him. Where did you say that the island was located Adrianna?’
She returned a frosty stare, and heaved an indignant sigh.
‘As I was saying,’ she reminded him pointedly, ‘the only ship that goes within the slightest proximity of this island is an adventure cruise ship, built to appear like an old fashioned sailing vessel, yet with all the comforts of modern holidaying.’
‘Perfect. Book me a ticket on the next voyage.’ Carelessly he tossed the gold card onto the desk at which Adrianna sat. She looked up at him startled.
‘You plan on going alone to the island? Without any form of back up?’
‘I don’t have any choice, and besides, Ben’s got my back from HQ.’
‘How is Ben going to protect you if you get caught?’
‘I just can’t let myself get caught can I?’ He smiled suddenly. ‘I’ll be fine, trust me. Just book me the ticket, please.’
‘OK I’ll book it,’ she said hesitantly.
A few seconds later she turned around with a mischievous grin, ‘all done; a cabin for two on the Singing Pearl on its next departing voyage.’
‘You’re not coming with me, are you insane? It’s far too dangerous, besides…’ He hesitated.
‘Go on,’ she dared him.
‘You’d just hold me back; I can’t be looking out for you and myself.’
‘For one you can’t even look after yourself,’ she pointed at his shoulder, with half a smug smile. ‘And secondly, how do you think it’s going to look if you go on a cruise like that by yourself? Without a partner?’
‘But I … What about the hospital, your job, doesn’t yo…?’ She interrupted him forcefully.
‘I resigned. It was too
much work too little pay. Oh and now that two tickets have been booked, it would look stupid if you arrived by yourself wouldn’t it?’ Now she let her grin widen triumphantly. She’d won, she knew it and so did he.
With a resigned sigh, Stan had no choice but to agree to her idiotic ploy.
‘But I’m in charge OK?’ even to his ears it sounded petulant.
‘Of course you are,’ she replied with patronising sweetness, a coy smile curving her lips.
In an attempt to reassert his position, Stan began to list what he wanted done.
‘Right, no point in going to Iraq, too complicated and our life expectancy would drastically plummet. Same goes for Italy; it’s the island which we need to focus on. Where does the ship depart from? We need tickets to get their immediately.’ Good he felt like the boss again.
‘From Brisbane harbour. And our flight leaves from Barajas international airport in Madrid. To get there we go via train which departs at six a.m. All’s booked and ready to go.’ She grinned at him.
Glancing at the clock on her wall he saw that it was two a.m. He lifted his gun and fired it into the computer, until all that was left was a smoking heap of molten plastic and loose wires. Adrianna gave him a strange look and was about to speak. He interrupted her straight away.
‘Good, then you should pack your things, because I want to be there early.’
She was already in her bedroom before he’d finished uttering the last part of the sentence.
A car door slammed. It was a quiet sound, yet to Stan’s ears it couldn’t have been louder. Years of living a life on edge had carved paranoia into him, so that he couldn’t live without constantly looking over his shoulder. He made his way over to the window, approaching it from the side and peered through the curtains down onto the street below. What he saw froze his heartbeat mid thump and left him stunned. How? The car door that he’d heard shut had just let three men, dressed completely in black, out. They wore ski masks and carried silenced MP5 Navy guns. There was a chance they were going somewhere else thought Stan hopefully. No. Not in hell. The driver was just going up to the door.
Stan watched as an arm beckoned from under the front porch to four figures standing like silent wraiths in the cold night. Their breath not leaving a trace of fog in the air. He checked his silenced weapon. Shit. He wouldn’t be able to pick them off from here. Plus that would only alert them to the fact that he knew they were here. The best way was to escape was out the back. The rest could come later.
Adrianna was busy packing her things into a large duffel bag when Stanley burst into the room. His whole posture was tensed like a coiled spring and his steps belayed an urgency that was not reflected in his features. They remained as impassive as a rock face, worn smooth by the constant flow of river water. This was a complete change from the Stan who’d been in her lounge a minute earlier. It scared her to see him like that; the thought of not going was beginning to form when it was quickly erased by the words he spoke. His tone was measured and even.
‘There’re five men outside your apartment, they are here to kill me. Probably you too now. They will do so unless we get out of here now. Drop everything and show me the back way out.’
‘I… wha…’ how had this happened? Confusion straddled her mind, about to kick it into panic.
Stanley wasted no more time. He grabbed her by the arm.
‘You wanted in? Well you’re as in as you’ll ever be. Make the most of it; I hope it lives up to expectations. Show me the back way. Quick.’
Hastily the two piled into the corridor and sprinted for the fire escape. Flying out the door Stan scanned the area behind the complex. An empty parking lot separated them from Parc Andre Citroen and the river Seine.
‘The quickest way to the train station is if we cross the river. There should be a bridge not too far away.’
He isn’t listening to a word I’m saying, she thought irritably. Her frustration was almost enough to block out the rising fear. Almost.
Stan was manhandling her down the stairs without a hint of concern for her wellbeing, still she held her tongue, realising that this was what he’d meant with “I’m in charge.”
Their feet had barely touched the ground when they were sprinting towards the promising protection of the Park. About half way Stan heard a quiet yell. Soon enough the phut phut phut of silenced automatic gunfire could be heard. The bullets were nowhere near them, the darkness masking the shooters aim. There was a lull in the gunfire.
There was only one lonely car in the parking lot, and a maintenance shed not too far away from there. They’d sprinted to the car and hunkered down behind it.
‘Anna, hurry, I’ll catch up in a minute, let me take care of this one guy, you don’t want to watch. Wave your arms around your torso when you run to the park OK? And make sure you zigzag.’
She nodded, her face ghostly white, dark hair contrasting starkly, her breathing laboured.
Stan pushed her ahead of him. He watched her sprinting off towards the park, arms wind milling around her torso, making it look like more than one person running. A quick glance at the oncoming soldier who’d spotted them showed him taking the bait. He was focused on trying to take aim on Adrianna’s erratic zigzagging. Using his enemy’s momentary distraction, Stanley raced the short distance to the maintenance shed. He witnessed Adrianna slipping into the trees. The soldier had given up trying to shoot her and instead gave chase. Stanley held his breath. Any second now... Pffft. The bullet hit the running soldier in the temple. He half fell half rolled onto the tarmac, lifeless eyes staring up at Stan.
Not wasting a second Stan scooped the silenced weapon up and snatched the radio mic off the dead man and made to follow Adrianna into the park. He was just at the car, wondering what could be taking the other soldiers so long, to make their way out after their comrade when his question was answered by a scattering of bullets that kicked up sparks on the cars bumper. Shit. They’d switched to night vision goggles.
A fleeting look at the apartment building showed three advancing figures in the parking lot and a fourth up on the staircase covering them. Unfortunately for the one standing on the emergency stairwell, a bright light on the outside of the door went on, as someone from inside opened it. A tall black figure silhouetted perfectly. A quick double tap and Stan had one less man to worry about as the man crumpled at the feet of Adrianna’s neighbour.
A loud scream, filled with terror, shattered the peaceful night in Paris. The three men in the lot turned as one to see what was amiss. That was all Stan needed, he dashed the final bit, disappearing into the trees.
‘Over here,’ her voice strained; a silent whisper. Adrianna signalled to Stan from the cover of a rhododendron bush.
The loud insistent whining of sirens could be heard in the distance, and the two of them caught fleeting flashes of the bright red and blue lights racing towards Adrianna’s apartment. The neighbour had somehow managed to call the police. Damn.
‘What now? We need to get to the train station Stan.’ She sounded terrified.
‘Really? I would never have guessed.’ Unintentionally his tone held the sharp bite of sarcasm, he winced inwardly.
‘Sarcasm. Really? Is that all you have to offer right now?’
‘What you’re going to do is make your way to the river. I want you to wait for me there. I’ll follow in a minute. We’re going to have to go along the riverside. The moment the police see the bodies they’ll create a road block. If we’re unlucky they might send a chopper with a search light in.’
‘And you?’
‘I’m going to make sure none of our friends who crashed the dinner party are going to cause us any more trouble.’ His teeth gleamed white in the dark and his eyes had a deadly glint.
‘OK,’ she replied in a small voice. ‘See you in a bit?’
A curt nod was all she received; Stan was already clambering up a tree and positioning himself with his weapon to take out the remaining three soldiers. Leaving her n
o option, Adrianna made her way over to the river’s edge glancing over her shoulder every few seconds to see if anything had happened. Yet all too soon Stanley and anything that was happening was swallowed up in the darkness.
Stan was ready. Glancing down the sight of his gun he was systematically searching the parking lot for any indication that they’d followed. Finally he caught sight of them. He could just see them, weapons gone, night camo gone, walking in civilian clothes towards the hospital which was well lit. With quiet stealth they disappeared into the hospital grounds. His gaze darted back towards the apartment complex.
‘Oh no,’ he breathed. The uniforms were already there admiring the dead soldier in black. As he watched he saw one of the cops bend down and retrieve something. It must have been the night vision goggles, for after a short moment he or she began gesturing wildly in the direction of the park. Another cop came out. A quick moment later he was talking into a radio. Stan didn’t have to be nearby to know what he was saying. Athletically he swung himself down onto the ground and set off at quick run to meet Adrianna.
He burst out of the park onto a street searching left and right. No trace of Adrianna. Cursing furiously he headed towards the rail tracks, calling her name softly. His voice masked by the thundering of an oncoming train. What is she doing? It was only a matter of minutes before police would’ve encircled the Park and blocked any access ways out of it. He was on the verge of giving up and going without her, after all she’d be fine. She could just tell the police that she’d been kidnapped at gun point and then someone had come and saved her leaving her in the park, alone and stranded. It fitted perfectly, that way he wouldn’t have to lug her around with him and be left in situations like this one later on.
A tap on his shoulder. He spun on his heels gun up, at the ready.
It was her. Idiot, he thought angrily.
‘Don’t try that again Anna, that’s how you get shot.’ His face was stony, not a trace of humour.
Before another word could be uttered police lights flashed brightly at either end of the street they were on. Headlights from two different directions sandwiched them. Stanley looked at the one car then down at the gun slung across his shoulder. They weren’t stupid, a gun in the hand of a man plus dead people at the apartment, was obvious and really awkward for him. Grabbing Anna, he forced her over the road barrier and down onto the rail tracks. It was steeper than anticipated and the pair ended up slipping and sliding on loose stones and rocks, their trousers getting ripped, their arms grazed. Landing with a smooth forward roll, Stan stood up shakily on the rail tracks, his head dizzy from the rapid descent. Adrianna hadn’t been quite as lucky, and had to pick herself up from the tangle of arms and legs she resembled. It took a while for Stan’s head to focus, when it did though, the first thing he did was shoot a look back up the incline. The police cruiser’s had come to a stop, their lights sending shadows leaping in recurring patterns around the landscape, giving bushes and trees intimidating forms. It wasn’t until Adrianna’s consistent tugging on his sleeve and yelling got to the point where it was unbearable did he notice the large train thundering along the rails, causing them to vibrate. A loud horn, blaring from the train drained the sirens out in warning that it would not stop.
Stan couldn’t have been happier. Without pausing further to contemplate his good fortune he leapt across to safety, Adrianna following him like a shadow. The timing had been flawless, the train thundered by in a flurry of wind, noise and powerful speed, obscuring the two fugitives from the police’s view.
The police had by now made it down past the railway onto the road, and were busy searching the tracks for any sign that the pair had been run over. All they’d found so far was the silenced rifle but soon, after more policemen arrived and the area was properly searched, they turned their flash lights onto the murky expanse of the river Seine. Cursing the trains timing furiously the chief constable raised his radio to his lips and rattled off a rapid string of French.
The ghost of a smile cut across his face as the constable saw the search helicopter approaching the river, its search light representing the banner of justice. They couldn’t hide now, it would all be over.
Suddenly the light ray whipped up and silhouetted two figures further downstream, hunched over shielding their eyes from the bright light. A troop of armed policemen ran over in an organised formation, guns up and yelling loudly. Within seconds the two were surrounded and forced to the ground. Handcuffs flashed and then the unfortunate pair were frog marched into the backseat of a police vehicle.
Standing up at the point from which the two fugitives had first scrambled down the slope to the railway, the chief constable smiled, and with a cocky flick of his hands signalled to his men that they could pack up and head home, the thought of promotion looming large in his mind, any thoughts of the upcoming strike he’d been planning forgotten.
***
16