by David Evans
Cutler manoeuvred the vehicle back down the lane and returned to the village, taking the road that led up over the back of the mountain. He turned off a small, deserted lane that was used for maintenance vehicles to service the tall airport location beacon that flashed its red light throughout the night. He removed a black hooded sweatshirt and put it on, which blended in with his dark trousers. He then went through the same process as the other four earlier and blackened his face with the boot polish they had bought from the local shoe shop.
Cutler used the ladder that the others had left there to climb over the metal fencing surrounding the beacon and met up with Cortez, Colton, and Tuck. They had used the metal railings to secure two abseil lines down to the villas some sixty metres below, and had a similar ladder to get over the railing. This was the tricky bit, as there was not a ladder on the other side, just a sheer sixty-foot drop. They had to shimmy down the railings and reach down to grab the abseil line while holding on with the other hand.
Most abseilers secure the line to a harness, but this was impossible. What made the task harder was they carried about forty pounds each in backpacks.
Clad all in black, they were almost invisible against the rock backdrop. Colton and Cortez went down first, as they were the attacking team for the delegate’s villa. Tuck and Cutler went last, as they had chosen Werner’s villa.
The frontal view of the villas gave the appearance that they had been built into the rock face, but this was just an illusion. The rear walls ended a yard short of the rock face, and in this gap the ugly air conditioning units were sited and hidden from view.
Both Colton and Cortez had traversed sideward ten yards along the rock face and had landed on the roof of the delegate’s villa. All had rubber-soled boots on to minimize any noise on the clay tiles.
Tuck and Cutler ascended the ropes directly onto Werner’s roof. Once there, they removed rubber condoms and two bottles from their backpacks. They then removed industrial respirator face masks and put them on. They checked each other’s respirator straps to ensure they were sealed to the face correctly.
Tuck held the condom neck open for Cutler and inserted a small funnel into the condom. Cutler poured bleach into the condom until it expanded and was about a third full. Resealing the bleach, they opened and poured in ammonia.
Colton and Cortez removed their weapons and shimmied forward to the apex of the roof.
The waited quietly for ten minutes, and at two minutes to nine exactly, they cut and removed two screws and removed the top of the air conditioning units and placed in the condoms.
Two minutes later, the delegate left Werner’s villa to return to her own, with Von Baer and the four German minders. Cortez’s observation over the telescope had paid off; this was a nightly ritual.
Stage one of the plan was now underway. Shultz, perched on a boulder some hundred yards to the left, and with a clear view of the front patio area, fired the first shot. The SR-25 sniper rifle was on single shot, and the noise suppressor ensured no one heard the bullet as it spat out, nor saw the spark as the impingent gas ignited, propelling the projectile.
The four German minders were on all sides of the delegate and appeared disciplined and well trained. Von-Baer was lagging. The bullet hit the minder to the front of the delegate and nearest to the villa. His brain would not have time to register what was happening. The bullet entered through his nose, and the gaping exit wound at the back of his head was also the departure point for his brain matter, most of which ended up all over Von-Baer’s face.
Von-Baer was stunned and just stood there, wiping his hand over his face, and looking at the contents as he studied his hand. The minders were professionals and quickly recovered. Two of the Germans ushered the delegate inside the villa. The last minder took a Cortez bullet to the spine, snapping his back and killing him instantly.
Cutler, on the roof of Werner’s villa, put a large pin into the condom in the air conditioning unit, releasing the chlorine gas which would flood the villa.
Cortez and Colton advanced to the front of the delegate’s roof, ready to jump down to the bedroom patio three yards below the edge of the roof. They were surprised to see Von-Baer still standing there beside the infinity pool, obviously in shock. Colton had his weapon on semi-automatic and put a short burst into Von-Baer’s chest. The force of the volley lifted him off his feet and propelled him back a couple of metres, and he landed with a mighty splash into the pool, which turned crimson red immediately.
Cutler and Tuck took the same action as their counterparts on the Werner’s roof, advancing forward to the front of the roof and jumping down immediately.
The Turkish minders were less professional, and four of the six charged out, spluttering and coughing, weapons held high, ready to fire at the first target. It was unclear who killed whom as Colton and Cortez on the opposite bedroom balcony had a clear view, and Cutler and Tuck on the patio above them had a better view. All four put a short burst into the four minders and they died in each other’s blood pools, almost immediately.
Inside, the delegate was trying to use her mobile phone to dial out to the local police. Unbeknown to her, and causing concern and anger to the local population, Tuck had sabotaged the mobile phone reception tower, which was located within the same fenced-off area as the airport beacon. The landlines had been cut at the telegraph poles earlier in the day.
The delegate’s two minders ushered her to a downstairs bathroom that had no windows, and which they had classed as the safe room and last resort.
Nathan Colton earlier that day had purchased some saltpeter, a bag of toilet rolls, and a rug. He removed the paper from the rolls, while on the stove he had a skillet in which he had placed three parts saltpeter and one-part sugar. While the mixture heated, he cut out small pieces of rug and taped them to the bottom of the toilet rolls. When he was satisfied the mixture was done, he placed a cup full in each of the prepared toilet rolls. He impregnated strong tissue with the mixture and then twisted the tissue and put it at the other end of the toilet roll, thus creating a fuse. Homemade smoke bombs.
Colton handed three to Cortez and kept three for himself. They moved through the delegate’s bedroom, ensuring it was clear. Colton took point, and Cortez came up on the rear. Colton lit a smoke bomb and hurled it over the balustrade, and the smoke bomb burst on contact with the marble floor on the ground floor below. Cortez followed suit, and in total they threw four of the smoke bombs.
Meanwhile, Cutler and Tuck entered Werner’s bedroom in the same formation, with Cutler taking point. They kept on sweeping their heads from side to side, as the respirators limited their peripheral vision.
Before they could see the inhabitants of the villa, they could hear them, coughing and spluttering as the chlorine gas took effect on their respiratory systems. The noise emanating from them was men coughing, retching, and babbled shouts in Turkish.
Two of the Turkish minders could stand it no longer and burst out the front door with Uzi submachine guns spraying in all directions. The large Turk to the right continued to fire as he entered the swimming pool backward, as Shultz lined up the shot and the bullet entered the Turk’s heart a millisecond later.
The smaller Turk hit the deck immediately to minimize his profile to the sniper. All this achieved was that the next bullet entered his forehead rather than the larger target, his chest.
Cutler ran back to the external patio outside the bedroom in case Shultz had missed his shot, worrying needlessly in case they were flanking Cortez and Colton. Pointing two fingers up and then crossing his throat, he indicated to Tuck: two men down, four to go.
Tuck entered the top of the stairwell, which was a semi-circle of steps down to the ground floor, but he could see clearly to the bottom and saw Werner on the floor, gasping for breath. However, he could not see Bauer, who they all agreed was the most potent threat.
Cutler tied a rope to the balustrade and waited for the moment Bauer was bound to show himself; after all, Tuck had set hi
mself up as a target.
Bullets sprayed upwards in the delegate’s villa towards Cortez and Colton, who took shelter in the first bedroom off the stairs. The moment the volley of bullets stopped as the two remaining German minders took a second to reload their magazines, Cortez and Colton ran out of the bedroom and returned the favour. A scream told them one had been hit. Once their guns had run dry of ammunition, Cortez dove back into the bedroom and Colton dove to the right, taking shelter behind a concrete pillar holding the balustrade in place.
Cortez popped his gun out and took one shot towards the German left standing to draw fire. The volley was returned immediately, too quick to get out of the way. Cortez took a round in his right shoulder and slumped backward.
Colton observed Cortez rock back on his feet before sinking to the ground. No sooner had the volley ceased than he leap-frogged the balustrade and began firing on his way down the six-yard drop to the ground floor. He took the German out mid-flight, at around four yards from the floor; his burst ripped the German minder’s head apart like a watermelon exploding. The crunch he felt as he landed was his right ankle snapping.
He immediately jumped up on his good leg and hopped around to ensure the minder they had hit from the volley upstairs was dead. He was not and was trying to reload his gun but was hampered, as he had been shot in his leading right arm. Colton also had an empty magazine. The minder was kneeling up, trying to use the floor to leverage the gun while loading a magazine with his unnatural hand. Colton dropped his weapon and rapidly felt at the back of his neck, quickly withdrawing a short, six-inch knife from its sheath beneath his shirt.
The German minder had succeeded and spun towards Colton with his finger reaching for the trigger and wondering why his finger would not move. The knife had entered his left eye, thrown with such force it had pierced the brain, but the second that it took to die was filled with thinking, Why won’t my finger move?
Cutler, in Werner’s villa, had mimicked Colton’s move and jumped from the balustrade as Bauer unsuccessfully tried to kill Tuck at the top of the stairs. Tuck was quick and rolled immediately into the bedroom.
Bauer was shocked when Cutler landed on him from above. He lost his weapon immediately and was winded. Werner was unarmed and gasping for breath; the noise was unmistakable as he gasped through his artificial voice box.
Bauer looked up from the floor at the towering man all in black and his face covered by a respirator.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Take a guess; you killed my parents.”
By this time, Tuck had traversed the staircase two steps at a time and had his gun trained on Werner.
Werner sputtered, “Cutler.”
“Got it in one.”
Cutler surprised Tuck by placing his gun down on a glass table.
“This is where I say I’m going to give you a chance. But if you kill me, Bauer, Tuck over there is going to put a bullet into you anyway.”
“I’m going to take you with me.” Bauer swept his leg expertly, taking Cutler’s legs out from under him, and he slammed to the floor. In the same motion, Bauer took a knife from a sheath on his thigh and jumped onto Cutler. Cutler grabbed Bauer’s knife hand with both of his, clasped as in prayer. Tuck swung his gun around to the back of Bauer’s head.
“Don’t you do it, Tuck. This fucker is mine for what he did to my family!”
Bauer pressed down with all his might and was looking directly into Cutler’s eyes.
“Shame I didn’t get to your sister first. Nice little titties: could have had some fun there,” Bauer spat out.
Cutler flicked Bauer’s knee away and brought his own up with force between Bauer’s legs, crushing his testicles. He then pushed Bauer off and Cutler stood up, giving his opponent a few seconds to recover, and taking a breath himself.
“After I’m finished with this piece of shit, you’re next, Werner,” Cutler said coldly as he looked at Werner.
Cutler backed off to the table as Bauer regained his breath and stood, knife in hand, ready to launch another attack. Cutler felt behind him and took a hold of a slate placemat he had spotted when he had placed his gun on the table.
Bauer jumped up several feet and propelled himself at Cutler and tried to stab him on the way down, but Cutler jumped back.
“You’ve been watching Hercules in Troy, you prick! That sort of thing only works in the movies,” Cutler goaded him.
Bauer ran at him with his hand half back, ready to stab at Cutler, who was only showing a side profile. As Bauer got within stabbing distance, Cutler spun on his axis, so the thrust went past his left shoulder. Cutler turned to his right instantly and moved his hand that clenched the slate plate, cutting it across Bauer’s right thigh. Reflexes and self-preservation took over and Bauer dropped his knife as his hands went to his leg. He tried desperately to stem the flow, firstly to stop the bright red, oxygenated blood that was spurting out from his femoral artery.
“I wouldn’t bother, Bauer. You can’t stop it, and you have about five minutes left on this planet. Mark Twain once said, ‘Heaven is for the climate, and hell is for the company.’ I think you’re going to have lots of company, not to mention your boss,” Cutler said, as he walked over to Werner.
“Herr Werner, last time I saw you, you had your throat ripped out by a bullet. Now you are on the floor gasping like a dog in heat. I never seem to meet you when you’re at your best.”
“You want me to put a bullet between his eyes, boss?” Tuck said eagerly.
“No, Tuck, go back upstairs and mix one of our condom balloons. We lock this fucker in a bathroom for five minutes; he can hardly breathe now. A bullet is too good for our Herr Werner,” Cutler said, as Tuck turned and went back up the stairs.
“Cutler, be reasonable. I have money, millions of euros; it could all be yours,” Werner spluttered out in his metallic voice.
“I already have millions, Werner. Who do you think got Richter out?”
Reality hit Werner as Cutler dragged him to a bathroom and threw him to the floor. The bathroom was without windows and was illuminated as bright as daylight with an array of inbuilt LED lights.
Tuck returned. Cutler put a pin prick through the condom and sent it soaring into the bathroom. Cutler slammed the door shut and retrieved a second balloon from Tuck. Toxic chloramine gas from the bleach and ammonia in the condom spread across the bathroom floor and began to rise. Werner choked and began to beat on the door.
“Stay here and check on him in ten minutes. That should do it.”
Cutler took his gun and exited the villa. Cortez lined up Cutler in his sights and saw his hair illuminate in his sights. All four of them had washed their hair previously in tonic water; it gave off an unusual glow through the sniper’s rifle and enabled Cortez to define foe from friend.
Cortez smiled to himself. “Villa One secure,” he said to himself.
Cutler took a quick look through the front entrance door and back out again to analyse what he saw. A second glance told him all he needed to know, and he entered the villa.
Colton was sitting next to Cortez and was administering first aid. He had ripped open the shirt, and Cutler could see that Cortez was grimacing as Colton worked his knife into his shoulder to remove the bullet.
“You a doctor as well?” Cutler said, half in jest.
“You should be asking how we are,” Colton replied.
“I can see how you are; in need of more training, looking at Cortez. And you’re missing a boot and your ankle looks like an elephant’s.”
“It’s not training we need, its bulletproof vests, you cheapskate,” returned the banter.
“Where’s the delegate?” Cutler inquired on a more serious note.
“In the bathroom.”
Cutler walked over to the bathroom, put a pin in the balloon and threw it in as the delegate screamed abuse.
After several minutes, Tuck walked in. “Didn’t take him long to die.”
“Get these two into one of
the German’s Range Rovers. I’ll be out in a minute,” Cutler replied.
“What about the bodies?” Tuck asked.
They had previously identified an old water well in the mountains with a domed concrete roof that had not been used this century. The well went down over a hundred fifty metres deep, they guessed, by dropping a coin and counting. It was going to be the counterfeiters’ final resting place.
“We’ve got these two out of action; too much damage, too much time. Change of plan. The delegate is locked in the safe room and we have bodies to move and not enough muscle to get the job done.”
As Tuck helped Colton and Cortez to the car, Cutler removed his short-wave radio and spoke to Shultz. “Can you see the three liquid petroleum gas bottles at the rear of the building between the house and the side of the cliff?” He waited for the reply. “Good, light those up as soon as we leave, should make for a good cremation. Even in the safe room the fire will take out the generators which are pumping oxygen into the room.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cutler accompanied Cortez, Shultz and Colton for post-action medicals in a private hospital in Geneva, where Stahmer and Lachiman were recuperating from Sebastian’s attack. Tuck wanted to get back to Cheryl, as she was pregnant, he had informed a surprised Cutler.
Shultz and Cutler travelled to the private Ospedale Evangelico Villa Betania hospital in Naples. They visited Stahmer, who had been brought round from an induced coma the night before. They were mightily relieved that his prognosis was good, and he would be back on his feet within two weeks. The bad news was he would either wear a patch on his eye for the rest of his life or would need a glass eye. Stahmer had shrugged it off, saying he was still better looking than Colton and Cortez, even with a patch.
Next, they visited Lachiman.
“We’ve heard all about you from Mr Stahmer and would like to thank you for saving his life. We would like to offer you a position in our company.”