Lesson Learned- Mission Report 1

by G J Stevens

  After handing over our bags and taking a seat on the deep leather beside her, Ally grabbed me by the shoulders and squeezed me in a tight embrace.

  “You excited?” she said, not able to hide her own joy.

  “Of course,” I replied, a real smile fixed on my face. “But I thought we were going to...” I paused, not sure of the words. “...Be at your place?”

  “Oh no. Not at the house. No.”

  “I thought Lenara and the kids would have been out. Wouldn’t we be more comfortable there?”

  “No. Not at the house,” she insisted. “Anyway, you haven't seen where we're going.”

  “Can you imagine what I thought as I saw all those old women in the front room?” I said, not needing to feign the shock.

  Ally burst out in a howl of laughter and it soon dawned on me that I needed a change of plan.

  I only agreed to the situation thinking I’d just be going through the motions to get them alone in the house, get them in a state where I could find out more about that room and somehow see if it was safe to access. But now that approach was out of the question. We were going somewhere out of my control and I had to figure out how the hell I’d get out of what they had planned for me.

  “Where are we going?” I said, waiting for when I knew my voice would sound calm.

  “An amazing hotel, well out of the way.”

  “You’ve been there before?” I said.

  A grin came back in reply. “Settle back, you look so nervous.”

  She was right and now I had every right to be, but I did as she said and settled into the seat, watching her open a compartment at our feet and pull out a bottle of champagne, condensation dripping to the carpet.

  We drank whilst keeping the conversation light, talking about anything other than what we were in for. Then, without warning, she paused and turned my way, her face wide with alarm.

  “You are wearing them, aren’t you?”

  A grin launched to my face without my control. “I am.”

  Her tension disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Don’t they feel so amazing?” she said.

  I agreed and told her they fit so well.

  “One of those things I can do,” she replied, raising her eyebrows before returning the conversation back to yesterday’s shopping trip.

  Time raced by the darkened windows, as it always seemed to in Ally’s company, and before I’d fully prepared my nerves, we pulled up under the canopy of a hotel.

  The door opened soon after, with our bags handed off to a waiting porter.

  I stepped out wide-eyed, taking in the entrance bathed in golden light. Ally linked her arm in mine. Our heels clicked across the stone floor as the tall maître d’ showed us to the bar.

  “He’ll be finishing up in the next half hour,” Ally said, tipping her head across the wide reception.

  I followed her look and peered through the open restaurant door. Frank sat at a table with his side to us.

  If he’d seen us arrive he didn’t let on. He laughed as he ate, talking with a short fat man whose hands gesticulated out in front of his face.

  “Business,” she said, as she turned to the barman, ordering a bottle of champagne whilst taking off her coat and handing it to a porter who’d appeared at our side.

  My jaw almost dropped to see her outfit was a near match for my own; her black skirt maybe just a little shorter, the line of her top sweeping much lower than I’d dared.

  She smirked in my direction as I stared back at her tilted-head question.

  “Your coat?” she said, smiling. “Come on. You can’t wear that all night. Let’s have a look at you.”

  I peeled off the coat and handed it to the uniformed man at my side, soon aware of the sharp conditioned air giving me a sense of how few clothes I wore.

  Ally surveyed me from head to foot with her eyebrows raised. I’m sure it was the dry air that made her lick her lips.

  With care I raised myself up to sit on the bar stool, trying my best not to expose the expensive lingerie barely masking what waited underneath. Taking up a glass, I clinked it with Ally’s as she offered.

  With each mouthful I relaxed a little more, our conversation only tempered by being in a public location, although the lounge populated with only the odd group here and there; a few businessmen gathered around drinks and two guys in sharp suits who seemed out of place, each sitting alone with their backs to the bar.

  Using the mirror as I chatted, I kept glancing over, watching as they continually scanned the room. Not overt, but because of my nature and training, it was more than obvious.

  As I observed between Ally’s flow of conversation, I noticed although both were wearing different suits, their builds different, each jacket had been tailored oversized.

  It could only mean one of a few things;

  they’d both lost weight, although their trousers seemed right; they both had the same tailor who liked to give a little space for growth, or they were trying to hide something.

  My pessimistic mind drew the latter conclusion and assumed the space would be for a handgun.

  Before I could make any more observations, I caught the sound of Frank’s voice booming a goodbye.

  I turned, watching him in the mirror as he shook the fat guy’s hand before hugging him, then holding his palm out in a stationary wave as the guy walked behind us. I caught sight in the bar’s mirror of a glance in our direction, the fat guy taking in the view of our pair of asses.

  I turned, forcing my knees together. Ally followed, hers not so tightly pressed.

  Frank greeted us at the bar, soon presented with a drink with no one asking.

  “Great to see you, Al,” he said. “You look beautiful as always,” he added, leaning forward and giving her a lingering peck on the cheek as he held her bare shoulders.

  Both turned in my direction, Frank’s smile almost as wide as Ally’s. “And Catarina, so amazing you could make it. We’re going to have such a great time on this momentous occasion.”

  I thought for a moment on his words as he walked the two steps in my direction, then realised what he was referring to.

  His hands were huge and warm on the tops of my bare arms, his touch stealing my breath as we both leant forward. I could hear him taking a slow deep breath as his face came closer, eventually planting his lips on my cheek. With my head beside his I saw another man whose jacket hung too large, following some way behind Frank from the restaurant.

  “Come. Let’s sit down,” Frank said as he ushered us towards a round lounge chair.

  “Let’s just go upstairs,” Ally announced with a high-pitched tone and gesturing with her hands towards the lift, barely keeping the champagne within the glass.

  “Al,” Frank said, raising his eyebrows in her direction. “I know you’ve been looking forward to this, but why don’t we savour the moment? Take some time to get acquainted.”

  I smiled as he lingered in my direction.

  “Don’t you think, Cat? I hope you don’t mind if I call you Cat?”

  “Of course I don’t,” I replied, feeling calmer with each of his words as my voice slowed. “I want to get to know the man who’s going to be the special one.” I couldn’t believe I’d just said those words.

  I watched on with the breath caught in my lungs as I saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall whilst he took a deep draw.

  “Great, let’s sit down and get some refreshment.”

  As he turned, I spoke again.

  “I’m just going to use the bathroom first.”

  He gave a corner-mouth smile in reply as I took care over each step, heading the short walk across the foyer, hearing Ally’s excited whispers as I pushed the heavy door and took refuge in a stall.

  They’d taken my coat and with it the tablet-lined pocket.

  Racing through what I should do next, all I could come up with was the hope I’d find it in the room with the bags; the room where the deed was going to happen. I’d have to slip them into their drinks and
buy myself time for the effect.

  Everything had complicated with the one simple act and I racked my brains to figure out how I could hope to get out of this whole disaster.

  Could I feign illness?

  Could I say I wasn’t ready?

  Too nervous?

  Something unexpected had come up?

  My thoughts crashed to a halt as a loud bang ran from the foyer. A sound I was all too familiar with. A sound I knew could only be a gun shot.

  20

  With barely a thought I jumped from the stall, wrapping my fingers around the handle and wrestling the heavy washroom door open. To screams in the background, at arm’s reach, a bald, fat guy in a cheap black suit stood waving a pistol across my view as he screamed rushed commands into the frantic room.

  I’d soon figured his lack of skill when he still hadn’t seen me by the time I’d taken in the room’s detail, the most important of which was the gun pointed in Ally’s direction as she shielded Frank for the second time since we’d met.

  Time didn’t slow like they say in the movies; my reactions were instant. Simultaneously, I pushed out my palms with the right just ahead to catch the hot barrel of the Ruger GP100 six shooter, my left balled, smacking at his wrist. It didn’t land as well as I’d hoped, but punched with enough force for the intended effect.

  The guy turned, his sagging jowls following, but too late to prevent what would come next. With his left hand empty, as now was his right, the gun passed by the hot barrel from my right hand to my left whilst tracking down the length of his leg, stopping only a fraction of a second before I blew a wide hole in his foot.

  As his foot exploded, his fists unclenched and with a high scream he collapsed to the floor with his hands reaching out to clutch what remained.

  I took a step back, the washroom door cold on my upper arms as two of the bodyguards rounded with their SIG Sauers trained at his mass, their eyes flitting between the wounded man and the gun in my hand.

  Ally ran over, dragging me away, her palm out to the men, making it clear I was on their side. Frank had disappeared. In the corner of my vision I’d seen one of his men pushing him past a shattered mirror and into the restaurant.

  Ally took the gun from my loose grip, her thumb flicking the safety before placing it on a nearby table.

  “You okay?” she said with her warm hands rubbing up and down my upper arms.

  I waited to answer, pulling in a deep breath I didn’t need to take.

  “What just happened?” I said, forcing myself to gulp at the air.

  “That man tried to kill Frank.”

  “Oh my god. Is he all right?” I replied, letting my tone rise.

  “He is because of you, but we’d better get out of here.”

  Ally called over to the nearest guy in an over-sized suit jacket.

  “Get the car out front,” she said, her tone sterner than I’d heard before, even when chastising the Bukia’s kids. The guy didn’t question the command, instead nodding as he spoke into his cuff whilst walking away to help his colleague search the crumpled mass on the floor.

  We were out of the hotel in less than a minute. Out of town in another ten, speeding down a long lonely road with Ally’s arms surrounding my cold shoulders.

  “What was all that about?” I ventured.

  Ally pulled herself back upright and leant forward to a compartment where she pulled out a metal hip flask. Unscrewing the top, she took a swig before offering it over.

  “It’ll help with the shock,” she said, and I let her place it in my hand.

  The liquid bit at the back of my throat, vapours reaching up to my sinus, turning to warmth as it travelled down. I took another and turned, waiting for the answer.

  For over a minute I watched her think, watched her expression change as she planned, checking over what she was about to say. “Frank is a very important man. He has influences all over the world. His company has enemies.”

  “Enemies? Is this the first time someone has tried to kill him?”

  “No, not the first. There are people who don’t like what he does. What his company does.”

  “Hence the bodyguards.”

  “He’ll be getting new ones real soon,” she said, pausing with her mouth open, apparently unsure if she should voice what waited on the tip of her tongue.

  “What does he do that’s so bad?” I replied.

  “Nothing,” she snapped back.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, but someone must think it’s bad. You just said so,” I said, holding my hands up to her.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said and leant forward, holding me in a tight embrace. Still clutching my upper arms, she spoke quietly at my ear. “Some people want a piece of him, like he has a value. Some people want him to stop what he’s doing so they can carry on making money. If he succeeds, then he’ll put many people out of business. But enough of that,” she said, pulling out of the embrace. “Now it’s your turn,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

  “What?” I replied, doing my best to feign surprise.

  “How did you learn to do that?” she replied, her eyebrows still high on her forehead.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t be coy.” The softness had disappeared from her words and I knew I couldn't act this out forever.

  “My dad was in the RAF. When he heard where I was going he made me take self-defence classes. Two solid weeks of training.”

  “With guns?” she said, her voice rising as her eyebrows relaxed.

  “He knows they’re everywhere here, so he insisted I knew how to handle anything I came across.”

  “But still those were some amazing moves. I saw everything. You didn’t even pause for thought. That guy went down as soon as you were out of the bathroom.”

  “Am I going to get in trouble for shooting him? Will the police be after me?” I said, letting myself shrink back into the seat.

  Ally’s arm appeared on my shoulder and she drew me close. “No. Frank will see to that,” she said, letting me go. “I don’t understand how you could train with guns in the UK. Your laws are so rigid.”

  “My dad pulled a few strings. He used to be in some cross-service group and got a couple of his friends still in the army to give me the training.”

  “What unit?”

  “I’m not sure. SES or something?”

  “The SAS?”

  “Yeah, that sounds about right. I think they specialise in jumping out of planes or something. Nice guys though and seemed to know what they were talking about.”

  Ally laughed as I knew she would and she seemed happy to accept my story, for now at least, pushing the hip flask towards my left hand. I accepted the whiskey again, taking it with my right.

  “Are you left-handed?” she said as she watched me drink.

  “No,” I replied with a frown, until I realised the reason for the question. “They taught me ambidextrously. I’m much better with my right, but there’s not always enough time to do it that way, they would say, and they were correct.”

  “Wow,” she said. “I...” she added, but stopped herself saying any more.

  “And you seemed to know a thing or two yourself. You flipped the gun to safe like you’ve handled before.”

  She burst out laughing and I realised the innuendo.

  “I’ve handled a few before,” she said as she calmed. “No seriously, my dad took me to the range since I was young. He too was in the military.”

  I knew that was likely to be a lie. The gun laws in Germany were almost as restrictive as at home.

  “Where are we going?” I said, even though I knew we were on the road home.

  “Home. I think it best, don’t you? We must reconvene soon though, but that kind of killed the mood,” she said as she laughed.

  “Shall we have a drink first?” I ventured, too wired to go back to the Rozman’s to sleep. “Please?”

  “An amazing idea,” she replied and leant forward to the driver, speaking quietly.r />
  Soon we arrived at the next town, still half an hour away from home. We stopped outside a small bar and the driver pulled open the door.

  It was still early in the evening and the bar sat quiet. Only when all the eyes in the room stared in our direction, the men’s tongues rolling out onto the table and the women’s eyes squinting, I remembered how little I wore.

  I tried to mimic Ally’s confident trot to the bar and we ordered from the short cocktail menu, finding a booth by the window before sidling up close to each other so we could talk quietly.

  “How are you getting on with Celina and Lenart now?”

  “Fine, I think. Celina has backed off. I might have seen the real side of her now. She’s lonely in that house and not happy with Lenart, that’s obvious.”

  “That pig. There’s something odd about him.”

  “Apart from being a dirty old man?”

  “Most are dirty old men at heart, aren’t they?” she said, and we burst into laughter, a repeat of the drinks arriving at the table unasked for. The barman pointed to a group of four twenty-something men who looked over. Renewing our laughter, we toasted in their direction, shaking our heads as they stood.

  “He’s odd though,” she said. “I mean, he’s a nosey fucker. I’ve seen him in his garden looking up at the house. Nothing too obvious. He’s usually doing something else, but seeming to always keep glancing up towards us.”

  “Maybe he’s hoping to catch you naked? Or Lenara?”

  Laughter burst out again.

  “I’m sure he’s harmless, but he gives me the creeps. When the builders had the place, they said he came around several times asking questions about what they were doing.”

  “Why would he be interested?”

  “I don’t know. It was nothing more interesting than a remodel,” she replied. “It must have been bad because otherwise the builders wouldn’t have said anything. He was asking what the materials were for.”

  “What do you mean?” I replied, trying to hold back my enthusiasm for where this was leading.

  “I’m no builder,” she said, and I tilted my head to the side.

  “Really?” I replied, grinning.

  Ally put her hand on my bare knee and with a sharp look she told me to stop being silly. My breath caught until she moved her hand back to her drink.