Breakout
Page 24
Caroline reached forward and gingerly stretched to place a hand on King’s shoulder. She squeezed affectionally, the emotion of finally being together, of what had happened back at the prison – of being injured, of Adams – finally caught up with her and she started to sob. She wiped her eyes and said, “That sounds wonderful, Alex. Let’s just disappear for a bit. You’ve done enough, MI5 can just miss us for a while…”
Chapter Sixty-Three
Georgetown, Colorado
The motel was a log cabin style frontier lodge. The foyer was open-plan with a high ceiling with giant hand-carved crossbeams, the walls covered with mounted hunting trophies and a variety of horn and antler. Logs a whole foot in diameter were stacked alongside a fireplace large enough to roast an entire hog in. King guessed from the look of metal loops either side that somebody had at some time or other.
They were high in the Rockies, at an old mining town famed for its steam railway and unique loop bridge which allowed for the tremendous gradient down the mountainside. The motel was simple, run by two bearded men who seemed to watch Bonanza on a loop, and would have passed as extras on the show from their appearance and attire. King had gone out for tea, coffee and pastries and had ended up watching most of an episode before he passed through reception on his way to the car. He could have eaten from the breakfast the two men put out, but in truth, it hadn’t been that good yesterday. And besides, he liked the excuse to drive the five-litre Mustang he had hired in back in Denver. It was loud and fast and comfortable, and it made the idea of such a long drive seem like an adventure. It wasn’t low-key, it was a dream car, and American icon, and it made him feel like a tourist. He nodded at one of the men at the desk as he returned, but the man was staring at the TV engrossed in Little Joe giving woman advice to Hoss. King knew it wouldn’t work out for Hoss and passed through with breakfast.
Overlooking a courtyard with an outdoor hot tub and a small indoor pool, King knocked on the lodge door and waited for Caroline to unlock. He always gave two sharp knocks, a long pause and then another knock. Caroline greeted him wearing just a silk negligee. King smiled. It may well have been packed as a tantalising treat, but it was light and soft and just the thing for wearing over ten puncture wounds and twenty stitches. He kissed her lightly on the lips and put the bag of pastries on the table and handed her the coffee. It was strong and black. King’s tea was white with one sugar. He drunk some from the sealed lid opening, cursed at the temperature.
“Utah today,” Caroline said. “We can drive all through the high desert and pass through Monument Valley, find a place to stay before Nevada and see the Grand Canyon in a couple of days’ time.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Vegas?”
“No,” King sipped some more tea and picked up the tattered map. “Not my scene.”
“You’d hate it,” she agreed. She sipped some coffee and sat down on the bed. “There’s nothing on the news, but there have been reports of prisoners being swept up by the military and the FBI on the internet. The sites are getting shut down, but they can’t shut down Facebook and Twitter so easily. It’s out there. Reports of a secret CIA prison subjected to a mass breakout.”
King looked at his watch. It was his vintage Rolex, and Caroline had brought it with her from England. “Zukovsky should be at sea by now.”
“With Rashid,” she said. “I hope he has an uneventful journey. That Russian bastard can’t be trusted for a moment.”
King nodded. “He won’t get the better of Rashid, and I imagine Mereweather put some security in place as part of the arrangement.”
“Ramsay will be in Thames House by now. He’ll need to be creative with his accounting for this trip,” she smiled. “Not least for that bloody car you hired!”
“I think I deserve a break,” King smiled, taking a Danish out of the bag and passing it to her. “We all do.”
“I hope it was worth it,” she said quietly. “There was a heavy price to pay.” Adams had paid the ultimate price and it would sit heavily with everyone. Rashid had now doubted his idea of non-lethal ammunition. Had the man only had live-ammo, then the tables would have been turned. King felt guilt at having walked out into their trap, and Ramsay would shoulder the burden as the operation leader. As Caroline said; there was a heavy price to pay.
“There always is,” King agreed. He bit into the Danish and chewed thoughtfully before washing it down with some more tea. He thought of the men he’d killed over the years, the women, too. The colleagues and friends he’d lost along the way. “And we never found Cole.”
Caroline nodded. “That troubles you?”
“I don’t think I’ve seen the last of him,” he replied. He lifted his shirt tail and took the 9mm pistol out from his waistband and put it down on the table. He caught sight of them both in the full-length mirror. They looked a sorry pair with King’s bruises over his face, slightly swollen ear and lip, and the way Caroline moved tentatively, nursing her coffee, the sheer silk of the negligee enough to disturb her stitches. “I don’t like having to look over my shoulder,” he added.
“Sometimes it’s part of our job,” she said.
King nodded. He knew the reality of his profession. It wasn’t merely part of his job, but his entire way of life. He also knew that he preferred to be the hunter, not the hunted. And that he couldn’t rest while both he and Caroline were under threat.
Author’s Note
Hi, and thanks for reading this far - without you, I’d be out of a job, so it really is appreciated!
By now you will know there are other Alex King novels and you can find all the buying links here: www.apbateman.com You can also subscribe to my mailing list and newsletter, get in contact with me directly, read about the other books and reach Amazon to leave a much-appreciated review.
I hope to entertain you with another story soon…
A P Bateman