Royal Blood The Complete Collection

by Amity Cross

  “Things go wrong,” I murmured into her ear. “People are unpredictable. You can plan, but nothing is guaranteed.”

  She turned away. “I know.”

  I found myself wanting to console her, but it wouldn’t do any good. She just had to pick herself up and get on with it. I learned the hard way, by being beaten and tortured. I associated pain with weakness. Mercy didn't have that and I didn’t understand how she couldn’t. Perhaps she had to be shown...

  “I’m going to talk to McLewen,” I declared. We’d been out on the water a few hours now and I was getting impatient with sitting still…and the endless conversations with Mercy about…fucking emotions.

  I stood and to my surprise, Mercy stood with me. I gave her a look, but she just shoved past me, walking out onto the main deck.

  We found McLewen at the bow, leaning against the railing, oblivious to the spray of water each time the trawler crested a wave. Mercy moved away as I approached the Captain, eager to get my feet back onto solid ground.

  I hesitated a moment and watched as she grasped the railing and peered over the edge into the water below. I wondered if it was a fear thing she was trying to face, but then I disregarded it, concentrating on the task at hand.

  “How far out are we?” I asked McLewen.

  He straightened up. “Not far. Bout a mile. We hae tae make sure th' coast is clear before we sit ye loose. Axel will tak' ye tae shair.”

  I assumed Axel was the sailor that picked us up at Portsmouth. Mercy mightn’t like the movement underfoot, but I didn’t like the confines of the trawler at all.

  McLewen peered through his binoculars again, scanning the horizon. A moment later a young sailor appeared beside us and tugged on his sleeve.

  “Radar is clear, Captain.”

  “Aye.” He went back to his binoculars without a second thought.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You still need those?”

  “I don’t be trustin’ those things,” McLewen said with a hearty laugh. “I be trustin’ whit God gae me. The two eyes in mah heed.”

  Mercy glanced over her shoulder at us, watching us with a curious expression, and I nodded to reassure her.

  “Alright. Th’ coast be clear. Git yoorselves tae th' boat an' Axel will sort ye from thar.”

  “Thank you.”

  He let out a loud laugh and clapped me on the shoulder. “No need tae thank me, laddie. Vaughn pays me well enaw.”

  I gestured for Mercy to come and she pushed off the railing. We made our way to the side of the boat where the man from earlier was lowering the dinghy into the ocean.

  Casting my gaze out across the water, I saw the faint glow of lights in the distance. Land wasn’t very far away. The closer the trawler came to French soil, the most likely it would be picked up by authorities. This was as near to shore as McLewen was probably comfortable with. If we were caught on his deck, he and his crew would be royally screwed.

  Axel threw the rope ladder over the edge and nodded that he was ready for us.

  “Do you need a hand?” I asked Mercy and she rolled her eyes.

  Striding forward, she threw a leg over the side and positioned herself on the ladder. I snorted at the irony of the situation. There was bold and then there was bold to prove a point. A moment later, she disappeared.

  I went next and by the time I’d gotten to the bottom, Mercy was looking rather pale. Axel was last in and cranked the outboard motor. It roared into life and we sped off from the side of the trawler out into the silver speckled water.

  The bow hit the shore and I jumped out into the shallows, water splashing around my boots and seeping inside. Holding out my hand to Mercy, she grasped it and followed suit.

  “Here is your dead drop location,” Axel said, handing me an envelope that had been wrapped in a clear plastic sleeve.

  I handed the envelope to Mercy and she made her way to dry land. I remained to help Axel push the boat back out into the water. I watched for a moment as it dipped in and out of the waves as he returned to the trawler, which was coasting a mile or so offshore. Working closely with someone…was I ready for this? I had to be.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I made my way up the beach to Mercy, who was standing with her arms wrapped around her middle, waiting for me.

  I held out my hand for the envelope and she handed it to me. There was enough moonlight to see what I was doing and enough that anyone who might be lurking would see us out in the open. I pulled out the envelope and quickly scanned the contents.

  We had a mile and a half to go and I held out my hand for Mercy’s. I seemed to be holding on to her a lot lately.

  “It’s not far,” I murmured.

  She didn’t respond and we made our way up the beach to the cover of the cliffs and scrub above.

  We had a long way to go yet. The game had only just begun.

  The dead drop was a shed on the outskirts of an abandoned property, approximately two miles from the village of Veules-les-Roses.

  The house was falling down and the shed didn’t look much better. The windows were broken and the paint had all but peeled off of the weatherboard cladding. Darkness had taken this place, as well as nature. Nobody would be looking for anything of value here.

  I opened the old wooden doors of the shed and propped them open with rocks that were lying around the yard. Inside was a large mound, covered in shadow. This had to be the cache, there was no other place it could be.

  The shed was clean of any traps or trip wires, so I stepped inside and curled my hands into the edge of the shadowed mound, which turned out to be a dark colored tarp, and pulled it back.

  Underneath was a black sedan with EU French plates, not a new model, but it looked decent enough for the job. Mercy stepped forward and I reach out and grasped her hand.

  “Wait a moment,” I said, shoving the tarp to one side.

  She frowned, cocking her head to the side. “Why?”

  Ignoring her, I got down onto my hands and knees and peered underneath the car. I did the same with the other side and the front and the back, searching for any wiring or explosives that might be rigged to the chassis. I didn’t think that Vaughn would screw us over, but I wasn’t taking any chances that his men wouldn’t.

  “I thought you were buddies?” Mercy said, watching my progress.

  I rose to my feet, satisfied that the car wouldn’t explode when I opened the door. “The first rule in this business is not to trust anyone.”

  I heard her sharp intake of air, but I ignored that too. Testing the drivers side door, it opened with a click. When nothing happened, I opened it all the way and slid inside. Flipping down the visor, a set of keys fell out into my lap and I pocketed them. Leaning down, I pressed the button below the seat to release the lock on the boot and I climbed back out again.

  Mercy followed me around to the back as I opened the rear and we both stared is shock as the cache Vaughn had left for us was revealed.

  There were numerous black and silver hard cases stashed inside, some large and some small, along with a black duffle bag jammed into one corner. I flipped open one of the smaller cases and found a semi-automatic handgun inside. It looked brand fucking new and I shook my head. Vaughn was showing off.

  “Holy fuck…” Mercy murmured, her jaw dropping open.

  “Well, at least he was a man of his word where the hardware was concerned,” I mused.

  Unzipping the duffle, I found the paperwork that Vaughn had promised me. Sorting through it, I found blueprints, photographs and various documents. We’d need to sit down and go through these with a fine-tooth-comb the moment we found a place to rest our heads. Sykes was due to meet Lafayette on the twenty-seventh at nine pm. That was three days from now.

  There was a click as Mercy opened one of the cases. Inside was a sniper rifle and I saw her eyes spark with recognition.

  “It’s a similar model to the one you learned with,” I said. “But it has a longer rage.”

  She ran her fingers over the black an
d silver firearm before blinking and snapping the case closed.

  “Where to now?” she asked. “Are we going straight to Paris?”

  “Yes,” I replied, closing the boot with a dull thud. “We go to the city and find a quiet place to sort through the intel. We will have a better idea which way to go once we know all the players.”

  I gestured for her to get in the car and I climbed back into the drivers seat. No good would come of it if we lingered here. We had what we came for and now we needed to get on the road to find someplace safe to plan our next move. It was too open here and the location was known and easily compromised. We had to leave.

  Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared into life, the lights on the dash casting a dull glow through the interior.

  Without a second thought, I backed out of the shed and coasted out to the road. It wasn’t until we’d gone a mile from the dead drop that I switched the headlights on.

  It was three hours to Paris and three hours until sunrise. Then we had three days to plan.

  I’d completed hits with much less information and time, but this one was different in so many ways. I had Mercy with me for one. I wasn’t convinced that she was okay with this, but we had run out of time. I had to watch her like a hawk. If one single piece of this plan fell apart, the whole thing would be obliterated.

  There would be no second chances when we were dead.

  Chapter 17

  Mercy

  Boats sucked. Midnight liaisons with weapon caches sucked, too.

  It felt real on the trawler, this whole crazy scheme, but now reality had bitch-slapped me around the face. It stung. It really fucking stung.

  We were on the road to Paris, the sky still dark. X said it would take about three hours since we had to go around Rouen. The more we could stick to back roads the better. The sun would rise with our arrival in the city.

  There was nothing to do for now but sit back and enjoy the ride. X had the wheel and the smarts to get us to our next destination.

  We hardly spoke, X’s gaze locked on the road ahead. Every so often he’d check the mirrors, but he was firmly on task. There was nothing to talk about until we got to wherever it was that we were going to inside the Paris city limits. Who could make small talk at a time like this?

  I thought back to the hit I’d planned on Sykes and realized it had been amateur. I’d been a child playing games that had had dire consequences. This was real. This right here with X. What we were doing was the big leagues.

  X glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned. I watched him as he checked the side mirror, is hands tightening around the steering wheel.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “We’re being followed.”

  “Are you sure?” I glanced over my shoulder and saw a pair of headlights in the distance behind us.

  “I’ve taken a winding path, Mercy. We’re being followed.”

  My heart began to speed up. “Vaughn?”

  X shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

  “Then how did they find us?”

  X didn’t reply, he just slowed the car some, letting our tail catch up.

  “What are you doing?” I exclaimed. “Shouldn’t we be going faster?”

  “No, Mercy,” X replied with an air of annoyance. “They'll just find us again.”

  “What…” I began to ask, but trailed off when I realized what he meant. There must be a tracking device somewhere in or on the car. How hadn’t he found it? Trackers were small though, right? They could be missed.

  I sucked in a deep breath, curling my fingers around the edge of the seat. ”What do we do?”

  “Eliminate the target.”

  “Eliminate? How?”

  He glanced in the mirror again. ”Hold on and do exactly as I say.”

  X slammed on the brakes and I was thrown forward, my hands shooting out and bracing against the dash as the tires squealed. A horrible burnt rubber smell invaded the interior and I screwed up my nose. X wrenched the wheel to the side, sending the car sliding to the left and the tail car shot past us. Then he slammed his foot onto the accelerator and I was thrown back into my seat as we shot forward again.

  Holy fucking shit on a fucking stick… I gasped for air, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

  X pulled out his gun, driving one handed as we gained on the other car. I had no bloody idea what he planned to do, but if he could drive like that it had to be good.

  The other car seemed to slow, and seconds later we were side by side. My eyes widened as I saw a man in the passenger seat aiming a gun right at us.

  “Down,” X roared and I didn’t hesitate.

  I ducked low as the window shattered, the bullet passing straight through the car. X swerved and smashed into the car beside us, locking the two vehicles together. Dropping his gun into his lap, he grabbed the man’s arm and smashed it against the jagged glass that was still stuck in the window. The gunman let out a roar of pain and jerked his arm back, his grip still tight on his gun. The other driver slammed on the brakes and they flew backwards, the two cars separating. X grasped the wheel and righted our trajectory before we could fishtail and roll.

  Fuck. I was a useless fucking lump. Fucking useless…. The rear windscreen cracked and shattered with a loud bang and I screamed, covering my head with my arms.

  “You need to drive,” X said ignoring me and glancing in the rearview mirror.

  “What?” No. How...

  There was another loud crack as a bullet hit the back of the car and I held my head in my hands. Fuck...

  “Now!” X roared and it was enough to whiplash me back into reality.

  I unfastened my seatbelt and unclipped his, hoping to fucking god that I could keep the car going in a straight line. X pushed his hips up from the seat and I slid my leg over the center console, jamming my foot on the accelerator. X moved over me as I climbed underneath and the car swerved as I grabbed the wheel. Cursing, I straightened us up and focused on the road ahead.

  X brandished his gun and rolled down the passenger window.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I exclaimed, glancing wildly at him, and at the road ahead.

  “Hold the car steady,” he barked. “Even if they come at you, hold it straight and true.”

  I bit my bottom lip and nodded, focusing on the road ahead. My heart was in my throat, my palms sweaty as all fuck. Straight and true.

  X twisted around, sliding half out of the window, facing back towards the car behind. He braced himself against the frame, his boot anchored underneath the seat, the other on the armrest along the door. What the fuck...

  The car behind slammed into the rear of our sedan and I was pitched forward, my grip slipping. We swerved right, the front wheel flying through gravel, before I righted us back onto the bitumen.

  X was still hanging on, his foot hooked underneath the front seat. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but a split second later, I heard his gun go off. Once, twice, three times.

  There was a squeal of tires from behind and I glanced wildly in the mirror. The black car was slowing, smoke billowing from someplace I couldn’t pinpoint, then it banked sharply to the right, the front dipping low. The rear rose like it was in slow motion and the entire thing flipped into the air. I gasped, my jaw dropping as it did a total three-sixty and rolled again and again.

  X slid back into the car. “Pull up ahead,” he commanded, checking the rounds he had left in his gun.

  “What the fuck?” I exclaimed, pressing my foot gently on the brake until we came to a stop a few hundred meters up the road.

  My entire body was shaking with adrenalin. Glancing back through the broken window, the other car had come to rest on its roof. It was twisted beyond recognition, a useless steaming lump of metal. There was no way anyone survived that.

  I knew X was badass, but wrecking a car in spectacular fashion with just a motherfucking handgun? Oh my fucking god.

  He wrenched open the door and stood out on the
dark road, watching the wreck behind us, his gun at the ready. Nothing moved for the longest time and I wasn’t sure if I should get out or not.

  Was he waiting to see if they were dead? If someone jumped out of the twisted metal, guns blazing? I’m sure he was, but that was the stuff movies were made of right? This was real life and things happened differently, didn’t they? I wasn’t so sure that was true after seeing what X had just done with three tiny bullets.

  Getting out, I pulled out my gun and clicked the safety off. I could do this.

  “You don’t have to come,” X said, eyeing the weapon in my hand.

  “No,” I said boldly. “I want to see.”

  X narrowed his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

  He strode off towards the wreckage, obviously satisfied that nothing was moving and I followed behind, watching for the unexpected.

  The car was smoking from under the bonnet and if it wasn’t already on fire, it was about to be. If the men inside weren’t already dead, then they were going to be barbecued alive. I shuddered at the thought and tightened my grip on my gun. Color, beauty... I’d wanted it once, but the only color I was getting these days were shades of red and orange. Blood and fire.

  I jumped as the car door closest to us pushed open and one of the men began dragging himself clear of the car. His clothing was torn and wet with blood, red smeared all over his face. He was totally fucked up to the extreme. He needed an ambulance, but that was the furthest thing from my mind. He was the bad guy…but wasn’t that what we were?

  He rolled onto his back, gasping for breath and groaned as he caught sight of us standing on the road watching him. He began coughing, holding his side, grimacing through the pain that was ripping through his body.

  X stepped forward and knelt beside him, his gun dangling in his hand.

  “Who do you work for?” he snarled at the man.

  He began to laugh, blood oozing from his mouth. I didn’t have to be a fucking rocket scientist to understand that his life was rounded down to minutes. He wasn’t going to betray his boss, whoever that might be. He had nothing to lose. At least I was smart enough to get that.