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BLOOD RETRIBUTION

Page 6

by Blake Hudson


  “I am sure Mac knew what he was signing up for, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be doing it for free. Your offers have been turned down for a reason, what’s your new offer?” Knox coolly looked at Carter.

  Carter took a moment looking over the NEST, turning back to face Knox, Carter nodded.

  “Okay Knox, what is your price?” Carter said with a stare that could cut glass.

  “Your last offer to my broker, double it and you have a deal.” Knox had no idea what that offer was, or if Dani had turned it down not because of the money but the job its self. In truth, Knox was getting more cut up thinking about his brother Mac, and if the money wasn’t the best it will do until he gets the job done and he can move on.

  “God damn, it Knox, double?” Carter looked away. And just as Knox was about to speak Carter beat him to it.

  “Okay, you have a deal.” Carter agreed in a slightly beaten way. He then made a call.

  “Captain, he is in. Bring his bike around. Clean up his apartment, and sort his shit out.”

  “Bring my bike around? Sort my apartment?” Knox looked puzzled.

  “Well if I am paying you double you are starting right away. Welcome on board Captain.” Carter held out his hand to which Knox shook it, wondering what he had gotten himself into and more worrying yet… what was Dani going to say?

  “Right Captain, you have no time to meet the team or have a briefing.”

  “I don’t?” Knox questioned.

  “Well, you have got an appointment to keep, after all,” Carter said with a slight smirk.

  “You know about...” Knox paused and looked back at all the surveillance equipment in the NEST. Then he turned back to Carter and said,

  Of course, you do…

  Chapter Five

  Diablo & Son

  Twenty-five minutes later, Knox rumbled along a fast but dull stretch of A-7 between Velez Malaga and Torrox a coast line motorway. Cutting through the hill side fruit plantations and villas now mostly owned by expats enjoying sea views and Mediterranean life. Knox travelled at a pace, sitting between eighty and ninety, the sound of the Triumphs exhaust notes in its sweet spot. Riding on auto pilot his mind was occupied, not on the meeting he was close to being late for, but on Dani, T.I.7 and the job he just took on.

  Pulling off at the next junction the Triumphs exhaust note roared and popped as Knox slipped down the gears using the engine to brake as much as his right foot pushed down on the pedal. Reaching the traffic island at the base of the slip road, Knox shot across an oncoming vehicle. The startled face of the dirty looking Spaniard in a pickup truck loaded with crates, a testament to how close a call it was.

  Banking hard around the island, the scrapping of foot pegs told Knox to stop, he was on the limit. As Knox and the bike levelled out the hard-effortless acceleration lifted the front wheel slightly, Knox hankered down ready for what lay ahead of him, the mountain road ascent.

  Taking the twists and turns steady, Knox eased back and enjoyed the views up at the mountain range of the Parque Natural Sierras de Tejeda. As the road aggressively rose meter by meter, he found more road barriers snaking around hairpins. The metal is all that separated Knox from the perilous drops into the gorge. It was then, on a short two-hundred meter straight that cut through rugged rock, it happened.

  Repeated sounding of a car's horn shrieked its banshee discord in Knox’s ears. A low, almost florescent green, Lamborghini Spyder with its roof down, tore past. She cut defiantly across his front wheel and pulled away, the sexy boom and rasp of the quartet exhausts echoing back from the rock face which bordered the road.

  It was Isabella Pérez, Knox now knew her name. A large tight-lipped smile crossed Knox’s face as he watched the back end of the Italian bull pull away. Dropping down two gears and rolling his wrist back, taking a firm grip of the bars, Knox went after her. 45, 60, 75, and he still wasn’t gaining but she wasn’t pulling away. Christ, she knew how to drive Knox thought to himself. Knox adjusted himself on the bike and took to the challenge. The building whine of machinery on the brink of torment tore at his eardrums. Knox dragged out every available horse power from the Triumph inline twin. Hard acceleration only matched by the eye tugging braking before each turn.

  He was gaining, 50 meters, 40, 25! Now he could just see her glamour screaming sunglasses in her rear mirror. The good road was running out. One of those exclamation marks that the Spanish use to denote danger flashed by on his right, followed by a red triangle with a lightning bolt shape arrow telling you the road ahead was very twisty.

  This was perfect for Knox. The bike carried more speed through the hairpins and bends. Around the next turn, the road declined slightly, there was a church spire, a tight cluster of white houses of a small village nestled on the hillside almost defying physics. They shot past another road sign for an S-bend. Both slowed down 80, 50, 30.

  Knox watched her tail-lights briefly blaze, he saw her right-hand flicking down on the paddles, almost simultaneously with his left foot changing down. Then they were in the S-bend, he had to brake as he enviously watched the way her four-wheel traction side drifted around the bend. Knox’s body hung off the side of the machine, his knee almost touched the road surface as the back wheel hopped and skittered. He held on with gritted teeth, taking the British engineered motorcycle to its limits.

  Isabella slowed to a parade like speed through the village, loving the attention she was receiving. Knox slowed, seeing it as ungentlemanly to overtake now. With a brief wave of her hand as she smiled and dropped her glasses, their eyes met in the rear mirror. Hankering down for a split-second before the Italian bull found traction, it rocketed up the long straight rise at a blistering pace out of the village.

  Knox had lost fifty or so meters, the race was back on. Knox gained a little on the bends but losing it all to the straights, he had to concede to her nerveless driving. Now Knox wondered about her destination and debated with himself whether he should forget about the meeting and hold back.

  That decision was taken out of his hands, as two bikers on black and orange KTM Super Dukes pulled off a side slip as if they were waiting for the Lambo to pass. They were not looking back so they didn’t take notice of Knox coming up behind them. Their V-twins snarled as they took an aggressive approach behind the super car.

  Knox instantly knew they were not weekend bikers out for a ride.

  The two riders had what at first looked like small black bags at their sides. But all became clear when the lead rider took his hand off the handlebars and picked up not a bag, but a CZ Scorpion Machine gun.

  “Shit!” Knox barked.

  Riding in hard and too fast into the next bend, Knox cut across the tail rider. Hitting his brakes hard he forced the rider to lose control and the KTM dropped onto its side. The rider fell away from the bike and slid hard into the metal crash barriers. Knox looked ahead. He had lost ground on the lead rider. Thankfully the Lambo was clear out of sight. With dogged determination, Knox hunted down the now lone Duke.

  The rider had noticed he had lost his partner. Looking over his shoulder at every opportunity. Spooked by Knox gaining he let out a short burst of gun fire towards him. Bullets ricocheted off the road surface and rocks. They missed Knox as he narrowly weaved and accelerated through the fire. Knox unhooked a thick chain wrapped around the underside of this seat. He had one chance to take out the rider, as he was more than out matched with a damn machine gun blasting away at him.

  Riding up alongside the rider, Knox spun the chain like a lasso, and with a well-timed throw launched the chain into the workings of the KTM’s chain and rear wheel. It locked up instantly, the bike flipped the rider over the handlebars and off the cliff edge swiftly followed by his machine.

  Knox slowed and pulled over close to the roads edge and took stock. He then watched the motorcycle roll end over end and down the sheer drop. There was no sign of the rider. Knox’s ears pricked to the sound of revving followed by exhaust blips and pops
. Ones, which could be heard up the mountain road in the distance, meaning Isabella was away.

  Leaving what he hoped was the danger behind, he pulled onto a white stone gravel entrance. A large green solid metal gate with gold deadly spear, Arundel finials running along the top, closed off the drive way. Flanked by 9-foot-high white rendered walls with ornate terracotta tiles and two motorised CCTV cameras bold as brass covering every angle. Well, it looked like someone certainly liked their privacy.

  Knox had no idea what the property was like on the other side of the gate, grand and extravagant most probably. The details for the job of watching who he now knew was Isabella was done right here on the stones. Knox was sure who he’d spoken to was a middle man of a middle man. He didn’t like to do his business this way and not knowing the name of the person you are charged with protecting was not a normal way to do thing. But the money was too good to say no to, and he had a feeling he would have to prove himself to gain their trust. Clearly, Isabella and his employers were very high profile.

  Knox checked his time piece. He had a few minutes to spare, shaking his head in disbelief, he reached for his Marlborough’s. And just as he was about to strike a light, the cameras moved into position, like he knew they would. They locked in on him and the sound of steel cogs rolled on a tooth rail, as the gate opened.

  “Please enter Mr Knox. Ride up to the garage and wait with your motorcycle. I will meet you there and give you further instruction, thank you.” A voice sounded out over a crackling speaker. Knox looked up at the cameras and nodded as he fired up the 1200cc engine and rode up the sweeping long drive. Pulling up to a six-door garage, one door started to roll up. Standing behind the lifting door stood a short silver haired Spanish man, smartly dressed in white. He pointed to the centre of the garage and Knox pulled in.

  “Thank you, Mr Knox. My name is, Juan, I am Mr Pérez’s Butler, El Jefe likes all vehicles to be hidden…” Juan paused and pointed up.

  “The sky has eyes.”

  “Good to meet you, Juan, you don’t do tune ups by any chance?” Knox smirked as he looked over to the array of tools and equipment.

  “Come, Señor, this way. El Jefe is waiting” Juan smiled as he ushered Knox to the door. El Jefe meant The Boss.

  Knox walked out onto a large sun terrace with an infinity pool making the most of the far-reaching views, all the way down to the sea. A million euros added to the property value from that view alone.

  Juan pointed to the far end of the terrace where a large wood frame pergola stood. Thick vines blooming with flowers cast a welcome cover from the hot Spanish sun and under it sat alone man in a linen suit reading on an iPad. A small black coffee with a brandy on the side was his only company.

  “Welcome Mr Knox, please join me and take a seat. Would you like any refreshments? A cold drink, coffee or maybe something stronger perhaps?” The man placed his device down as he welcomed Knox, motioning him to sit. Knox sat and the second he did, he could see that the man wasn’t alone like he first thought. In fact, he had two well-dressed armed personal body guards stood in the shadows to the left and right of him.

  “Ay, a coffee with milk would be grand, thank you," Knox said looking over his surroundings.

  “Mr Knox, I am Marco Pérez, you may or may not know who I am. But I know who you are and it seems that I am humbly in your debt.” Knox didn’t say anything, as he wanted to see what this guy knew first. It was always easier to win the game when everyone’s hands were on the table before his own.

  “It has come to my attention that you were hired by my son in-law to watch over my greatest achievement, my precious daughter Isabella,” Pérez said as he gave a look to Juan who slipped away.

  “She is your daughter? You will forgive me for asking, but you seem to have all the help you need…” Knox nodded to the two shadow guards before continuing.

  “Which doesn’t make sense seeing as I have been watching your daughter for weeks now and I haven’t seen any protection like you have here," Knox said just as Juan returned with a coffee.

  “Thank you, Juan.” Said Knox as he looked to Juan.

  Pérez nodded again to Juan, who then picked up an ornately carved box off the table Pérez and Knox were sat at. Sliding the top panel open to reveal perfectly presented Davidoff cigars and cigarettes. Knox smiled, and Pérez grinned.

  “Please Lucas… may I call you Lucas?” Knox nodded.

  “Help yourself.” Pérez clicked his fingers and Juan held the box in front of Knox and then picked up a large silver cube lighter with a depiction of a Matador confronting a formidable bull skilfully engraved upon it.

  “My lungs will feel spoilt. How will I ever go back to my cheap smokes? But let’s not worry about that now, you have good taste.” Knox said before he picked up a cigarette, which Juan lit as soon as Knox was ready.

  “Good, good. If you are going to kill yourself slowly, do it with the very best, no?... After we have negotiated Lucas maybe these will become more… how shall I put it? Your regular brand eh?” Pérez said before he took a cigar from the box, cut and lit it himself. He took three fast inhales then one long deep drag before taking a moment to enjoy the fine aroma in the plume of smoke.

  Knox thought for a moment as he took a sip of his coffee which was as smooth and luxurious tasting as the Davidoff between his fingers.

  “Isabella, she’s as strong willed as me but as stubborn as her mother, God rest her soul. She will not have bodyguards, she point-blank refuses. Men I assign to her, she gives the slip or makes their jobs impossible by putting herself in dangerous situations. Not surprising then that they quit…She kneed one in the cahonis, nearly landed me a law suit in my lap…Wilful women eh?" Pérez said shaking his head with a chuckle.

  “I can believe it, she certainly knows how to push that Lamborghini to the limits it was engineered for," Knox said almost feeling sorry for the guy. I mean hell, he dreaded to think what she had been like as a teenager!

  “I am a man with many enemies Lucas in business and in life. It is impossible to have what I have without doing so. It has always been a strong possibility my Isabella would be drawn in and used against me. And now it would seem that fear is coming true.” Pérez stood up and turned to look out at the hot hazel draped view over the sun scorched terraced hill sides, straight down to the turquoise ocean.

  “I am in your debt Lucas, you stopped her kidnapping, and un-doubtable the same again in that blasted club she insists on going to. I lost her mother Lucas, I cannot lose her too. If anything were to happen to her… I just… I…” Pérez took a deep breath and composed himself.

  “Well I think I should tell you now, whoever is interested in your daughter Senor Pérez, they are stepping up a gear. I intercepted two men on motorcycles waiting for Isabella as she drove passed no doubt heading here. I was in the right place at the right time.” Knox finished his coffee and stood as he extinguished his cigarette butt.

  “Two men? On motorcycles you say? What…! Juan, Juan my phone.” Pérez face and body language turned to pent up anger. Juan rushed over with a phone already dialled. Pérez nodded a thank you to Juan.

  What came next was a rapped blast of Spanish that Knox found impossible to follow. Only picking up the odd word… ‘worry’, ‘stupid’, ‘car’, ‘not telling’…shit like that. His tone went from aggressive too soft and tender in an instant. And with a few almost whispered words he hung up then turned to Knox.

  “Walk with me Knox, I want you to tell me everything," Pérez said before he started to walk along the terrace. His guards moved from the shade, ready to follow at a distance, well trained, so as not to overhear.

  “My daughter is a great concern to me. She has her own issues, and reasons for why she won’t listen. And I have spoilt her, so the fault is mine, I know this.”

  “She was lucky, this wasn’t the same as the clowns at the beach. The men at the club, the bikers just now, they are packing some real fire power. I don’t
know what their plan was, but it wasn’t going to be pretty.” Knox told him, being brutally honest as he needed it. Pérez winced, no doubt thinking about the horror of what could have happened.

  “I can help you, I have worked with women like your daughter before in private security. You may not like my methods, but they work.” Knox was blunt and to the point. Pérez looked over him with intrigue when hearing the term ‘His methods’.

  “Where are the men now? And if your methods work maybe it is what she needs. I have tried and failed but she still needs to be kept safe.” Pérez said looking thoughtful.

  “One ended up kissing a crash barrier at speed, and the other took a cliff dive off the edge along with his bike. No witnesses but I am sure it’s being investigated by the local police, if not the Guardia Civil. But don’t worry, shouldn’t be any ties to me, you or your daughter.” Knox reassured with a glint in his eye.

  “Don’t worry about the Police, I will make all that go away if there is a link to you, it will not be for long. I have…” Pérez stopped mid flow as his eye was drawn away. Knox turned to see what had distracted him.

 

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