The International Assassin: A Sexy Times Crime Thriller

by Asher, Adele

  Nick had managed to secure me a fake replacement passport within the time it had taken to get me out of Hackney. While I liked the idea of being Mrs. Salinger being married without the benefit of a lavish wedding felt much less agreeable.

  “We have a lake view suite for you. Champagne is on ice in your room as per your instructions and lunch will be served to your room at one p.m,” the receptionist said as he passed the papers for Nick to sign.

  Nick handed over a platinum credit card that was probably a fake and took money from some unsuspecting Sheikh’s offshore account before he passed the forms back to the receptionist who clicked his fingers for a porter to collect our luggage.

  “Ralph will show you to your suite. Your butler is on call twenty-four hours a day. If you require anything else the concierge is at your service. Enjoy your stay at the Geneva Metropole,” the receptionist said handing us our keycards.

  We followed the porter to the large classic suite. Nick tipped him and he left. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the bed thankful to be able to finally stretch out after fourteen hours in the car. Nick started prowling around the room looking behind pictures and under the bed.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked. “The minibar is over there,” I said pointing at the ornate cabinet by the TV that obviously hid the cachet of alcoholic entertainment. Of course I knew he was sweeping the room for bugs and other such spy-ware. Satisfied our room was free of electronic surveillance he attacked the Champagne bottle and brought me a charged glass.

  “Well Mister Salinger, this must be our honeymoon, although I don’t recall attending the wedding,” I said toasting his glass with mine.

  “Ah that, it’s simpler. Less questions. Paperwork. I hate paperwork,” Nick replied.

  “I don’t mind. I quite like being Mrs. Salinger,” I told him with a teasing smile pulling him down to me on the bed for an embracing kiss.

  “You should get some rest. Busy night ahead,” he told me after we finished playing tonsil hockey with our tongues.

  “Of course. There’s Roy to deal with,” I replied with annoyance, remembering our sojourn to Switzerland wasn’t entirely pleasure.

  “I want to go over to the house, take a look around.”

  “Do we have to? Can’t we just go and kick the door in tie him up and torture him with electricity?”

  “We should check the place out first.”

  “Okay boss.” I sighed with reluctant agreement. “I’m going to take a shower before lunch and you are going to join me and scrub my back.”

  “Okay then,” he replied.

  The lunch arrived at exactly one with the timing accuracy you would expect of the Swiss. We enjoyed it on the terrace overlooking the lake. Nick seemed pre-occupied.

  “I would just love to know what you are thinking about,” I said as I delicately loaded a Ryvita with some Scotch salmon and salad.

  “I was just thinking if it wasn’t for the fact we were here to retrieve your trust fund from Roy, torture him horribly then kill him this would almost seem like a romantic holiday,” he replied.

  “Well there is no reason why it can’t be. Combine pleasure with pleasure.” I smiled as I polished off the Ryvita with a mouthful of Bollinger.

  “I guess not.” Nick downed his Champagne with one gulp and looked out on the lake. “We should get a boat,” he mused.

  “There is one at the house,” I told him.

  “Where is it? The house?”

  “South-west side of the lake. About seven kilometres from here.”

  “Security?”

  “Big fences, cameras, alarm system.”

  “Dogs?”

  “No dogs.”

  “Good. I can’t deal with dogs.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “We go and plant some surveillance, make sure they are there and see what Roy is up to,” he said. Nick clearly noted my displeasure at the lack of affirmative action in parting Roy from his balls. “I know you want to just exact your revenge on him but that’s not going to get your money back is it?”

  “It’ll make me feel better.”

  “Patience…”

  I finished lunch, took a shower and went to bed for the afternoon. While Nick wanted to be professional and do things by the book I had other ideas and plotted my assault on Roy’s domestic peace.

  Nick woke me up around nine p.m since he didn’t want to go to the house until after dark. He was already dressed in some ninja black outfit in readiness for his skulking about. We left the hotel and collected the Aston from the car park. Nick didn’t know where we were going so I drove us down the west side of the lake to where Roy was holed up in my lakeside villa with that bitch Charlotte. As we arrived Nick instructed me to park up out of sight across the road.

  “So what now?” I asked him.

  “I’m going to plant some wire taps and you are going to stay in the car and keep an eye out,” he told me as he plugged in his radio earpiece.

  “Bollocks to that!” I protested. “I’m not missing out on the fun.”

  He passed me a radio earpiece.

  “Stay here and keep a look out,” he reaffirmed.

  As he got out the car I shot him a pouting sulk that had no effect. He retrieved his bag of tricks and a machine gun from the boot. There was no way I was going to miss out on the skulking about so I got out, walked around to him and played my ace card.

  “You take me with you or we’re never having sex again,” I told him assertively.

  “You need to stay in the car.”

  “It’s my house!” I protested.

  “Stay in the car,” He said, the firmness of which was quite sexually arousing.

  “No,” I sulked.

  “Stay in the car,” he repeated losing patience.

  “No! I’m serious. I come or you don’t.”

  Sexual blackmail, the oldest trick in the book. Nick shook his head and sighed.

  “Are you going to behave yourself?” he asked.

  “Within reason…” I told him.

  Reluctantly he handed me a loaded MP5.

  “That doesn’t mean you can use it. It’s purely for self-defence. You understand what that means?”

  “Absolutely. If they give you a funny look shoot them.”

  He handed me a spare pistol and locked the car. We sprinted over to the villas perimeter wall.

  “Why don’t we just go in through the front gate? I know the code.”

  “We do this my way.”

  “Well give me a leg up then,” I said. He looked at me. “I’m not going to bloody lift you over the wall action man, I’m not a weight lifter.”

  Using Nick as a ladder I climbed up and sat on his shoulders to get a view over the wall.

  “What do you see?” he whispered.

  “A Big house. In a garden.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Bedroom light is on. All other lights are off, there’s a S Class Merc in the drive.”

  I looked down at Nick whose head was buried face first in my crotch. I smiled.

  “This would make a great sexual position. Do you think it’s in the Karma Sutra?” I said. Nick didn’t reply. “Suit yourself.” I shrugged disappointed he wasn’t going to avail himself of the amenities and provide me some pleasure while he was down there.

  I climbed up over the wall and grabbed Nick’s gun off him. He jumped up, hauled himself over then jumped down the other side and caught me as I lowered myself down. Checking our entrance had not been noticed Nick ran through the shadows to a large cable box. I ran after him, he took out a small tool kit and broke the box open.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Phone box. We’ll tap the line.”

  “What if he uses his mobile?” I asked. Nick gave me a vacant look. “And you’re in the intelligence business…” I said shaking my head with despair.

  “Do you have a better plan?” he asked me annoyed.

  “Absolutely. We go in there and we
tape him to a chair then apply a live electric cable to his scrotum until he talks.”

  “Subtle,” replied Nick sarcastically.

  “Hey! If it gets results don’t knock it. It’s better than tapping his Sky TV channels to see if he is watching porn.” I whispered back.

  “Stay here,” he told me.

  “No!” I protested.

  “Stay here!” he repeated firmer. “I’m just going to put a tracer on the car. I need you to cover me. Do you think you can do that? I’ll be all exposed out there.”

  “Aw baby you see? You do need me after all. I tell you what, I’ll stay here if you admit you were wrong and I’m an integral part of the success of your mission.”

  “No,” replied Nick petulantly.

  “Admit you need me then.”

  “Jesus Christ! Ok yes! I need you, now please cover me.”

  “Okay baby. If you go into the house without me I’m going to shoot you myself. In the arse.”

  Nick ran off crouching in the direction of the car then dropped beneath it and started tinkering about. As he got up and started running back the entire of the grounds lit up like a football stadium from the security floodlights. He quickly sprinted towards me and we took cover in some bushes.

  “You didn’t tell me the bloody lights are on sensors!” he said annoyed.

  “They aren’t. They don’t need to be. The cameras are all infra-red.”

  The front door opened and the bastard Roy and his consort bitch Charlotte emerged dressed in a dinner suit and ball gown. They headed for the Mercedes.

  “Right, let’s do the fuckers on the porch,” I told Nick cocking my gun.

  Nick put a hand on the top of the barrel and gestured me to lower it.

  “No!” he told me with a stern whisper. “We wait until they leave then we can get into the house. Let’s try and figure out where your money is first.”

  “You’re going to let them leave?”

  Nick took out his tracking PDA and activated it.

  “We know where they’ll be.”

  “Hmmph. Alright then,” I agreed reluctantly.

  I watched in frustration as Roy pulled off down the drive and departed. The gates closed and the security lights all switched off again. Without waiting for authorisation I went running across to the house. Nick ran after me.

  We reached the front door. Nick picked the lock quickly and opened it. I dashed inside and headed straight for the alarm box. I entered my pin code but it was rejected.

  “He’s changed the alarm code,” I told Nick as I tried desperately to remember the master reset code. I tried the number but it was also rejected. I looked at Nick and shrugged my shoulders as the seconds ticked by.

  “Haven’t you got some sort of spy gadget for this?”

  “No,” said Nick.

  “You are a lot of use then aren’t you?”

  I went outside and knocked the safety catch off my suppressed MP5. As the alarm bell started to sound I opened fire on the box and it fell silent. I went back inside.

  “I think he’s going to notice,” Nick said.

  “I don’t care. He shouldn’t be in my house anyway the cheeky fucker,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “I’ll check upstairs, you check downstairs. I’m guessing he will have some papers or computer with details of where my money is.”

  “You have an office or a study?”

  “First door on the right,” I said pointing at the door.

  Nick disappeared into the study and I headed upstairs to the master bedroom. The slut-whore Charlotte’s dirty knickers were all over the floor. I went over to the bed and opened my backpack and took out the block of C4 and remote detonator I had procured from Nick’s armaments stash.

  I didn’t share my plan with Nick for obvious reasons since he was more concerned with intelligence gathering than revenge. Being more of a fan of direct action I would much prefer to deal with Roy and Charlotte now and worry about the consequences and aggravation of getting my money back later. In the event that Nick was plotting to do something other than allow me my wishes I had prepared a suitable fallback option to make sure Roy and Charlotte did not escape my wrath. I cut off the detonator cords and prodded them into the C4 and dropped down under the bed. Even with the damping effects of the mattress there was enough explosives to blow up the entire room and all its occupants. I found a discrete part on the bed frame. Due to the alarm fiasco Roy would have been aware of our break-in on his return so I needed to ensure my bedroom surprise was well hidden in case he swept the house.

  I secured the explosives to the top-side of the bed frame underneath the mattress so it could not easily be seen and armed the detonator which contained a micro cellphone board and could be remotely trigged by a call to its number. The board also contained a high-powered microphone so its user could listen in to ensure the targets were in audible range before detonating its payload.

  Useful since I was planning to blow them up when they were having sex.

  Satisfied with my efforts I returned downstairs to find Nick on a laptop busy typing away. He plugged in a USB stick. I walked round to see what he was up to. On screen he had an open browser window with an Internet banking session for a bank in Luxembourg.

  “What have you found my angel?” I asked him giving him a shoulder massage.

  “Roy transferred your funds from your Swiss and Coutts accounts to this bank here. Then he’s redistributed the money to a numbered account here in Zurich…” Nick said as he pointed out the transaction details on the screen. “…and this account in Monte-Carlo.”

  “Great. So work your magic and get it back.”

  “It’s not that simple. There are account locks on. Without lifting them we’re limited on how much we can withdraw. As soon as we make a withdrawal he will get a notification to his cellphone.”

  “Which means?”

  “We either need to go in person for which we will need whatever password, security credentials and probably fingerprint ID or…”

  “Or…?”

  “We need to hold him long enough that we can draw down the account without him being able to stop it.”

  “How long will that take?”

  Nick grabbed a piece of paper and made some calculations.

  “Eleven days.”

  “Well that’s no problem. We wait for him to come back then tie him up and go to work on him.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Nick replied. He pulled up some documents from a folder on the laptop screen.

  “On behalf of his new friends he is hosting an arms deals with a Russian criminal outfit in three days. If we’re here or he isn’t here then, things are going to get messy.”

  I became quite frustrated. Abandoning Nick’s shoulders rub I stormed over and grabbed a bottle of Vodka from the drinks cabinet.

  “For Gods Sake Nicholas! How hard does this have to be!” I slugged back the Vodka. “He’s stolen my money. We now know where it is. We get whatever information we need to access it from him and then kill the fuck-urchin and his bitch. Who gives a fuck about the Russian mob and their arms deal?”

  “Because he’s using the money to front the deal. If we take it three days before he does the deal then he’s going to tell them we took it and then they are going to come after us.”

  “And if we don’t take it he’s going to spend my entire trust fund on a bunch of RPG’s and Kalashnikovs. Now I’m a fan of small arms collections but I don’t need enough to invade Zimbabwe. I’d rather spend it on shoes and handbags thank you very much.”

  Nick didn’t reply.

  “What you trying to tell me Nick? Because you are trying to tell me something, you are not exactly enthusiastic,” I said annoyed.

  “I’m on your side.”

  “It doesn’t bloody feel like it,” I told him in a harsh tone that I can only put down to the Vodka.

  “I’m trying to keep you alive,” he said softly.

  “I don’t need you to keep me alive Nick. I c
an handle that myself thank you very much. I need your help, and if you are not going to help me then why are you here? I’d rather do it by myself.”

  I could tell by his face he was hurt but unfortunately the blind rage I had got myself into at our constant inability to find a solution was overwhelming and my emotions got the better of common sense and reason. He unplugged the USB stick from the computer and got up and walked over to me and looked at me coldly.

  “Good luck,” he said without a trace of warmth then handed me the USB stick and left.

  I wanted to cry.

  After everything that had happened he was the only man in my life who I had really felt anything for - someone who had gone out of his way to help me without expectation of anything in return, but the nagging distrust I had that he was merely using me for his own espionage ends, of which I had no real understanding clouded my judgment and ability to fully believe that he was acting for my best intentions and not on MI6 state business.

  As much as I had once been excited by the clandestine world such men inhabited I longed for a normal guy who kissed me goodnight and cuddled me to sleep without any suspicion he was going to kill me in the middle of the night or disappear never to be seen again. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

  “Nick! Nick!” I called after him but he was already gone. Pride was stopping me from going after him but I realised I was already in love with him and as much as my pride wanted to get the better of me my heart wouldn’t let it. I slugged down more of the Grey Goose Vodka in a hope of stemming the intense hurt of heartbreak I was now feeling but it was no good. No amount of Vodka would make me feel less vulnerable or alone.

  Chapter 12

  FEELING DRUNK and miserable I sat down at the computer and stared at the screen. The lines of figures representing my stolen fortune and my life as I knew it. It was not the life I now wanted…a life with Nick. I hated Roy with an intensity I didn’t think possible for the anarchy he had wreaked in my life but was also aware without it there would be no Nick Salinger. Although at this moment in time the dark hurt his now lack of presence had brought into my life made me feel more vulnerable than ever.