by Asher, Adele
“No chance.”
I felt the sharp thud of pain as Roy hit me over the back of the head with his pistol, then I blacked out.
Chapter 22
I WOKE up to find myself laid face-down across the back seat of the G-Wagen, my hands and feet were bound and I had a splitting pain across the back of my head where Roy had brutally knocked me unconscious. I tried to focus as my vision blurred into reality. It was night and we were on the motorway. Roy was driving and whistling to some music on the radio.
Careful to avoid him spotting me in the rear mirror I slowly moved behind him before quickly raising my bound hands over the top of his head and pulling them sharply back on his neck to strangle him against the headrest. Roy gagged and swerved across the three lanes of the Autobahn causing two cars he was overtaking to crash into each other to avoid the G-Wagen as we careered across the carriageway.
“Stop the fucking car Roy!” I shouted pulling back on his throat throttling him as hard as I could.
Roy sawed violently at the steering wheel from left to right trying to shake me loose but I hung on for grim life. Finally he slammed the brakes fully on. The large AMG discs arrested the two-ton SUV bringing it to a smoking halt in the middle of the carriageway. Without a seatbelt on the negative G-force slammed me forwards, I lost my grip on Roy and catapulted towards the windscreen banging my head on the dashboard as the car came to a halt. Roy gasping for air grabbed me roughly by the hair and pulled my head backwards. I did my best to fight him off before he punched me twice in the face causing my nose to explode painfully in a pool of blood. I yelped in pain before he threw me back into the rear seat. Infuriated he took out a pistol and pointed it at me.
“Sit down and behave yourself or you will get hurt!” he growled at me angrily in his native provincial accent having lost all trace of his fake Etonian tone.
I looked at him scornfully as cars careered past us horns screaming. He pulled over angrily to the hard shoulder and got out then opened the rear door and dragged me out onto the carriageway by my hair. I kicked and thumped at him trying to free myself from his hold.
A passing van driver clearly concerned by this apparent scene of motorised domestic violence pulled in behind us and two beefy builders got out and ran over to assist shouting at Roy in German.
“Fuck off back into your van! This is none of your business!” he barked at them.
“Leave the girl alone!” one of them replied in heavily German accented English.
“Please help me!” I shouted at them. “He’s a mad rapist! He’s kidnapped me and is going to rape and murder me!”
Roy backslapped me to the ground.
“Shut up bitch!” he shouted at me irking the Germans even further.
“Hey man! Don’t hit her like that! Let her go!” they protested as they ran at him to restrain him.
Roy pointed his pistol at them and shot them each twice. I tried to compose myself. Despite the pain I refused to give him the satisfaction of crying but couldn’t stop the tears already rolling down my cheeks.
“You see the trouble you’ve caused? You’re always causing trouble! I should just get rid of you now,” he said seething with rage as he pointed the pistol at me and cocked it angrily.
I defiantly wiped the blood streaming from my nose and scornfully looked at him.
“But then you won’t get your fucking money will you Roy?”
The mention of payment seemed to calm his mood and focus his attention on his goal.
“Get in the fucking car! You try this shit again and I’m going to fuck you up properly!” he told me.
I pulled myself up and hobbled back and got into the car. Roy slammed the door shut and got back then accelerated away furiously slamming his hand against the steering wheel with frustration.
“Why do you have to be like this?” he spat.
His face was now red with rage.
“You bloody started it!” I protested.
“You are spoilt! You want working on!”
“You’re a thief Roy. That’s all you are, a simple petty thief.”
“Oh I don’t think so! I’m more than that! I’m going places!” He cackled manically.
“The crematorium or a three-foot shallow grave in a remote woodland by the time the Russians get you.”
“I don’t think so luv!”
“There are no guns. You know that don’t you? They’re setting you up. You killed one of their guys and this whole thing is a setup to get you.”
“Bollocks,” he spat.
“Think about it Roy. This whole stupid plan you have to blow up freighters and make billions. Exactly what do they need you for? It’s bullshit. It’s all bullshit. You killed their guy. They are setting you up. That’s the truth.”
Roy’s anger and fury dissipated into paranoia.
“Yeah? Then why is your man after me as well? Why do MI6 want me eh?”
“Because you whacked one of their guys too. You’ve got nowhere to run Roy. Everyone is after you. You are fucked.”
“I don’t think so! I’ve got money. Your money. I’m going to South America. They wont find me.”
“They’ll find you wherever you go.”
“Anyways they think you did it!” he laughed pleased with himself.I shook my head. “No. I told them. I told them you did it. I’m clever you see. I’m one step ahead.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Listen just shut-up right? I know what you are trying to do. It’s not going to work. You are gong to hand over the rest of the money then I’m out of here.”
“I’m not giving you any more money. They have Nick. The Russians.”
“Well boo-fucking-hoo for him.”
“Why did you do all this Roy? Roy Jones from Luton. What on earth possessed you to start playing at being an international espionage agent and go around whacking spies? Have you any idea the shit you have got yourself into?”
“It’s a game isn’t it? That’s all they do play a game. I met this guy right, Van Sant. I was contracting in Iraq fixing electrics on oil rigs. He was in this bar. Drunk he was. Mouthing off how he was this big man. Pretty birds, money and all that shit. I went back to his place. He had this list. Being paid a million a pop to do these geezers in. I thought I could have a bit of that. So I did him in. Took his place.”
“And it’s really worked out well for you…”
“Listen right, if I hadn’t have done all this I would still be in Luton putting up light fittings for fifty quid a day. I’m sorted love. You don’t need to worry yourself about that. Anyway you fell for it. Doesn’t say much for you does it eh little Miss Chelsea?”
“So what are you going to do now then?”
“You hand over the money and I’m gone. I’ll let you live. You don’t hand over the money I’m going to take what’s left of your four million back there and I’m still gone. It’s up to you. Fuck the Russians mate.”
“If I give you the money they will kill Nick. I’d rather die than live without him so go to hell. I’m not giving you a penny more.”
“Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
“What’s he got? What’s he got that I haven’t got eh?”
“Everything.”
“Well he hasn’t got four million has he? So he’s still fucked.” Roy sneered.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Geneva.”
“Why?”
“I left Charlotte there.”
“That figures…”
“What?”
“She’s just about dumb enough and blonde enough to fall for your bullshit even when the truth is staring her in the face.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Everything.”
“Well it doesn’t mean nothing. She’s a good girl is Charlotte. Not like you.”
“What do you mean not like me?”
“You’re one of those birds that thinks you are above everyone else. Think you’re special.
Blokes like me aren’t good enough for you. You’re shallow, you just want some rich prick who owns half of Norfolk.”
“Bullshit.”
“Really? I know your sort, I see you every day in your Bentleys and your fancy shoes. Thinking you are all that.”
“Ironic. That’s exactly the sort of girl Charlotte is.”
“No she ain’t! She’s different. That’s why she was with that rapper. Thanks for that by the way, I knew you and me had no future so I needed him out the way.”
“And do you think if you didn’t have my money she would still be interested in you?”
“Course she would.”
“Bullshit. I have known Lottie a lot longer than you have and I can tell you straight she’s a one-woman gold-digging franchise. Without your money you are nothing to her. Just some bum sparky from a shit provincial town.”
“Shut it! You are just jealous.”
“I promise you I’m so not jealous. I think you make a lovely couple. I wish you a lifetime of perfect unhappiness together, but you can do it without my money.”
“And what’s so special about your spy? You always had a thing for those sorts though didn’t you? That’s what made you so easy to play.”
“He’s a real man. Not someone pretending to be one.”
“And where is he now eh? You all beat up at the back of the bus and he’s nowhere to be seen. Real Man? He’ll be a real corpse pretty soon.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Just shut it. I’m sick of listening to your bullshit, I put up with listening to your bullshit for years. Nag nag nag nag nag. That’s all you fucking do.”
I declined to share the information with Roy that the Russians were expecting me in Geneva. He was clearly planning to dispose of me and make good his escape with Charlotte. At the very least I reckoned the Russians would bring some much-needed chaos to upset his plan and allow me some leverage to get out of this situation.
With my nose and face throbbing with pain after the beating the vile Roy had inflicted on me I tried to find a comfortable spot in the back of the car - furious at myself for allowing him to get away in Zurich and putting me in this position.
We arrived back at the house in the early hours of the morning. Roy opened the door and roughly dragged me out of the car and into the house where Charlotte was waiting.
“Hello Charlotte,” I reluctantly greeted her.
The shock on her face confirmed the fact my beaten face looked as bad as it felt.
“What the hell happened to you?” she said.
“Your boyfriend, he’s not exactly a gentleman. Are you Roy?”
“Shut it you slag! Get in the house the pair of you.”
“What the hell have you done to her?” protested Charlotte. “You said you wouldn’t hurt her!”
“Pipe down bitch or you’ll get a taste of the same.”
“Go to hell!” Charlotte replied angrily but was met with a silencing backhand slap from Roy.
“I said shut it. I don’t want any more lip out of either of you. You bitches is proper doing my head in. now get in the fucking house!”
“He’s a real charmer isn’t he?” I said to Charlotte who was ashen-faced at Roy’s sudden reversion to his thuggish ill-educated and ill-mannered real self.
“Right you, I’m going to give you until lunchtime to reconsider your position. If you aren’t forthcoming with the cash before the banks close I’m going to cut you up,” he said.
“Go fuck yourself Roy,” I replied refusing to be intimidated by a manual labourer from a North London factory town.
Roy slapped me again.
“Stop it!” Charlotte protested and he hit her to the ground.
“Leave her alone Roy!” I told him.
“Are you going to give up the money?”
“No I’m not.”
“Then keep it zipped. I’ve nothing more to say to you.”
Roy dragged me up to the master bedroom and onto the bed. I struggled as he tied me to the bedstead railings fearful he would force himself on me.
“Don’t worry love,” he sneered. “You don’t do anything for me. Not with a face like that.”
I spat at him. He wiped it off his face with a smirk and left locking the bedroom door.
I did my best to get loose but Roy had bound my hands too tightly. There was nothing else I could do but wait for the Russians to arrive and hope they dispatched Roy before he could get to me or get away with the money.
Several hours past and with my whole body aching with pain I dozed off into a light nap. I had already formulated my last stand plan if Roy returned at noon. I wasn’t going to hand over the money under any circumstances so if I was going to die today I was certainly going to take the bastard with me.
I was surprised to be woken just before lunch not by Roy but by Charlotte untying my hands.
“The Russians are here,” she told me nervously. “I’m sorry, I should have listened to you,” she sobbed.
“I did try and warn you. Where’s Roy?”
“Who?”
“Johnny. His name is Roy. I’ve told you that more than three times Charlotte. Christ on a bike stop being so blonde and get with the program!”
“Oh! He is downstairs. What are we going to do?” she asked me.
I untied my bound feet and got up and went across to the window that overlooked the front of the house. Out front were four GL’s parked up with a whole army of Russian suited gangsters. Anatoly had clearly learnt his lesson from our previous encounters and sent the bloody lot.
“Lock the door,” I told Charlotte.
“Shouldn’t we try and get out of here?”
“There’s too many of them,” I told her.
Charlotte ran over and locked the bedroom door.
“That will slow them down but how are we going to get out?”
I walked across to the bed and checked the C4 was still in place I had planted on our first visit. Thankful it still was I picked up the cordless phone handset from next to the bed.
There was a hammering at the front door. Roy clearly was refusing to answer so I went back to the window and watched as the Russians produced a battering ram and proceeded to knock it down. There was a sudden knocking on the bedroom door.
“Open the door!” said a panic stricken Roy. “Charlotte! Stop messing about! The Russians are here, open the fucking door!” he said, his voice trembling with fear.
Roy started barging at the door.
“Bugger off Johnny! Or Roy or whoever the fuck you are!” Charlotte shouted at him.
“Charlotte open the bloody door! I’ll split the money with you!”
“Go to hell! Better still go back to Luton where you belong you bloody chav scum!” she responded.
Roy battered the door harder.
“If you don’t open the door I’m going to kick it in and kill the pair of you!”
“Get in the bathroom quickly,” I told Charlotte.
She ran into the en-suite and I followed her in and locked the door behind us.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Get in the bathtub,” I replied.
“Why?” she asked with a frown.
“Just get in the bathtub. It’s cast iron. It will protect us from the blast.”
“What blast?”
“Charlotte just get in the bloody bathtub! I don’t have time to explain!”
Reluctantly Charlotte got in the bathtub. I heard the door give way. Roy started hammering on the bathroom door.
“Open the bloody door!”
“Piss off Roy!”
“You bloody called the Russians didn’t you!”
“Yes sorry about that. Must have slipped my memory while you were beating the shit out of me. Do give them my regards,” I replied politely.
“You bitch!”
Roy went quiet then the shooting started followed by the sound of broken glass that I could only guess was Roy jumping out of the first floor bedroom window in
his desperation to escape. There was some shouting in Russian then it went quiet again. Footsteps approached the bathroom door. The doorknob turned but the locked door didn’t open. There was a banging on the door.
“Open the door,” came the request in thick Russian accented English.
“I’m in the bath. Can you come back in a hour?” I replied.
“I give you ten seconds to open the door then we break it down. Put on clothes. Or not. It is your choice.”
I went and got in the bath with Charlotte. The ten seconds passed.
“Time is finished. You going to open door?”
“Still in the bath,” I told him.
“We not have time for games. You going to get out of the bath?”
“It’s a nice bath. I’m enjoying it. It really would be better if you came back later. Did you make an appointment?”
“Appointment?”
“It does say on the front gate. No callers without an appointment.”
“Your husband let us in.”
“He’s not my husband.”
“Who he is?”
“Oh that’s Roy. He’s an electrician from Luton.”
“Where is Luton?”
“It’s a shitty little place outside of London.”
“Like airport? He live at airport? No more this nonsense! I not care who Roy is.”
“You should care. You work for Anatoly?”
“Da. We work for Anatoly.”
“So you came for the money?”
“Da. we have come for money.”
“Do you have Nick with you?”
“Who Nick is?”
“English guy. Very handsome.”
“No. We have no English handsome Nick here. We just come for money.”
“If you don’t have Nick you aren’t getting the money. I suggest you come back when you have him. That was the deal.”
“I know nothing of English handsome Nick deals. I want only money.”
“You really should go after Roy. Anatoly wants him dead.”
“I not go after Roy from Luton Airport. I not have English Handsome Nick. I want only money. Now open door.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s much safer in the bath.”
“From what is safer in bath?”
“You’ll see…”
I dialled the number on the phone and pressed the hashtag to detonate the explosives. The noise was deafening as the entire house shook to its foundations. The bathroom door blew inwards across the room filling the entire bathroom with smoke and debris, plaster showered from the ceiling on top of us as the C4 blew the entire bedroom to dust and all of its occupants.