by Rob Sinclair
Winter would be able to organise for Ryker to be armed without any problem. So his silence wasn’t because he couldn’t.
Winter let out a long sigh.
‘There’s more going on out here than I think you realise,’ Ryker said. ‘And the Red Cobra is here. I know it: I need a gun. And if you won’t get it for me, I’ll find another way.’
‘Okay, okay. I’ll find a source.’
Ryker smiled, pleased that Winter had come to the same conclusion he had: that it was preferable for the JIA to supply a weapon than for Ryker to bring further heat on himself by stealing one or finding one directly on the black market, which he’d been well prepared to do.
‘It’ll take a few hours but I’ll arrange a drop for you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Anything else?’
‘What about the leak?’
‘The cyber attack you mean?’
‘Yeah. Have you found anything else?’
‘We’re getting there.’ Winter sounded less than satisfied. ‘Whoever carried it out really knows what they’re doing. The way they’ve covered their tracks is as complex as we’ve seen. But in time we’ll crack it, I’m sure. If I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know.’
‘Same,’ Ryker said.
‘And if you see the Red Cobra, you kill her on sight. You get that? We can’t risk her escaping again. Not after what happened last time.’
Ryker said nothing, just squeezed his hands around the steering wheel. His mind took him back to the last time he’d seen her. Up on that cliff top when she’d had a gun pointed to his head. She could have killed him. She’d hesitated. Her hesitation had saved his life, and nearly cost the Red Cobra hers.
‘Ryker? You still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have I made myself clear?’ Winter said, once again wielding the position of command. ‘You see her, you kill her. Don’t even think about it.’
‘Understood,’ Ryker said.
And it was true, he understood the instruction just fine.
Whether he would actually follow it, he really couldn’t be sure.
CHAPTER 27
Moments after putting the phone down, it buzzed again. Ryker looked at the screen. It was Lisa. For a fleeting moment, he debated whether or not to answer. As much as he missed her and wanted to talk to her, his mind was becoming consumed with the investigation at hand. That was his nature. His work for the JIA hadn’t just been a job, it had been his life – something he lived and breathed twenty-four hours a day. And he could feel himself being drawn back into that mind-set, that way of living.
But as comfortable and normal as that felt for Ryker on many levels, he knew he had to resist going back to being like that. What was right was that he and Lisa stick together and be there for each other no matter what. He was all Lisa had in the world. She had no job, no friends, no family. Ryker on the other hand did have something else in his life. He had an ally in Peter Winter. And because of that, Ryker had a job. Maybe not the same job he used to have, but the JIA still needed him and apparently had no qualms about using Ryker for their shadowy operations. Winter had come knocking and Ryker had agreed to his request for help. Ryker couldn’t let that decision drive a wedge between him and Lisa.
He answered the phone. ‘Hi.’
‘Hey.’
In an instant, Ryker felt more relaxed at the familiar sound of her voice. ‘What time is it there?’
‘Early. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, we should have spoken sooner. I tried calling.’
‘I was worried about you.’
‘No need to worry. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You been for a swim?’
‘Not today. Not yet.’
There was a moment of silence, and Ryker felt awkwardness seeping back in. Was she being deliberately cagey with him or was he imagining it?
‘Have you found her yet?’ she asked.
‘No. Not yet.’
‘How long will it take?’
‘I don’t know. Days. Maybe longer.’
‘I miss you. I miss you so much.’
‘Yeah. I miss you too... I’ll be back soon.’
‘Not soon enough.’
Another silence followed. He could hear her slow and steady breathing, He wanted to tell her more, about what he was doing, where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t. And he really didn’t know what else to say to her. What did they even have to talk about? Their lives out on the run were quite unremarkable.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said. ‘I’m just about to arrive somewhere. I’ll call you again later, yeah? We can talk properly then.’
‘Of course.’ She sounded dejected. ‘Speak later.’
‘I love you.’
‘Love you too.’
Ryker ended the call and put his phone down on his lap, feeling agitated – with himself more than anything – by the stilted conversation. How could talking to the woman he loved make him feel so uncomfortable?
As Ryker neared Marbella, he did his best to push the thoughts of tension in his home life to the back of his mind. He passed by the construction site where the day before he’d been knocked unconscious by a bent policeman. And what of the two heavies who’d been sent after him? They’d vanished it seemed.
Moments later, Ryker pulled up outside the tall metal gates of the complex where Eva Kozlov lived with her father. Ryker was hoping Andrei wasn’t home. If he was, Ryker was certain he’d not get very far. Kozlov, like Walker, would hide behind his well-paid lawyer as long as he was able to. Eva on the other hand... she was hardly going to betray her father just like that, but Ryker knew she liked to play games. She had to be his best bet for getting the investigation moving.
A solitary uniformed guard sat in the wood-panelled security hut outside the gates. He came out to greet Ryker with a look of mistrust on his face. Maybe he was like that with everyone. Or maybe he was like that only with people who drove cars worth less than a hundred thousand euros.
‘I’m here to see Eva Kozlov,’ Ryker said to the guard in English. It was an assumption that the security detail on an estate where there likely wasn’t a Spanish-born resident would have at least passable English. Ryker’s assumption was confirmed when the guard spoke.
‘And you are?’
‘James Ryker.’
‘Okay, but what is your business here?’
‘I’m working with the Policia National.’
That seemed to knock the guard back a step, though the cynical look remained. ‘ID?’
Ryker reached into his jeans pocket for his passport. He showed it to the guard who looked at it sceptically.
‘I didn’t say I was a policeman,’ Ryker said, guessing that the guard was wondering why he was showing a basic passport rather than an official ID card. ‘Just that I’m working with them.’
‘Okay. Let me call through and see if there’s anyone home.’
The guard wandered back to his box-hut, sat on his swivel chair, and picked up a phone. Ryker could see the man’s lips moving as he spoke to someone on the other end but could hear none of the words.
Less than a minute later, the guard was back at Ryker’s window.
‘She’s home,’ the guard said, his voice stern. ‘And says you can come in.’
Ryker held back a wry smile. It looked like he’d been right about Eva.
‘Third house on the left,’ the guard said.
He went back to his hut and seconds later, the double metal gates silently swung open.
Ryker drove through, feeling as though he were entering another world. Everything about the estate screamed wealth. The perfectly trimmed grass verges. The spotless tarmac and pavements, with not even a hint of scuffs or scratches or chips. Trees and flowers that didn’t seem to have a leaf or a twig or a petal out of place. It was like a fantasy. And then there were the houses. And the cars. The whole estate and what it stood for seemed so far detached from the reality of life tha
t lay beyond the gated walls.
Ryker saw no one other than the occasional uniformed worker tending the estate as he drove along the road to the Kozlov’s residence. He parked his car next to two shining SUVs in the driveway then got out and headed to the front entrance complete with Romanesque pillars.
Ryker knocked loudly on the thick door and it was opened a few seconds later by an unfamiliar man. He was a similar age to Ryker. Not as tall, not as wide – physically he didn’t look much. But he had a hard face with a scar that ran across his left cheek up to and over his eye, and a steely glint in his stare that told Ryker he wasn’t someone to mess with. Ryker knew the type. He’d seen it before: every time he looked in a mirror.
This guy was dangerous.
The man said nothing. He stepped aside so Ryker could get past and waved his arm to indicate for Ryker to carry on through. Ryker cautiously walked into the house, and continued down the hallway and into the marbled kitchen. He glanced behind him every couple of steps to see the man slowly following, his hard gaze fixed on Ryker, his hands hanging by his sides, at the ready. The man nodded, indicating for Ryker to keep going, and he continued through to the open back doors then stepped out into the garden.
Ryker spotted Eva immediately, sitting in a lounger next to the pool. She wore nothing but a skimpy bikini that left little to the imagination and a pair of tinted sunglasses that covered much of her face, and was holding an iced drink in one hand. She smiled when she saw Ryker and got to her feet.
‘Hello, James,’ she purred.
‘Eva,’ Ryker said, sounding as cool as he felt.
He had to admit, Eva looked stunning, with her toned body and sun-drenched skin. But Ryker was not about to be side-tracked by a beautiful woman, particularly one he mistrusted. He wasn’t sure Eva quite realised that yet. In the meantime, Ryker was happy to play along and let her think she had the power. It may yet work in his favour.
Ryker moved toward her. He looked behind and saw the man stood at the back door with his arms folded across his chest. He was staring at Ryker.
‘You’ve met Sergei.’ Eva looked over Ryker’s shoulder.
‘Yeah. You’re a bit old for a babysitter, aren’t you?’
Eva laughed. ‘I love the bravado. He may not look much, but he’s no pushover.’
‘Why’s he here? Daddy getting paranoid?’
‘Daddy’s always paranoid.’
‘About what?’
‘Why don’t you ask him?’
‘Because I want a truthful answer.’
‘You don’t like him, do you?’
‘Your dad?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m not sure it matters either way.’
‘To you, maybe not.’ Eva stooped her head down and lifted her glasses to reveal her eyes. ‘I’m up here, James.’
‘Why don’t you put on some clothes. Then we can talk.’
‘I’m sorry that me looking like this is such a distraction for you.’ Eva finished her drink, sucking at the straw until it slurped in the bottom of the glass. She fixed her sultry gaze squarely on Ryker. ‘You thirsty?’
‘What you drinking?’
‘Lemonade. But I’m feeling it’s about time for something stronger.’
Ryker looked at his watch. Nearly five p.m. ‘Why not.’
‘But not here,’ Eva said, moving back over to the lounger. She quickly dressed in a short denim skirt that showed off every inch of her toned legs and a strappy-top that did little to cover her ample cleavage.
‘Won’t your babysitter mind?’
‘I’m not a prisoner here.’
‘Of course you’re not,’ Ryker scoffed. Prison? He would certainly trade some of the cells he’d been holed up in for being cooped up in the Kozlov’s mansion.
‘But he is coming with us.’ Eva walked past Ryker and up to Sergei who didn’t move as Eva reached out and playfully squeezed his cheek, smirking as she did so.
Ryker smiled. Sergei simply stared through him.
‘Come on boys,’ Eva called. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
CHAPTER 28
Sergei the henchman drove. Eva and Ryker sat in the back of the luxury SUV, where everything was so shiny and clean it looked like it had never been used.
Every few minutes, Sergei would glare into the rear-view mirror, his suspicious eyes on Ryker.
‘Does he ever talk?’ Ryker asked Eva as he glared back at Sergei.
‘Of course he does.’
‘Does he speak English?’
‘Not a word.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ Eva leaned forward in her seat and tapped Sergei on the shoulder. ‘Hey, do you speak any English, you stupid ugly monkey?’ Sergei said nothing. No reaction on his face. ‘Would you like to see my knickers?’ Eva said. ‘White cotton. Like your little sister. Your favourite. Perhaps you’d like to take them off with your teeth.’
Not a twitch from Sergei.
‘Okay, I think you’ve proved your point,’ Ryker said. Either that or Sergei was one cool character. Actually no, Ryker was sure Sergei was a cool character regardless.
‘He’s quite playful really,’ Eva said. ‘If you get him in the right mood.’
‘I’m sure he is.’
‘I like you, James,’ she said, giving him a beaming smile.
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re not married.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘No ring.’
‘Ah. No, I’m not married.’
‘But there is a special someone?’
‘Yes. There is,’ Ryker said, feeling slightly awkward.
‘She’s a lucky lady.’
‘You could say that.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Where are we going?’ Ryker said, looking out of the window and seeing the familiar road that led up to Mijas village.
‘For a drink.’
‘Long way to come for a drink.’
‘I like it up here.’
‘Me too. Just didn’t think it would be your... style.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It wasn’t an insult. Just this place, the village, doesn’t seem very trendy for–’
‘A rich man’s daughter? What, you thought I’d take you over to Puerto Banus so we could ogle at the billionaires’ yachts and sip cocktails while watching Ferraris and Lamborghinis crawl by.’
Ryker shrugged. Actually she was spot on with her deduction.
‘I’m not materialistic like that.’
‘No. You just sunbathe at your mansion all day and have your chauffeur drive you out for half an hour when you fancy a drink.’
Ryker smiled. He was playing with her, not trying to rile her. But he thought he saw a little hurt in her eyes.
‘It’s not all fun and games, you know, being brought up with all the money in the world.’
‘I’m sure it’s a real hardship.’
‘Don’t be such an arsehole,’ she said, more on edge. ‘I didn’t choose to be born into money. And it doesn’t define who I am.’
‘Okay, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I like it up here. The village is nice. Picturesque. It’s a good choice. I thought someone your age would go somewhere more hip.’
‘Oh, so now it’s my age that’s a problem? You think I’m a dumb kid who goes out binge drinking and eating kebabs at two a.m.?’
Ryker laughed. The twinkle in her eye told him Eva was playing him a little. ‘Sounds like a decent night out to me.’
‘Sorry to disappoint but I thought we’d go for something a bit more laid back.’
‘I can do laid back.’
Moments later, Sergei pulled the car over to the side of a narrow road that ran through the village.
‘We’re here,’ Eva said. ‘Let’s go.’
Ryker and Eva got out of the car. The stench of piss caught Ryker’s nose as a diminutive man led a drove of donkeys along the cobbled street. Eva saw Ryker�
�s face.
‘For the tourists,’ she said, shrugging. ‘A donkey ride through a traditional Andalusian white-washed village.’
‘Do you get a peg for your nose?’
‘Very funny.’
‘He’s not coming with us?’ Ryker indicated Sergei who remained in the driver’s seat.
‘He’ll wait down the road. We don’t want him spoiling our fun, do we?’
‘Definitely not.’
Eva took the lead and headed across the street to a quaint tapas bar that had several blue-painted hanging baskets in full bloom across its front. The couple walked inside and the smell of freshly cooked food caught Ryker’s attention.
The bar looked like it had been recently refurbished, carrying on the blue colour scheme of the outside, but the style was old-school; wood-panelling, meats hanging from the bar, bottles of wine stashed in racks along one wall. A chalkboard displayed the day’s tapas. Ryker’s belly growled thinking about it.
They took a seat by the window, away from the only other couple in the bar, and ordered two glasses of red wine from the waiter.
The wine came and Ryker gave in to temptation and ordered a plate of chorizos. Some cheese too.
Half an hour later, Ryker had finished off the food and was working through a second of glass of wine and a third basket of bread. The alcohol and food was making him feel contented, but still focused.
The chat was banal and a little flirty. What more would he expect from Eva? It hadn’t escaped his attention that every so often she’d shuffle a little closer to him. Her shoulder, arm, leg was within an inch of Ryker and more than once she’d accidentally brushed him.
Accidentally? Ryker thought. No, bad choice of wording. ‘It’s quiet.’
‘It’s early. It’ll get busy later on.’
‘You’re a regular here?’ Ryker asked, having noticed the warm smile and overtly friendly manner of the waiter.
‘I own it.’
Ryker couldn’t help but smirk at that.
‘Oh get over yourself,’ Eva said. ‘It’s not what you think. I used my own money to buy this place.’
‘Your own money?’
‘My. Own. Money. I bought it, a derelict shell. I put together the plans, oversaw the refurbishment, found the staff. My father had nothing to do with any of it.’