To Deceive Is To Love (Romantic suspense)

by Lynne King

  Placing his head in his hands, he rested the weight against the steering wheel. He had to put emotion aside and think and act like a professional, but it was impossible. This wasn’t some faceless stranger he had been sent in to rescue and hell if it didn’t come off, no one lives forever. This time, he wanted to live and with the woman he loved.

  With this thought in mind, he turned the ignition key and started up Tony’s BMW, joining the steady flow of traffic into London. Parking the car on the corner of a street opposite Chantelle’s flat, he turned off the lights and sat in darkness watching the lower part of the building. Dark, lined curtains were drawn tight across the Victorian bay, giving no indication of light or shadows behind them. Only the entrance hall was lit up and that was visible due to a small glass panel at the top of the doorway.

  Opening up his canvas knapsack, he retrieved the 9mm pistol, took the safety catch off and placed it under the seat. It was no good trying to conceal the weapon on him; he would be searched. Going back into his bag, he hesitated on the metal box containing the diamonds. It was decision time.

  His hand came away from the box as he placed the knapsack out of sight on the floor of the car next to his gun. It was a risk he had to take. Bluffing was an art to him, except to carry it out, he needed to feel confident. Right now, he felt the opposite, nausea sweeping over him. He had never felt this afraid before, because he had never had so much to lose.

  Climbing out of the car, he crossed the road and walked up the few steps to the entrance door. He buzzed the ground floor flat. He suspected he was under inspection through the spy hole in the door. A minute passed and the door finally opened.

  He stepped in, not knowing who was behind it until the door closed behind him and Abdul pushed him up against the wall, ordering that he put his hands up above his head. They entered the ground floor flat and David’s eyes instantly locked on the bound and gagged couple on the settee. An impassive mask hid the surge of feeling, as he turned away from those wide, emerald eyes filled with terror and looked at the gun barrel Hendersson held to Chantelle’s temple.

  “Search him and make it thorough,” Hendersson barked at Abdul.

  With David’s hands still raised, Abdul ran his hands up and down David’s body searching for signs of a weapon, not stopping until he had done all of his torso and each leg, pausing on the bandaged one.

  “Is that why you limp?” Abdul questioned darkly.

  “Top marks for clever observation,” David returned dismissively.

  “Take the jacket off,” Hendersson ordered.

  David knew he was revealing fear, his body exuding it out of every pore. Damp patches under his armpits seeped through the borrowed denim shirt he wore, a new, unwelcome experience. Dropping the jacket to the floor, he placed his hands above his head as Abdul checked him again, as if not convinced he would show up unarmed. He kept his features fixed in a cold, hard mask of contempt, his gaze boring into Hendersson. Finally, the search was over and he was told to lower his arms.

  “You took my warning seriously, I see, but where are the diamonds?” Lowering his gun, Hendersson lit another cigarette and puffed heavily on it.

  “Outside, in the car. Where is my money and passport?” David asked grimly. “You didn’t think I would walk in here and hand over the diamonds, knowing for a fact that once I had, you would kill us? You were never one to leave loose ends.”

  “You know me too well.” A sardonic twist appeared on his lips as he took another draw on the cigarette. Fat, nicotine stained fingers paused in mid-air. ”And yes, maybe with all the attention recently focused on me, removing you might help the rumors die. Still, the damage has been done and I have enough funds now to take early retirement in a country that caters to my more indulgent tastes. Killing you might not be entirely necessary, since I won’t be around.”

  David restrained himself from saying no country had a sewer big enough to accommodate him. Instead, he told Hendersson how it was going down. From the way Hendersson’s frown deepened and a muscle twitched angrily in his cheek, David felt it was working.

  “So, you see, anyone touches those diamonds and half the street will go up with them. I have strapped them to enough explosives to make quite an impact and only I know the disarming code.” He rolled his sleeve back to inspect his watch, noticing how Abdul raised his gun at this action. “It’s also on a timer, so unless you have an explosive specialist reachable within the next twenty minutes, we’d better make this deal pretty quickly.”

  “He is lying,” Abdul said. “I say we kill them now and be gone from here.” Raising his machine pistol, he pointed it at David, hatred emblazoned in his eyes.

  David kept his attention on Hendersson.

  “Wait.” Hendersson held up his hand. “Let us hear his proposal first. Then we will decide.”

  “Let those two go and I will give you the disarming code. You can watch me punch the numbers in if you don’t trust me.”

  “Your life means nothing to you then.” Dropping his cigarette end, he ground it into the carpet, sneering at David.

  “I wouldn’t have come here tonight if I wasn’t prepared to die. Those two do not belong here; they are not part of this. Let them go.” He refused to look at Chantelle and yet, he could feel her trying to reach out to him.

  “Such heart-wrenching sentiment. I almost believe you mean it. Abdul, take him outside and have him show you the diamonds and see if indeed he is telling the truth. And remember…” He raised his automatic once again and pointed it at Chantelle’s temple.

  Back outside, David had no opportunity to try and take on Abdul. The barrel of the machine pistol continued to press into the small of his back, a warning that he had no room to maneuver the situation to his advantage. Crossing the road, David noticed the street seemed unnaturally deserted. The rain had ceased and it wasn’t that late. Unlocking the door and opening it, he stood back and pointed to the knapsack on the floor.

  “Open it.” Abdul waved the nozzle under David’s chin, his finger resting on the trigger.

  David knew as soon as he opened the knapsack, it would be obvious there were no explosives. The metal box was sitting on the top. He had to act now and retrieve his gun. Either way, it was suicide.

  He leaned inside the car, trying to visualize where the machine pistol was pointed now that he couldn’t feel it against the small of his back. He had to overpower Abdul without any shots being fired.

  He was about to make his move when he heard the sound of a metal object hitting the ground. Snapping his head around while the rest of him remained static, he saw Abdul’s arms held up above his head, the nozzle of an automatic pressing into his neck under his jaw. At his feet lay the machine pistol. Behind Abdul, with a grin, was his friend from Customs.

  “Quick, get him away from the car and out of sight, in case Hendersson looks out.”

  Doing as David said, his friend motioned for Abdul to move and signaled to the rest of his men to stay in the shadows.

  “How did you know I was here?” David asked.

  “Your friend Tony and the fact that Hendersson isn’t the only one who can place tracers on calls. Your girlfriend used his wife’s phone, so we knew she was coming here.”

  Realizing there wasn’t time for lengthy explanations, David’s fingers clenched hold of Abdul’s jaw, his fingers digging into Abdul’s cheeks. “Listen carefully,” he said in a low, savage whisper. “We go back in there and you tell Hendersson that I was right, the diamonds are wired to explosives, plenty of it. I want those two out of it, understand? You warn him or do anything to make him suspicious, you’ll die. Once he has the diamonds, he’ll kill you anyway. Or were you hoping to do him first?”

  An acknowledging sneer revealed itself. “And what if I do what you say?”

  “You cooperate and my friends here will be generous. You’re of no importance, it’s Hendersson we want.” David released his hold on Abdul. “The choice is yours. Work with us or die in a hail of bullets. Because i
f the hostages don’t come out, these men will be going in and by then, it will be too late for any deals.”

  “David, let us go in. You can’t trust this guy.”

  Turning to his friend, David shook his head vehemently. “No, we do it my way.” His eyes narrowed sharply as they tore into Abdul. “Don’t think you will die a martyr. No record and no respect will be given, you will die an unknown. I think you know what I’m talking about. Well?”

  “How can I trust you won’t kill me anyway and violate my passing?” He matched David’s glare.

  “You have my word, which unlike Hendersson, I keep. As for messing up your afterlife, I leave such matters to God. Now, let’s go.” David pushed him out of the shadows and handed back his machine pistol, the magazine emptied of its cartridge. He slipped his own gun into the back of his trousers.

  “Give us five minutes,” David said, refusing to listen to his friend’s argument.

  The Customs men were not happy. They were all wearing flack jackets and had the arms response unit with trained marksmen in attendance. It was obvious they wanted some action and sending a suspected arms dealer and terrorist back into a hostage situation didn’t make sense. They finally backed down under orders and started counting the minutes.

  Entering the house, David resumed the position of walking in front of Abdul. He whispered hoarsely to make sure it looked good and the jab from the machine pistol in his back confirmed Abdul understood.

  Opening the flat door, they stepped in, David making sure the gun protruding from his waistband wasn’t visible, his hands behind his back resting on it. For a moment, he thought he had been discovered. Hendersson had untied Chantelle’s feet and now had an arm firmly wrapped around her neck, her body in front of him. His other hand held the gun up to her face.

  “What took you so long? I looked out and the street was empty.” His voice sounded edgy, his earlier confidence gone.

  “The car was down the road. Parking is bloody awful around here. I suggest we hurry these proceedings up.” David made a show of looking at his watch. “Ten minutes and it will be raining diamonds.”

  Hendersson looked at Abdul, awaiting confirmation.

  David’s muscles tightened, his fingers now gripping the handle of his pistol as silence filled the room.

  “He’s right,” Abdul finally stated.

  David released the grip on his gun and clenched his fingers still held behind his back to keep the circulation going.

  Releasing his arm from around Chantelle’s neck, Hendersson’s fingers then dug into her scalp. Taking hold of her hair by the roots, he forced her around to the side of him. His grip remained firm and her eyes glistened with discomfort. “I think maybe all four of us will go.”

  David could feel rage rising, wanting to erupt, but held back by that small voice of reason telling him to keep emotions out of this or risk both of their lives. He knew to go outside with Hendersson still holding the gun to Chantelle and possibly trigger happy men ready to open fire, anything could happen. It meant he had to take Hendersson now.

  With Hendersson’s gun no longer pointing at her temple, but held down by his side, David stepped forward and in the same movement, snatched out his 9mm pistol. He held the barrel a fraction away from Hendersson’s forehead. “Drop the gun and let the girl go.”

  Hendersson looked completely taken aback by this development, his gaze darting toward Abdul, who did nothing, the machine pistol at his side, the empty cartridge chamber revealed.

  “I said drop it now,” David growled hoarsely.

  Slowly, his fingers opened, allowing his automatic to drop to the floor. His other hand released Chantelle’s hair.

  “Kick it toward me.”

  Hendersson did as instructed and David bent down and picked the discarded gun up, his eyes and 9mm never wavering from Hendersson’s face. Releasing the cartridge clip and allowing it to drop to the floor, he threw the disarmed automatic to the other side of the room.

  Chantelle moved away from Hendersson and came to his side. Using his free hand he untied the gag binding her mouth, but her wrists were too tightly bound.

  “You okay?” he questioned sideways, his gaze still fixed ahead.

  “I think so,” she finally muttered, her voice hoarse.

  An ugly sneer formed on Hendersson’s lips. “She was never my type.”

  Stepping closer, David used the back of his hand containing the gun to sweep across Hendersson’s jaw, knocking him to the floor.

  Next to him, Chantelle gasped.

  “Stay down on your knees and start praying,” David said savagely. No longer were his emotions held in check. He wanted -- needed -- revenge.

  Images of that scene in Iraq flashed through his mind, how the agent he had been sent in to rescue was gunned down before him. The double-cross had come from Hendersson. How many other agents over the years had he sold out? Then recently, arms meant to equip British troops requisitioned and sold to terrorists, the abduction of Chantelle, the subsequent abuse and mental torture she had been put through and now this. No trial or prison term would compensate for Hendersson’s actions. With these raging black thoughts, his finger remained poised on the trigger.

  “Don’t do this, David. I’ll give you names, contacts, we can cut a deal.” Blood dripped from Hendersson’s mouth, but his voice remained strong and detached. “You just can’t kill me in cold blood. You might be a lot of things, but a murderer? I don’t think so.” Beads of perspiration breaking out on his forehead were the only sign of emotion. Even facing death, Hendersson remained cool and calculating.

  “You should know all about murder. Only this time, I am ridding the world of a virus. I wouldn’t call it murder, more like a cure, retribution. As for any kind of deal, forget it.”

  David understood how devious Hendersson was. He wouldn’t serve any prison term. He knew too much about the C.T.A.U. and they would cut a deal just to keep his silence.

  Anger rose within until he was ready to pull the trigger. Chantelle’s voice finally broke through the thick fog that surrounded his senses.

  “David, no! You shoot him like this and you are no better than him. You’re not an assassin. He’s right, it would be murder. Are you hearing me?” She reached out and grabbed his wrist holding the gun.

  “Keep out of this, Chantelle. You don’t understand,” he said coldly.

  “Revenge is all you’re after, but afterwards, will it undo all that has been done? No, but it will be on both our consciences for the rest of our lives. You may be able to live with it, but I can’t. I’m begging you now. Please, don’t do it.”

  For a brief second, his gaze locked with hers. He knew then by pulling the trigger, she would be lost to him forever. Slowly, his finger relaxed and he chose her over revenge.

  Abdul had remained still and silent, but now he moved forward. David was cautious until Abdul made a gesture toward Chantelle’s wrists as if he was about to untie them.

  Relaxing slightly, David ordered Hendersson to get back onto his feet. He never noticed Abdul still had his empty machine pistol. Not until the butt of it swung back into his jaw with a sickening thud, the shock and force of it knocking him back.

  Abdul leapt forward and delivered two sharper, violent blows. A crack sounded as the metal struck bone, giving David no time to react.

  His head struck the corner of the glass coffee table before he hit the ground and drifted into semi-consciousness on the cream carpet splattered with bright red blood that continued to drip from his mouth.

  ****

  “What the hell is going on?” Hendersson finally spoke.

  Chantelle, who had let out a piercing scream, was pushed back onto the settee by Abdul, his hand held over her mouth as he ordered her to shut up.

  Bending over, Abdul picked up the gun that had fallen from David’s gasp as he hit the coffee table.

  Confidence seemed to seep back into Hendersson’s face as he took out a cigarette and lit it. He never got to inhale.


  The cigarette froze at his mouth as Abdul pointed the gun straight at him and pulled the trigger. “You misjudged me, friend. I was never here for the diamonds. I was here for my brother, Bakir. For revenge.”

  Shock remained fixed on Hendersson’s face as he fell back clutching his chest.

  Looking at the terrified couple on the settee, Abdul ordered them to get out. “You mean nothing, now go.” He motioned with the gun.

  Paul had managed to free himself and was trying to drag Chantelle with him.

  But she was more concerned for the man still lying spread-eagled on the floor than her own life.

  Abdul delivered another vicious attack, this time with his booted foot straight into David’s rib cage, bringing him out of his dazed state with an agonizing groan. It was obvious Abdul wanted him conscious when he delivered his final blow. He aimed the nozzle of the gun now into David’s forehead as he leaned over the body. “This is for Bakir.”

  At the same time as Chat darted out from his hidden position with a piercing wail, Chantelle tore herself out of Paul's grasp and flung herself toward David. The sound of a gun releasing its load sounded in her ears. An explosion and imagery of blood red was all she remembered before numbness took hold and the horror faded.

  ****

  “We’ve had to give her quite a strong sedative, so it’s best she stays here overnight.”

  “Doctor, does she know what happened?”

  “No, but then neither do I. When she first came around, she was quite hysterical and unable to comprehend what was being said to her.”

  She had saved his life, that was what had happened. A marksman had managed to creep into the apartment via a window in the bathroom. The cat had spotted him first and in the split second that Abdul had hesitated in pulling the trigger, his attention first on the cat and then Chantelle, the diversion had allowed the marksman a clear shot of his target. The marksman’s bullet delivered instantaneous death to Abdul.