Luc: A Spy Thriller

by Greg Coppin

  Dondero had the hostages.

  Except now he was dead.

  I flicked through the other text messages on Dondero’s mobile phone in the hope that he would mention the whereabouts of the hostages, but there was nothing. I opened the glove compartment. Untidy stack of CDs and a rag.

  The pregnant woman and her brother were our only leads now.

  ***

  The hospital car park was overcrowded and I parked the Mitsubishi on a side path and raced through the entrance, side-stepping patients and visitors and some nurses. I turned back to the nurses.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said, ‘I’m looking for Maternity.’

  They both smiled, sensing my urgency, no doubt mistaking me for a soon-to-be-father.

  ‘First floor. East Wing. Good luck.’

  I thanked them and raced around the corner for the lifts. I stabbed at the button, pressing it a few times. As I waited I glanced around. And immediately recognised someone down the corridor at the coffee machine. It was Grace. Wife of Steenhoek.

  I looked back at the lift. Come on, hurry up, I thought.

  Three seconds later they opened with a ping and I hurried inside after an elderly couple had stepped out.

  I pressed the button for the first floor.

  The maternity unit had a softer, pinker feel than the rest of the hospital that I’d seen. I hurried up to the reception desk.

  ‘Yes, sir?’ asked the receptionist.

  ‘Good afternoon. I’m looking for…’ And then realised I didn’t know the name of the pregnant woman.

  ‘Yes sir?’

  ‘I’m looking for Mrs Dondero,’ I said. It was the only name I could guess at.

  The receptionist tapped some keys on her computer.

  ‘Actually, don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I see her brother. Thank you.’ He was pacing up and down the corridor to my right.

  When he saw me striding towards him he stiffened with anger. He pointed back down the corridor with his finger. ‘Get the hell out of here. Now.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ I said standing directly in front of him. I lowered my voice. ‘You murdered someone. And I am a witness to that fact. So if I was you I’d start being a little more helpful towards me.’

  ‘It was self-defence, and you can say what you want. I don’t help friends of Jimmy Dondero.’

  ‘I’m not a friend of Jimmy Dondero.’

  ‘You work with him. Same deal.’

  ‘I don’t work with him.’

  ‘I heard you.’

  ‘Listen. And listen well. I’m a cop. Yes, bad news for you. But I’m less interested in Jimmy Dondero, or who killed him, than I am with his criminal activities. You heard about the tourists being kidnapped at Xunantunichone?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Dondero was behind it.’

  His shoulders dropped. ‘Man, that sonofabitch.’ He shook his head. ‘I knew that lowlife was in deep with something.’

  ‘He was the one person who could lead us to the whereabouts of the hostages. And you shot him.’

  ‘I ain’t sorry. World is a fresher place without that turd.’

  ‘That maybe so. But I’m thinking about the hostages. How do we find them now?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘What if your sister with her unborn was one of the hostages?’

  ‘Dondero was whacko, but why would he kidnap his own wife?’

  ‘All right, what about Belize itself. You want this country’s tourist trade to disappear overnight? The man behind all this, the man Dondero was working for, wants to bring Belize to its knees. Do you want that to happen?’

  He looked at me.

  ‘You want Jimmy to win? Even in death?’

  He shrugged again. ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘Do you have any idea where Jimmy Dondero may have been keeping the hostages? Any building he had access to?’

  The man screwed his face up, shook his head.

  ‘A warehouse or something.’

  ‘No. Don’t think so. Not Jimmy.’

  I sighed.

  ‘Hang on,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s this place Jimmy goes to. He doesn’t own it or anything. Belongs to some big cheese. But Dondero was sort of like the caretaker for it.’

  ‘What place is this?’ I asked. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘It’s a storage unit. Out near Burrell Boom. You think he’s got the tourists there?’

  I got him to give me the exact address. I thanked him and sprinted back down the corridor to the lifts. I raced out of the hospital entrance and across the car park and jumped back into Dondero’s Mitsubishi Animal. I was about to switch on the engine when the passenger door was flung open and Mrs Grace Steenhoek climbed in.

  ‘I thought it was you,’ she said, looking over at me and closing her door.

  ‘Grace. Get out of the vehicle. Now.’

  ‘Maternity unit. Been a naughty boy?’

  ‘Grace. I’m being serious. Get out.’

  She shook her head. ‘You and I are going on a little journey.’

  She was wearing a pink micro skirt above a tiny green T-shirt. Her legs were long and shapely and I was seeing a good deal of them.

  But I had work to do.

  ‘No we are not,’ I said forcefully.

  My driver’s door suddenly shot open and before I had a chance to react a fist suddenly smashed into the side of my face. It was a very strong punch and I barely heard the words, ‘Oh yes we are,’ before my head collapsed onto Grace’s lap and everything went dark.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  When I awoke I found I was lying on the back seat of an unfamiliar car. There was a musky perfume smell in the air.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake.’ Grace looked round from the front passenger seat.

  ‘What’s happening here?’ I asked, still getting my bearings. My right wrist was handcuffed to the rear passenger door. ‘Mr Steenhoek has got a nerve.’

  ‘My husband knows nothing about this,’ Grace said. ‘Which is sort of the point.’

  I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, I am leaving my husband.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘No, I’m leaving him quite happily. A man with only one knee is no use to me.’ She glanced across at the thug driving. ‘Isn’t that right, Valezco?’

  ‘Wouldn’t be able to keep up,’ Valezco said grinning.

  Grace reached over and squeezed the thug’s thigh. ‘Valezco more than keeps up.’ They grinned knowingly at each other.

  ‘Beautiful. So where do I fit in?’

  ‘All in good time,’ Grace said. ‘I’d offer you something to smoke. I could tell from your car how fond you are. But that would be a waste. Wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Listen, Grace. You need to - .’

  ‘You need to be quiet,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, shut up,’ Valezco said.

  ‘Actually, I’m going to tell him,’ Grace said.

  Valezco shrugged.

  Grace turned back to me. She had two vertical frown lines in between her sculpted eyebrows.

  ‘We need time to get away from my husband,’ she said. ‘We all know he’ll send heaven and earth after us the moment he finds out we’ve gone off together. What you’ll be doing is to stall him.’

  ‘Stall him…’

  She nodded. ‘When he comes home from hospital tomorrow and finds neither of us there, he’s rapidly going to become concerned. Who knows how quickly he will put two and two together.

  ‘But when he comes home tomorrow and finds your corpse in the house, well, that will cloud things a little. He’ll wonder all sorts of things. Why are you there? Who killed you? Are me and Valezco in similar danger? It will slow him down pretty good.’

  With my free hand I rubbed my forehead.

  ‘It’s a brilliant plan, don’t you think?’ Grace said. ‘It was Valezco who came up with it. When I told him at the hospital earlier that I thought I’d seen you, it only took him a couple o
f minutes. And then he’s excitedly telling me how we can finally leave. I always thought he was more than a simple bodyguard.’ She gazed across lovingly at her new beau and he reached out with his left arm and they clasped hands.

  ‘Listen to me,’ I said gravely. ‘There are people who I need to help and - .’

  ‘Before I kill you,’ Valezco turned profile to speak to me, ‘I blow your kneecap off. Revenge for what you did to Mr Steenhoek.’

  ‘Loyalty. I like it. Especially from someone who’s running off with his wife. But listen to me, there are currently hostages who…’

  We swung into the grounds of Steenhoek’s place. Valezco took the car up the drive and then he hit the brakes and I was dragged out of the car. Grace opened up the front door and I was pushed inside and thrown onto the fake marble floor.

  ‘Listen,’ I said, getting to my knees, ‘you’re making a big mistake. If you two want to leave I can get you safely out of the country in an hour.’

  Grace looked dismissively down at me and then looked at Valezco. ‘Get this done quickly,’ she said. ‘I want to be out of here in ten minutes. I’ll pack for both of us.’

  She left us and jogged upstairs.

  ‘Stay on your knees,’ Valezco said, stepping around me and pulling the gun out from his jeans. He slowly screwed in a silencer.

  ‘You won’t get far on your own,’ I told him. ‘I’m trained in this. I can make you disappear.’

  ‘That’s nice. But I’m going to make you disappear first.’

  I was on my knees, my hands handcuffed behind me. Valezco was finishing attaching the silencer to the gun. He stepped towards me, looking at my knees. ‘Left or right?’

  I sank back onto my hands for the support and whipped my legs out, all one swift movement. I sliced my feet round, taking out Valezco’s legs. There was a startled moan from him and he collapsed onto his left hip and the gun clattered across the floor. I got to one knee and then stood up. Valezco was scrambling to get up and I kicked him in the head and he spun over and lay flat out on his stomach. He’d be out for a while.

  I stepped back through my wrists so my handcuffed hands were now out in front of me. I stooped to pick up the gun and then ran up the stairs in search of Grace.

  I found her in the bedroom. Two large suitcases open on the bed. She was throwing clothes into them.

  She spun round when I came into the room. First she looked startled, then fear touched her face.

  ‘What have you done to Valezco?’

  She shouted his name. When there was no answer she made to run past me.

  I pushed her back into the room. Then I pointed the gun at her.

  ‘I need the keys to these cuffs,’ I said. ‘I need them now.’

  ‘What have you done to Valezco?’ she demanded.

  ‘Nothing. But I’ll shoot more than his knees off if you don’t give me those keys.’

  ‘You are scum.’

  ‘I am waiting.’

  She pouted and huffed but then she went across to her handbag on the bed and got the keys out.

  ‘Unlock the cuffs,’ I told her.

  She walked over, fear and loathing in her eyes. I lifted my wrists up and she took a couple of seconds to get the key in the lock. When they opened up I wrenched them off and threw them on her bed.

  ‘Downstairs,’ I told her.

  ‘You haven’t hurt Valezco?’

  ‘Valezco is fine. A headache. A sore chin. Certainly a lot better than what you two had planned for me.’

  ‘You. You’re scum.’

  I grabbed hold of her and pushed her out of the door.

  Downstairs, Valezco was on all fours and groggily trying to get up. I kicked him in the stomach and pushed his back down with my foot and he sprawled, chest down, on the floor. ‘Not yet,’ I said.

  ‘Valezco.’ Grace was on her knees, cupping Valezco’s head in her trembling hands. ‘Valezco. Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

  ‘I want the keys to your car,’ I said.

  Grace looked up, alarmed. ‘We are leaving in that car.’

  ‘Wrong.’

  ‘Me and Valezco are leaving.’

  ‘Keys.’

  ‘Go to hell.’ She looked back at her man. ‘Valezco, can you stand?’

  Outside came the sound of a car approaching up the drive. I stepped to the window.

  ‘It’s my husband,’ Grace said, her face opening in shock and fear, as she weakly stood.

  ‘I thought you said he wasn’t coming home until tomorrow.’

  ‘He wasn’t.’

  Great. This pantomime could not drag on any longer.

  I brought the gun out and strode over to Grace.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ I said.

  I grabbed the back of her collar and put the gun to the side of her head.

  ‘Say goodbye to Valezco,’ I told her.

  ‘No,’ she gasped. She struggled in vain to get free. ‘What are you - ?’

  ‘Open the door.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Open the door.’

  She reached out and tentatively opened the front door and we stepped out into the evening sun as Steenhoek rolled towards us in his wheelchair, pushed by one of his thugs. Steenhoek’s eyes opened wide as he saw me and his wife. He glanced quickly inside, so he must’ve seen Valezco sprawled on the floor.

  ‘Evening,’ I said. ‘Haven’t got time to explain. I’ll let your wife go two blocks away.’

  ‘What the hell is going on here?’ Steenhoek asked.

  ‘Unlock the car,’ I said to Grace. ‘Do it. Don’t look at him.’

  She dropped her head, pulled the keys from her bag and pressed the button. Blip-blip.

  ‘Open the door and get in.’ A cool breeze danced across my face and I got a lovely aroma of jasmine and roses.

  ‘Luc. You better talk to me.’

  Grace got into the car. ‘Slide over to the passenger seat.’

  ‘You will answer for this,’ Steenhoek said.

  With my gun still trained on Grace I got into the driver’s seat and closed the door. I started the engine, swung the car round and tore off down the drive. The gates had closed again and I told Grace to open them.

  ‘Don’t anger me,’ I said. ‘I know you have the little gadget.’

  She pulled it from her handbag. The gates swung open and we shot out and I took the car down Fleshow Street. I brought my mobile phone out. Dialled the number.

  ‘Can I speak to Detective Warita Aranda,’ I said, when the phone was answered.

  ‘This is Aranda.’

  ‘Warita, it’s Luc.’

  ‘I’m kind of busy, Mr Luc.’

  ‘I think I know the whereabouts of the kidnapped tourists.’

  ‘Think or know?’

  ‘It’s not one hundred per cent, but what are you going to do, ignore it?’

  There was a pause. ‘You’d better not be lying to me.’

  ‘I’m not. No more chatter, we’re running out of time.’ I told her the address.

  ‘Get a good team down there,’ I said.

  ‘Thanks for telling us how to do our job.’

  ‘Sorry. I’ll see you there. I’m about twenty minutes away.’

  ‘No need for you - .’

  I hung up. As soon as I did the phone rang.

  ‘Warren,’ I said, answering it.

  ‘Get yourself down to Belmopan, my friend,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a meet with Mr Falcao. Only ten minutes, all he can spare. He’s taking a car to some function, and you’ll be along for the ride. He wants you outside his office at eight p.m.’

  ‘Good work, Warren.’

  ‘You see, you can - .’

  I cut the call.

  I was aware of a strange sound. I looked over and realised Grace was sobbing.

  ‘Are you all right?’ I asked her.

  ‘It’s over,’ she said through her tears.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’ll never let me go now. That was our one chance.�
��

  ‘Grace, I’ll let you go in a minute. I just needed - .’

  ‘What for? A life with Niek? I wanted out.’

  ‘You can still get out.’

  ‘You don’t understand, do you? Me and Valezco shouldn’t have been anywhere near the house yet. Certainly not together. The fact Niek came back early means he knows. How can we possibly explain away the two suitcases?’

  ‘I’m sorry. But there are bigger things going on.’

  ‘Let me stay here. With you.’

  ‘Are you serious? You hate me.’

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe I could get to like you.’ She reached out and began to play about with my hair.

  ‘No, Grace. That’s not going to happen.’

  She went silent then. And withdrew her hand.

  Then she quietly opened her door and the rush of wind blew in and she went to simply fall out.

  ‘Grace.’

  I snapped my hand out and grabbed her left arm and yanked her back towards me as the car veered across the road. There was an almighty crash and Grace screamed as a yellow 4x4 smashed into the passenger door, tearing it completely off its hinges, the door spinning in the air and crashing to the ground.

  ‘Grace. For god’s sake.’ I got us back in the right lane and held a hand up to apologise to anyone behind.

  ‘My life’s over anyway.’

  ‘Grace, your life is not over.’

  ‘Today was going to be so good.’

  I held onto her arm tightly. There was a massive hole in the side of the car and she would be able to leap out any time she wanted otherwise.

  ‘Don’t try and jump again, Grace.’

  She started sobbing again. Burying her face in her hands, as the air rushed in by the side of her, whipping her hair and clothes about.

  ***

  I was glad and relieved when we pulled into the car park of the storage unit where I believed the hostages were being held. There had been no further incidents, thankfully.

  Warita and her team were already there. About ten of them, in dark clothing and baseball caps. Warita spotted us arriving and strolled over. She peered in through my open window.

  ‘You can go directly back out again. We don’t need you. Thank you.’ She tapped the car door. ‘Aren’t you supposed to have another one of these on the other side?’

  ‘Didn’t want to be greedy.’

  She nodded. ‘Who’s your friend?’

  ‘This,’ I said, ‘is Grace Steenhoek. Wife of Niek Steenhoek. And I’m sure that for a new identity for her and a chap called Valezco, Mrs Steenhoek would be more than happy to talk to you about various areas of interest.’