Noble Intentions: Season One

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Noble Intentions: Season One Page 26

by L. T. Ryan


  “Here it is.” Clarissa slid her card through the magnetic lock and opened the door. She extended her arm.

  “You first,” Mike said.

  She stepped into the room and mentally inventoried everything that wasn’t nailed down. It didn’t leave much, but then again, she didn’t need much. Still, a blunt weapon of some sort would make this easier, perhaps more humane. The room was barely twenty feet long and it didn’t take Clarissa long to reach the far side of the room. Nothing stood out to use as a weapon. She sighed and reached for the balcony door. She cracked it, turned her head. Mike stood at the other end of the room wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.

  “You coming out here?” she asked.

  He smiled. “No compliments?”

  She shrugged. Nothing special as far as she was concerned. She stepped onto the balcony. A glass vase sat on the small table. She knew from trying to pick it up earlier that it was glued down. She ripped it free and tucked it behind her back.

  Mike stepped out. “Why don’t you lean up against that rail and let me—”

  Clarissa slammed the vase down across the top of his head. The glass was thick and the vase heavy, despite its small size. The vase shattered over his head.

  Mike fell to his knees. Blood flowed freely and profusely from the wound to his scalp. He scrambled to the corner of the balcony and turned to face Clarissa. “What are you doing?” He held his hand on the top of his head. The blood continued to pour from the wound.

  “You screwed with the wrong woman,” Clarissa said.

  He used the railing to get to his feet, stuck his hands out in front of him. “Bring it, bitch.”

  Judging by the amount of blood on his face, Clarissa doubted he could see her. She winked anyway, then she took a step forward and whipped her leg around, catching him in the chest.

  He fell back against the rail. His head snapped back, but his hands grabbed the rail and stopped his backward momentum. He straightened up and took two steps forward, swung his fists blindly.

  Clarissa avoided the first two swings and caught the back end of the third with her hand. A slight tap of her hand against his arm is all it took to send Mike reeling head first into the metal railing.

  He collapsed. For a few moments he lay still.

  She wondered if he broke his neck.

  Finally, he got to his knees.

  She looked around. The deck was a mess, covered in his blood.

  Time to end this.

  Mike pulled himself up using the railing.

  Clarissa waited for him to turn.

  He did.

  She delivered a jump kick that caught him in the chest.

  He fell backwards over the railing, hanging on with one hand.

  Clarissa still held the sharp jagged remains of the vase in her hand. She lifted it high in the air and slammed it down, severing his middle finger.

  Mike screamed. Let go. Fell.

  She leaned over the railing and watched as the rolling Atlantic Ocean swallowed him alive. She rested her elbows on the railing, placed her head in her hands and took a few deep breaths and steadied herself.

  Clarissa went back inside and grabbed all but one towel from the bathroom and linen closet. She soaked three of them in water then went back outside. She cleaned the blood from the deck, the railing, and anywhere else she could find it. Once satisfied, she threw the soiled towels overboard. Watched again as the ocean swallowed the bloody evidence.

  Her mind raced. Was he here alone? If not, how long till his friends noticed he was gone? She assumed that the ship had cameras placed everywhere. If they reviewed the footage they’d see the two of them. She’d be questioned. Although, she figured for the most part she blocked his face from view since they were about the same height.

  Don’t panic until you have to. That’s how you get through this.

  She had a drink, relaxed. Got a shower, dressed and went inside the first bar she could find.

  8

  Dimitri pulled the sedan into the first parking lot he found inside the small town of Levanto. He brushed his short brown hair forward and covered his blue eyes with dark sunglasses.

  “Get out,” he said to the three men in the car.

  All four exited the vehicle. Dimitri worried they would attract attention. After all, a little town like this probably wasn’t used to four Russians walking around in custom tailored suits.

  “That’s it,” Kostya said. “The drug store.”

  Dimitri nodded at his short, stocky partner. He motioned for the two other men to go in first. “To the back of the store. Call me and give me a count.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the men said.

  Dimitri turned to Kostya. “Think he’s close?”

  “A man like Noble?” Kostya said. “No way.”

  “You know him?” Dimitri asked.

  “Know of him,” Kostya replied. “Before I took employment with Ivanov, I was associated with an associate of Noble’s.”

  “Ever work with him?”

  “No,” Kostya said. “But I heard stories.”

  “How’s he compare with us?”

  “He’s better.”

  Dimitri squared up to Kostya and lifted an eyebrow. “Than who?”

  “All of us.”

  “Not me.”

  “Yes. You, me, all four of us combined.”

  Dimitri leaned back against the car, didn’t say anything.

  “Shoot to kill would be my recommendation.”

  “Can’t,” Dimitri said. “Ivanov specifically stated he wanted Noble alive.”

  “What’s the deal with the store?”

  “Girl inside. Last known point of contact.”

  Kostya shook his head. “I figured the spy would be. The French one.”

  “Probably right. But she’ll be a hell of a lot easier to catch and question than the Frenchman.”

  Kostya nodded.

  Dimitri’s phone rang. “Yes?” he answered in Russian.

  “It’s clear,” Vlad told him over the phone.

  “OK, we’ll be right in. Tell Rolan to stay at the back of the store. You come to the entrance.”

  “What’s the plan?” Kostya asked.

  Dimitri shrugged and smiled. “Get her to talk.”

  They pushed open the single glass door that led in and out of the small store. Dimitri nodded at Vlad who stood against the wall, hands crossed at his waist with a gun in his right hand. Dimitri scanned down the aisles until he saw Rolan positioned at the back of the store. Dimitri raised his fist. Rolan did the same.

  “Let me do the talking,” he said to Kostya.

  Kostya nodded.

  They walked up to the counter where the blond woman stood.

  “Can I help you?” she asked them in Italian.

  “Gianna?” Dimitri said.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Dimitri placed a picture of Jack on the counter. He looked at the woman and nodded toward the picture. “Know this man?”

  “Jack,” she said. “Is he OK?”

  “When was the last time you saw Jack?”

  “It’s been a week. He came through town, needed a place to stay.”

  “Do you know where he stayed?” Dimitri asked.

  “With me. But he left before the sun came up.”

  Dimitri leaned in, lifted his hand and motioned Gianna closer.

  She leaned in.

  Dimitri struck her across the face.

  She fell to the floor.

  He hopped over the counter and threw her over his shoulder.

  “Check outside,” Kostya said to Vlad.

  Vlad disappeared and returned a few moments later. “It’s clear.”

  “Here,” Dimitri said. “Take the keys and bring the car close.”

  He tossed the keys to Kostya and yelled for Rolan to follow them out. Dimitri carried the semi-conscious woman outside. Vlad slid into the back seat. Dimitri put Gianna in after him. Rolan followed, sandwiching her between him and Vlad.
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  “Move over,” Dimitri said to Kostya.

  Dimitri sat down behind the wheel and took off. He noticed two men outside the bar across the street. The men pointed at the Russians. One of them pulled out his car keys and disappeared around the side of the building.

  “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong?” Kostya asked.

  “We might have followers.”

  Kostya shrugged. “Couple of locals. Rolan can handle them.”

  Laughter erupted from the back of the car.

  Dimitri didn’t laugh, though. His eyes shifted from the road to the rear view mirror. It didn’t take long before a small gray car appeared behind them. Flickering headlights reflected off the mirror and the sound of the gray car’s horn filled the air. Soon enough the car was a few feet behind them.

  “Pull over,” Kostya said. “I’ll take care of them.”

  Kostya reached into his coat and pulled out a Yarygin PYa 9 mm pistol.

  Gianna screamed.

  Dimitri waved his hand at Kostya. “Not yet.” He drove on, keeping his speed steady while the car behind him swerved side to side and continued honking.

  A few miles down the road Dimitri spotted a dirt road. He slowed down and turned right onto the road. The car bounced along another mile before Dimitri stopped.

  The men in the grey car quickly got out.

  Dimitri took his time getting out.

  “What are you doing with Gianna?” asked one of the men as he pulled his brown hair back and tucked it under a hat.

  Dimitri smiled at the man. “Gentlemen, please relax.”

  The other man, a tall heavyset guy, kicked the back of Dimitri’s car, shattering the brake light.

  “Let me kill him,” Kostya said in Russian.

  “In a minute,” Dimitri said. “Let’s have some fun.”

  Kostya smiled. He pushed his door open and jumped out then walked around the front of the car.

  The brown haired man turned to face Kostya.

  Dimitri stepped out from behind the car door and made a hand gesture to Vlad, who in turn cracked his door open. Dimitri turned his attention to the heavyset man.

  The large man pulled a blackjack from his pants and taunted Dimitri. “You want some of this?” He bounced from foot to foot.

  Dimitri held up his hands and smiled. “No, can’t say that I do.”

  The big man took a failed swing at Dimitri.

  Dimitri jumped back. “That was uncalled for. Now I’m going to give you one warning. Put the weapon away.”

  The big man swung the blackjack and smashed in the rear window.

  Gianna screamed and the two men in the backseat cursed. Vlad’s door swung open.

  The heavy man shifted his gaze to the open door.

  Dimitri reached into his jacket and retrieved his Makarov 9 mm and fired a round into the big man’s shoulder. The blackjack dropped to the ground and the man fell against the car. Dimitri nodded to Vlad, who emerged from the car and grabbed the big man from behind after kicking his legs out from under him.

  The man at the front of the car froze at the sound of the gunshot. He looked back and gasped at the sight of his friend leaning against the rear fender, a puddle of blood pooling below him.

  “What the hell did you do?”

  “This.” Dimitri fired a single shot into the man’s head.

  Gianna screamed and fled from the car.

  “Shit,” Dimitri said. “Get her.”

  Kostya took off after Gianna and tackled her about fifty yards away. He dragged her back to the car by the back of her head, scraping her bare legs across the dirt road, bloodying her knees.

  Dimitri knelt in front of the woman. “Why did you run?”

  She didn’t answer him.

  “Only a guilty person would run.”

  She still didn’t answer him.

  Dimitri smiled at her. He lifted his arm behind him and fired a shot into the large man who’d come to her rescue.

  The man fell over and his blood leaked from the side of his head and mixed with the light brown dirt.

  Gianna screamed. “You monster!”

  “No more so than your friend Jack.”

  She shook her head.

  “Now tell me, where did he go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Dimitri slapped her. “Please don’t make me do that.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know. I got up and he was gone.”

  “Where was he going?”

  “He never told me.”

  Dimitri looked up at Kostya and nodded. Kostya took off his belt and handed it to Dimitri.

  “Tell me what I want to know.”

  Gianna clenched her teeth and released a guttural scream. “I don’t know.”

  Dimitri whipped the heavy leather belt across Gianna’s face.

  Her head snapped sideways, her body followed. She crashed into the ground. Her cheek was split open and her blood mixed with the dirt.

  Kostya leaned over and picked her up. Mud caked the side of her face. Blood flowed from her broken nose.

  “You have to tell me something,” Dimitri said. He cocked his arm back again.

  “GPS,” Gianna said.

  Dimitri lowered his arm. “What about GPS?”

  “He took my GPS unit from my car.”

  “Was any part of it left behind?”

  “Yeah,” she said breathlessly. “A mount. Still attached to the wind vents.”

  “Where is your car?”

  “Behind the store. And the box is still in the glove compartment.”

  Dimitri stood, stepped over the woman and took Kostya by the arm.

  “What are you thinking, Dimitri?”

  “Most commercial GPS units have some sort of unit ID,” he said. “If we can get that ID we might be able to track Noble.”

  Kostya nodded. “Put her in the car or—”

  “Kill her here,” Dimitri said.

  Gianna sobbed.

  “Wait.” Dimitri turned and held out his hand to stop Kostya.

  Giana wiped her face off and looked up at him, eyes wide, lips trembling.

  “Find her keys first,” Dimitri said.

  Gianna started crying and screaming.

  Kostya ripped at her clothes until he found her keys.

  Dimitri opened his car door and slid into the seat. Started the car and turned the radio up. It wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the shot that ended Gianna’s life.

  Half an hour later they pulled into the parking lot behind the small store where they abducted Gianna. Dimitri scanned the area. Empty but for the small car butted up against the back of the store. The lot was closed in on three sides. One way in, one way out. He hoped they weren’t spotted. Didn’t really feel like another fight today.

  “Guess that’s her car.” Kostya pointed at the sole car in the parking lot.

  Dimitri pulled up next to the small car. He looked at the men in the back seat. “Get out. Watch our backs. Anyone enters the lot, stop them.”

  “Yes, sir,” the men said in unison.

  “How do you want us to stop them?” Vlad asked.

  “Use your imagination,” Dimitri replied.

  Dimitri and Kostya got out of the car. Kostya unlocked Gianna’s car with the keys he took from the woman before executing her.

  “Grab the mount.” Dimitri said as he made his way to the other side of the car and waited for Kostya to unlock his door. The lock clicked up. Dimitri opened the passenger door and sat down in the seat. He opened the glove box and pulled out the flattened, folded box that once held the GPS unit. He opened the box and looked inside. The corners of his mouth turned upward as a smile swept across his face.

  “Look,” Dimitri said. “A sticker.”

  He pulled the box apart at one of the corners. Unfolded it and held it out for Kostya to inspect.

  “It’s a unit ID number,” Kostya said.

  “Excellent.”

  “I’ll call it in.”
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  “Let’s get out of here first,” Dimitri said.

  Dimitri started their vehicle and left the parking lot, making sure not to drive by the bar this time.

  Kostya pulled out his cell phone and started dialing.

  “Yeah, we need to see if you can track a GPS unit ID.” Kostya paused. “You can, that’s great.” He read off the unit ID and waited.

  “What are they doing?” Dimitri asked.

  Kostya shrugged.

  “OK, yeah you can reach me at this number anytime.” He hung up.

  “Well?” Dimitri held one hand up.

  “They are tracing the ID through a few satellites. Once they get a lock with one satellite, they’ll triangulate and call us back with a location.”

  Dimitri smiled as they left the town limits. “Excellent.”

  9

  Jack fiddled with the buttons of the GPS unit he borrowed from Gianna. He’d mounted it on the dash of the Jemma-mobile prior to leaving the hotel parking lot.

  Almost to Rome.

  He decided to bypass the city rather than go through the middle. The extra miles would add time, but so would traffic in Rome. Not to mention that there would be people who might have seen his picture. Getting stopped at every light in the city would ultimately lead to him being spotted. He fumbled with the GPS unit again while avoiding the lines of cars stacked around him.

  The GPS estimated three and a half hours until he reached Naples. He checked the gas gauge. Almost empty. Shit. He’d need to stop for gas. Last thing Jack wanted to do on this drive was stop near Rome. But he had no choice. He sighed and took the next exit, searched for a gas station. Five minutes later he found one.

  Jack pulled up to the pump, grabbed the nozzle and stuck it in the side of the car. He leaned back and stared at the little store.

  A couple of nearby teens pointed and laughed at him.

  “Nice car, Jemma,” one yelled.

  Jack nodded and waved. “Assholes,” he muttered.

  Two minutes later the tank was full. He restarted the car and parked in front of the store. He went in and followed the signs for the restroom.

 

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