Hunting for Caracas

by Anthony Fox

‘It’s Mr DeMille. I’m ready for my close up,’ replied Matthews.

  Connelly opened the door just a fraction and looked through.

  At first Connelly looked confused at the sight of Assia and Charlie, then he laid eyes on Matthews just behind them and opened the door a little more.

  ‘Should I let these kids in?’ Connelly asked. Matthews could tell he was confused and anxious, heading for angry.

  ‘Quickly,’ replied Matthews.

  Connelly thought about it and then opened the door fully. Assia and Charlie, only when pushed forward by Matthews, took a few steps inside the apartment. Matthews crossed the threshold and was greeted by Kemi and Paxman. Connelly slammed the door behind them and Matthews heard the locks being turned.

  ‘Where the hell did you... who the hell are these people?’ Kemi, of all people, blurted out. That immediately gave Matthews an idea of the emotional state of the people inside the apartment.

  ‘Go and sit over there on the sofa,’ said Matthews to Assia and Charlie. He dropped Jenkins’ green backpack in the corner of the room. As they’d left the taxicab he’d added the knife to the bag’s contents, reminding himself now to take care of that little detail as soon as there was opportunity.

  ‘Don’t. Move,’ he told them.

  The couple did as they were told after dropping their bags on the floor.

  ‘Well,’ said Paxman, who until that point was stunned into silence. ‘It’s great to see you’ve already got ’em house-trained.’

  Matthews walked into the kitchen, took a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it with tap water. He drank the whole glass down and refilled it again. He looked into the cabinet next to the fridge and came out with a family-size bag of pretzels.

  Connelly, Paxman and Kemi all stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched him do this. Matthews opened the bag and stuffed a large handful of pretzels into his mouth, the salt making him feel better. Finally Connelly held his hands out in a ‘Start talking’ gesture.

  ‘So, I’m guessing after I left Kemi picked you two up and you just drove straight back here?’ Matthews said.

  ‘Actually we waited outside the train station but couldn’t see you, then we took off,’ said Kemi, now back to her usual sociable tone.

  ‘We called your phone a bunch of times too,’ said Connelly, and Matthews remembered his phone was still off.

  ‘How long you been back?’ said Matthews.

  ‘Five minutes,’ replied Kemi.

  ‘Where’s Jenkins?’ Connelly demanded, his expression hard. ‘Who the hell are these two you’ve brought to our apartment and let see our faces?’

  Matthews thought it through. They couldn’t have waited at the station long, probably got twitchy after losing Jenkins, and must’ve left right before Matthews, Assia and Charlie came out. Matthews might have even beaten them back here if not for ditching the taxi and walking the last leg of the journey.

  ‘How the hell did you lose Jen... the target?’ Matthews countered, gesturing towards Assia and Charlie, who were within earshot.

  Connelly took a step closer to Matthews. ‘If you didn’t want those two kids to hear our business you shouldn’t have brought them here,’ he retorted, his voice low and threatening.

  Matthews held Connelly’s stare a moment, then turned and took two more glasses from the cabinet. He filled them with water and walked over to Assia and Charlie, who were sat on the couch and seemed to be trying very hard to make themselves invisible.

  Matthews handed them the water and the rest of the bag of pretzels. He pointed to one of the bedrooms and told them to stay in there until someone came to talk to them.

  After they’d closed the door behind them Matthews turned back to the group. They were already clearly upset, given that Matthews had brought two unknowns to their safe house, and they didn’t even know the whole story yet.

  ‘Jenkins is dead,’ he told them.

  The three members of Operation Matterhorn looked stunned.

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘More important, how’d you lose a guy out in broad daylight?’

  ‘We, we don’t know,’ conceded Paxman. ‘It was the strangest thing.’

  ‘Jenkins is dead?’ Connelly interrupted.

  Matthews sighed. ‘I went to the station and saw Jenkins getting on a train,’ he began.

  ‘Alone. Splitting off from the team. What made you think that was a good idea?’ Connelly said.

  ‘I thought,’ said Matthews, ‘as you lost Jenkins we needed to do something to find him before having to tell the White Wolf we’d lost our lead.’ Matthews’ words definitely rocked Connelly as both stood their ground and they glared at each other. ‘I followed Jenkins on the train and he attacked me. From nowhere. Just went straight for me with a knife.’

  ‘He must’ve seen you comin’,’ said Paxman. ‘How did you survive?’

  ‘Again, why you thought after he gave us the slip that you were capable of tailing him undetected is idiotic!’ spat Connelly.

  But I am capable, extremely capable.

  ‘I was just trying to get a line back on him,’ Matthews explained. ‘Jenkins attacked me, I just panicked and grabbed hold of him, we both fell on the floor and Jenkins suddenly stopped moving. I managed to get him off me and the knife must’ve slipped when we fell. It stuck straight into his chest.’ Matthews did his best to look disturbed by the memory.

  ‘And you didn’t get a scratch on you?’ Connelly asked coolly.

  Matthews looked down at the small cut made by the knife on his sleeve and noticed a few spots of blood on his shoulder. ‘Got lucky, I guess.’

  ‘A guy like that attackin’ you. I’d say you got real lucky,’ said Paxman.

  Matthews just nodded along.

  ‘Are you alright?’ asked Kemi.

  ‘I am now.’

  ‘So what happened next?’ Kemi again.

  ‘I got up off the floor and saw these two’ – Matthews pointed to the room Assia and Charlie were in – ‘just staring at me. They said Jenkins grabbed them. I guess he was going to use them if I’d attacked him first.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘Carriage was quiet. I left the body in the cabin and broke the handle off the door. Should buy us some time.’

  ‘How much time?’ Kemi asked.

  ‘Not long,’ replied Paxman.

  ‘And those two?’ Connelly asked. ‘You couldn’t just scare the crap out of them and leave them in the middle of nowhere?’

  ‘No way to guarantee their silence. Time is crucial now,’ Matthews warned them. ‘Once Luque figures out Jenkins isn’t turning up, he’ll run. It was the sensible thing to do, bringing them here.’

  ‘Sensible?’ Connelly hissed.

  ‘Yes. I figure we’ve got a couple of hours at most,’ said Matthews. ‘We need to move in on Luque now whilst he doesn’t suspect anything.’

  Connelly seemed to be thinking it through. He glanced at his watch and moved to the coat stand by the door. ‘Firstly we need to relieve Nina and tell her what’s happened. I’ll go and take watch while she comes back here and you update her. I don’t want any of this mentioned over the phone.’ Connelly grabbed his jacket from the stand and made for the door handle.

  Matthews turned to him. ‘Why don’t we all just go over there now?’ he suggested. ‘Then we’re there to go after Luque.’

  Connelly stepped forward and squared right up to Matthews. ‘Look, Matthews, this is all just trying to fix your mess. Once Nina’s back and knows what’s going on, you all drive over and meet me.’

  For a moment Matthews considered standing toe to toe with Connelly. Then, remembering the other people in the room, thought better of it.

  ‘What about those two?’ Paxman asked.

  ‘On my way I’ll call the White Wolf. He needs to know what’s happened. It’ll be his decision.’ Connelly rushed out and slammed the door behind him.

  They turned from the door and went back into the lounge. Kemi and Paxman struck up a c
onversation between themselves. Matthews calmly walked over to the big cross window at the end of the lounge that overlooked the front street. He thought perhaps Kemi or Paxman were trying to engage him in conversation, but he wasn’t interested.

  Matthews spotted Connelly appearing in the driveway below. The American reached the end of the drive and headed off down the street, walking quickly. Matthews noted Connelly’s phone was to his ear, no doubt calling Nina.

  Leaving his position near the window, Matthews moved back into the lounge. He went over to the coat stand and took his own jacket, opening the door.

  ‘Just stepping out for a minute,’ he told Kemi and Paxman. ‘Need some fresh air.’

  He was out of the door before they had a chance to reply, and ran down the stairs.

  Why hadn’t he taken the car? was all Matthews could think as he left the apartment. If Phil Connelly had gone to switch with Nina and take over the surveillance of Luque, why hadn’t he taken the car?

  33

  Charlie and Assia were silent. It was safe to say Charlie was no longer concerned about the fact that he’d lost the bet and was wearing a pair of women’s pink, frilly panties, even as incredibly uncomfortable as they still were. He sat on the end of the bed feeling worse than he’d ever felt. In any other situation he would have laid down and instantly passed out.

  How they’d gone from dozing on the train, nursing a mean hangover and being excited about what Vienna had in store for them, to this? Not a care in the world until a seriously shabby-looking man with a rough American accent and a knife burst into their cabin and threatened them. Then, even more bizarre and terrifying, a small, unassuming older man came in and attacked the guy with the knife. Charlie was sure the small man was stabbed, then all of a sudden the lanky American was dead instead.

  The way, the speed which the older man moved, it didn’t seem plausible. He looks like a tired, crumpled salesman.

  And now he and Assia were being held captive here.

  All he could picture was the pool of blood.

  Charlie looked over at Assia. She had gravitated to the shadows cast by the wardrobe next to the window. He reflected that she was handling the situation much better than he was. It was embarrassing.

  Poor Assia. This is the last thing she needs.

  There was a noise at the door and the small woman with the frizzy hair and the happy face appeared.

  Just the sound of Kemi entering made Charlie flinch.

  ‘Where’s the girl?’ the woman asked as she anxiously looked left, then right around the room.

  ‘I’m here,’ said a quiet voice. A moment later Charlie saw Assia step out of the small patch of darkness in the corner of the room.

  ‘Oh, there you are,’ said the woman. ‘Do you two need anything?’

  ‘Could we have our bags?’ Assia asked.

  ‘Sorry. But not at the moment.’ She sounded genuinely apologetic.

  ‘Just some more water then, please.’

  ‘Of course.’

  The small lady left and Assia went back into her corner.

  Charlie liked the lady. She seemed to have a kind nature. He liked her English accent too, which reminded him of home. Charlie heard their voices as they’d argued. The lady was English, the small man who brought them here had an even voice with an accent that could have been from anywhere. The other two men had distinct American accents and Assia said there was something ‘off’ about one of them – the taller, athletic one who had answered the door. Charlie didn’t respond. In his opinion there was plenty ‘off’ about all of them, and about this whole wretched situation.

  What on earth was going on?

  34

  Matthews kept to the shadows. The hood from his jacket now covered his head, to shield his face.

  He followed Connelly for forty-five minutes as he wandered the streets on the poorer outskirts of Feldkirch and, like Jenkins earlier in the day, used sudden, unexpected changes of direction, checking behind him in the reflection of shop windows, entering busy bars or restaurants and merging with the crowd, to try and shake any tail. Standard counter-surveillance techniques. However, knowing Connelly’s background, Matthews considered these movements to be lacklustre and essentially unsuccessful. Clearly he was preoccupied with other things.

  Matthews continued to follow his quarry through dark, quiet streets to an abandoned-looking industrial estate he was certainly unfamiliar with. At that point Matthews could be sure of only one thing. Connelly was definitely not heading to Luque’s Floriani Guesthouse in the city centre.

  Using the shadows as cover wasn’t difficult as they were in a poorly lit area, and the cloudy sky offered little if any moonlight. It seemed as if every other streetlight was broken as Matthews was careful to avoid any broken glass or litter that would highlight his presence. The landscape had changed dramatically from the upper-class housing area their apartment was situated in. There was nobody else around.

  Matthews poked his head around the corner and saw Connelly moving into open ground between two long, brick factory buildings. He appeared to be unsure for the first time of where he was going.

  Matthews watched as Connelly looked this way and that and then, perhaps noting what he was looking for, confidently headed to his left through a small gap between two of the buildings.

  Something told Matthews not to follow Connelly to the open ground, so he quickly doubled back to the previous corner, took a left, then another left at the corner after, and stayed crouched as he moved down a dark alley.

  Up ahead he was surprised to be able to make out three figures in the shadows.

  A soft flutter of noise told him they were talking quietly.

  As Matthews moved closer and closer he could tell one of the figures was a lot bigger and taller than the other two.

  Silently he edged as close as he felt comfortable, crouched right down and moved his body in against the wall to where Matthews was confident he couldn’t be seen.

  His worst thoughts were realised.

  Up ahead Matthews could see Phil Connelly.

  To one side was a man. It was difficult for Matthews to make too much out in the dark, but he could see the man was of average height and build, dressed completely in black, and plain-looking except for his unforgettably tall, spiky blonde hair, so even on top it reminded Matthews of a perfectly trimmed garden hedge.

  Matthews was confident he’d never met or seen the man before. But he recognised the type by the posture, the physique, the way the man held himself.

  Black market hired help. Ex-military. Expensive. Often brought in at short notice to carry out high-risk, one-off jobs.

  The man carried a rectangular bag over one shoulder. The bag appeared to be perfectly fitted around the contents, and from the way it hung Matthews guessed whatever was inside was heavy.

  Matthews definitely recognised the last person in the group. He stood six inches taller than the other two and almost as wide as the two other men combined. Luque handed something to Connelly that Matthews thought could be a duffle bag and the two exchanged a few last words.

  After pointing a threatening finger at Connelly’s chest, Luque and the other man walked away and disappeared from Matthews’ view. Something about the heavy bag the spiky-haired man was carrying gave Matthews an uneasy feeling. But there was no time to dwell on it.

  Connelly was left standing alone.

  Matthews waited a beat until it was clear, and moved forward. Connelly dropped the bag from Luque on the ground, and opened it up. He searched through the bag. Apparently satisfied, he closed it back up and slung it over his shoulder. Then he looked both ways as Matthews took a few more steps and moved out into the light of a fading street lamp. Only then did Connelly see someone was there.

  In a flash Connelly reached a hand down into his waistband and came back up holding a gun, the weapon held straight out in front and pointed at Matthews.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Connelly called out. He took a few steps forward himself a
nd then relaxed and lowered the gun.

  ‘Jesus, Matthews, that you? You scared the hell out of me,’ he said. ‘How on earth did you follow me here?’

  Matthews noted all the anger Connelly displayed towards him back at the apartment had vanished.

  ‘I was trained a lot better than you were,’ Matthews replied. He lowered his hood and straightened up so they were facing each other, no more than a few feet apart. ‘Where’d you get the gun?’ Matthews noted absently it was a 9mm pistol with an Eco-9 suppressor. The pistol was almost certainly a Walther P88, although it was difficult to tell in the dark. If correct, that represented a ten-round magazine. Of course, none of that mattered if Connelly fired the pistol straight at Matthews from this close a range.

  From this range, a gun was a gun.

  Connelly didn’t answer at first. But he put the gun back in his waistband. ‘Whatever you think you saw—’ started Connelly.

  ‘Save it. I know what’s going on. How much is in the bag?’

  ‘Five hundred thousand euros,’ said Connelly with pleasure.

  ‘Sonofabitch! You sold us out. When we tracked Luque through Feldkirch and you broke into his hotel room, you didn’t hide across the corridor when Luque came back, did you? You didn’t run out of time with the camera.’

  Connelly hitched the bag into a more comfortable position on his back. ‘Actually, I did run out of time. Maybe that’s what made my mind up. But, come on, I found a bag full of cash. I mean full. What would you have done?’

  ‘Goddammit, Connelly!’ Matthews burst out. ‘Do you have any idea who we’re dealing with here? You have any idea what you’ve done?’

  ‘’Course I do. There was a gun in the money bag as well. I waited in the room for Luque to return and I confronted him. You should have seen the look on his face.’ Connelly laughed. ‘I’ve gotta say, we did a good job up to that point. He’d no idea we were on to him.’

  Matthews could feel a rage building inside him. ‘Luque, where’s he gone?’

  ‘Can’t tell you that,’ said Connelly. ‘And it’s time for me to leave as well. Have a nice life, Matthews.’ Connelly moved to walk by but Matthews stepped across him, blocking his path.