Hunting for Caracas

by Anthony Fox

  Connelly stopped and sighed. ‘It’s too late, Matthews. Just get out of my way and I won’t hurt you.’

  Matthews clenched his fists. This was more to control his anger than to prepare for conflict. The tall and muscular Connelly dropped the bag from his shoulder and frowned. ‘Last chance,’ he said.

  Connelly moved forward and there was a quick flurry of arms as the two men engaged. Matthews landed a few, quick blows, finished with a brutal push-kick to Connelly’s sternum that sent him hurtling backwards through the air and crashing to the ground. From one particular punch a red welt could be seen instantly on Connelly’s left eye socket. Another of the blows made the American clutch an arm across his ribs in pain.

  Connelly’s eyes were wide and he suddenly seemed to remember something. Reaching a hand for his waistband and finding nothing, he looked frantically around him until his eyes fixed on the feet of the man stood in front of him. Connelly moved his eyes up from Matthews’ feet to his right hand. Matthews saw the disbelief that not only was Connelly down, he’d also in the same instant been disarmed without even realising. Matthews held the gun lose by his side as Connelly’s eyes widened further.

  ‘Who are you?’ Connelly asked.

  Matthews stood motionless.

  ‘Just an intelligence analyst, is it? Still want to tell me Jenkins just fell on his knife?’

  Matthews’ eyes narrowed as he raised the gun and aimed it at the forehead of the man on the floor at his feet.

  ‘Your time for questions is over, Connelly,’ he said. ‘What’s your deal with Luque?’

  Just play for time until you can think of something, that’s what he’ll be thinking, Matthews knew.

  ‘I told Luque I was part of a team who’d tracked him down. I showed him I’d found the money and the code. Told him it wouldn’t take us long to break it and then we’d know what he was up to. I said I was taking his money and he shouldn’t bother to come looking for it.’

  Matthews knew it wouldn’t have been too difficult for Connelly to hide the duffle bag with the money in. Paxman would obviously have been waiting out the front. Matthews guessed Connelly could have easily slipped out of the back door quickly and hidden it next to the bins, or anywhere, and just gone back to collect it later on.

  ‘The money!’ raged Matthews. ‘People’re going to die, have died, and all you care about is money.’

  ‘Who’s died? Jenkins? Who cares about that scumbag? I knew there was something up with you from the beginning. What haven’t you been telling us?’

  ‘Shut up!’ Matthews spat back. He could see by the expression on Connelly’s face there was more. He stiffened his posture and pointed to the duffel bag. ‘And this?’

  Connelly sighed and put a hand to his left eye, which was swelling shut.

  ‘Luque told me about Jenkins and offered me a million if I made sure Jenkins got clear of us.’

  ‘Which is why you lost him on purpose earlier today.’

  ‘Of course I did. Had to make sure Bob saw him as well so it wouldn’t look too suspicious. Then I simply let him walk away and made it look like Bob and I got ourselves mixed up. Now, just put the gun down.’

  Matthews thought about what had happened to him on the train after that. ‘How’d Jenkins know I was following him?’

  Connelly edged his body forward a little. ‘When Kemi said you’d run off after Jenkins, I sent a message to Luque. He must have contacted Jenkins somehow.’

  Matthews could hear the desperation creeping into Connelly’s voice now. He gripped the gun so tightly it began to slip from his grip. He was starting to lose control.

  Just shoot him. He betrayed you, which means he betrayed Rudy. He doesn’t deserve to live.

  ‘Stop! Wait!’ Connelly whimpered with his hand in front of his face and eyes partially closed. ‘Don’t shoot me, Matthews. You can’t shoot me in cold blood. That’s not you.’

  You don’t know the first thing about me.

  But Connelly was right. Matthews relaxed his grip just a fraction and thought everything through. ‘What did Luque say when you told him Jenkins was dead? Why didn’t he just kill you here?’

  Connelly didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. Matthews could tell he was holding something back.

  ‘Tell me now, or swear to God I’ll shoot you,’ Matthews told him.

  ‘He was angry. Obviously. He gave me half the money and said I’d get the rest if... if...’ Connelly couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. But Matthews wasn’t about to let him off, so he took a deep breath. ‘He said I’d get the rest if I told him the location of our safe house.’

  ‘Tell me you didn’t,’ said Matthews. But he already knew.

  ‘I had to. Luque was furious when I told him you’d killed Jenkins. I thought for a moment I’d have to kill him and forget about the money. But then he gave me the bag and said I’d get the rest after he’d checked it out.’

  He thought he might kill Luque?

  Matthews couldn’t believe the arrogance of this man, even after everything that’d happened.

  ‘You know you won’t get the rest of the money. He’s just going to kill you.’

  Just shoot him yourself now. He betrayed you, he betrayed the team.

  ‘Of course he is,’ agreed Connelly, ‘but by then I’ll be long gone.’

  ‘Did you mention the White Wolf?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What do you know about him?’

  ‘Same as you. Absolutely nothing.’ Connelly must have noticed something shift in Matthews. ‘But that’s not true either, is it?’ Connelly said. ‘You know who the White Wolf is.’

  Matthews had kept a close hold on his emotions ever since the team first formed. But after today his anger was ready to spill over.

  ‘Why, Connelly?’

  ‘Luque just wants the names and faces of the people tracking him. He’s going to the safe house to see them for himself. That’s it.’

  ‘AND YOU BELIEVE THAT?’ Matthews roared, unable to contain himself any longer. He was beginning to shake. All the emotion he’d been bottling up... His eyes fogged over as faces began to come forward in his mind.

  First was Rudy’s, of course, but it was soon replaced by Kemi, Paxman and Nina. People whose lives were entrusted to him. Then his mind shifted to the horrible thought of the young couple. Assia and Charlie were at the apartment, taken there by him. They were innocent, wanted nothing to do with this. At first he pictured these faces in an animated way. Alive. But then they all changed, one at a time, and all the faces of the people back at the apartment turned cold and still and lifeless. He thought of the pain, and anguish, and blood.

  A single loud pop swiftly brought Matthews back to his conscious self and he felt heat in the palm of his hand that held the pistol.

  Modern guns use smokeless powder, Matthews knew, but a tiny wisp of smoke can still be seen immediately after firing. Matthews was looking at such a wisp of smoke now coming from the end of the suppressor. The sight as obvious and familiar to him over the years as the steam from a kettle to most people.

  He looked down from the gun he was holding to the body slumped on the ground. A thin line of blood was working its way from the stationary body, along the grey concrete floor towards the duffle bag. Only then did Matthews fully register that he’d fired the gun. Only then did he realise Phil Connelly was dead. He looked at the thin red line as it grew longer.

  Matthews turned and walked away from Connelly’s body, dazed. Usually in this situation he would make certain his tracks couldn’t be followed. But, despite all his experience, Matthews was stupefied. He had fired his weapon at an unarmed man.

  He betrayed you. You were so close to finding Caracas, to avenging Rudy, and he ruined everything. He deserved to die.

  He needed to move.

  Luque knew the location of the apartment in Feldkirch. He could already be there.

  Matthews dashed to a busier street not far from the industrial estate, and removed a phone
from his pocket. So dazed was he by current events at that time, he didn’t realise that of all the phones in his possession, the one he’d taken out was the phone taken from the young man, Charlie, when he’d searched his clothes on the train. Matthews had memorised the number of a local taxi firm in Feldkirch, as he did in every city he visited. He knew he shouldn’t be using a phone at a time like this, as the call could be traced, but he decided to take the risk. The only thing that mattered now was getting back to the apartment as quickly as he could. Luque was going to kill them all.

  35

  Her drive back to the apartment was boring and uneventful.

  Connelly’s voice sounded normal on the phone as he told Nina he was in position further up the street, and with a good view of Luque’s guest house.

  Even though she wasn’t able to see him, Nina had every reason to believe Connelly was there. So she turned the car around and drove off. In no rush, she’d taken her time cruising through the streets for a while.

  It was only when she walked into the apartment and looked at the faces of Kemi and Paxman that Nina realised something was wrong.

  At first they bombarded her with questions: was Connelly definitely watching Luque, as the rental car was still outside in the parking space? Did she know where Matthews was? He’d walked out shortly after Connelly without explanation and hadn’t returned.

  That was over an hour ago.

  Then they ran through what’d happened.

  They’d lost Jenkins in Innsbruck.

  Matthews went after him and now Jenkins was dead.

  There was also a young civilian couple locked away in one of the bedrooms.

  And now Connelly and Matthews had marched out of the apartment and disappeared.

  Nina still hadn’t mentioned to anyone what happened the other night when she’d heard the voice on Matthews’ iPod. The man’s voice she thought referred to following Luque. Nina wanted to get Kemi alone first, to get her opinion on the matter. After what’d happened today she now knew she’d have to bring it to everyone’s attention as soon as Connelly returned.

  The same thought that she’d had sitting up in bed the night of listening to Matthews’ iPod came back to her. The thought had stayed with Nina since. It was like a lump growing bigger and bigger inside her.

  Am I in over my head here?

  Nina walked towards the window at the front of the apartment, trying to make sense of things.

  Paxman sat on the sofa in the lounge, his head in his hands.

  Kemi went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

  Nina stood against the wall where she could peek out of the window at the street below through the tall cherry trees. The ground outside was littered with the leaves of the surrounding trees and they danced lazily in the evening breeze.

  A phone started ringing somewhere in the apartment.

  She slowly became aware of a man standing on the opposite side of the street facing the apartment, his body almost concealed behind a large tree.

  He wasn’t concealed entirely by the tree because the man was enormous. Even in the night Nina could see the bald head and thick shoulders.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Luque? Impossible.

  Paxman answered the ringing phone. ‘Matthews? Where are you? A taxi?’ He paused to listen. ‘Oh no. Are you sure?’

  Luque signalled to someone directly below Nina. She tried to look but couldn’t see anyone else from where she was stood.

  ‘Guys, quick, we have a serious problem,’ called Nina to Paxman and Kemi as she spun from the window.

  That was when the wall behind Nina Arrow exploded.

  Am I in over my head? was the last thought she remembered.

  36

  The noise was all-consuming.

  The explosion blew out a hole in the apartment’s front wall and caused a chunk of the ceiling to collapse with it.

  Kemi initially heard Nina scream as she was crushed and buried beneath a pile of bricks.

  She also saw the sofa Paxman was sat on lifted up and thrown sideways into the low partition wall that separated the lounge from the kitchen.

  As she’d been standing in the small kitchen on the far side of the apartment, Kemi was able to duck behind the partition wall as debris from the explosion rained down upon her.

  She stayed crouched for a long moment. The noise and force rendered all her senses inoperable. Curled in a ball on the floor, she was afraid to move. The ringing in her ears gradually subsided and she breathed in a lungful of dust and smoke.

  Kemi raised herself a little and felt the debris fall off her to the floor.

  She rolled, sat up against the kitchen counter and tried to focus.

  Through the blur, the first thing she saw was Paxman as he crawled around the wall and scuttled like a giant rat towards her on all fours.

  Knowing he was still alive and she was not alone brought a small sense of relief.

  He crawled to her and she thought he asked if she was OK. Kemi nodded and tried to say ‘Yes’, but wasn’t sure if the word came out.

  Any exposed skin on Paxman’s face and neck or around his hands and arms was black with dust and mixed with streaks of sweat.

  She watched as Paxman made for the cupboard under the sink where they’d hidden a Browning hi-power pistol. He reached in and turned a moment later, holding the pistol, a semi-automatic which contained thirteen rounds.

  He went over to Kemi and did a physical check for any injuries she might have sustained. Kemi tried to tell him she was fine but Paxman persisted, and when he’d satisfied himself that she was unhurt, he sat back against the counter and put a hand to the back of his head. He brought the hand round to look at it and Kemi saw blood on his palm. At the same time she noticed a deep red stain on his trouser leg covering his left thigh.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Kemi’s question didn’t seem to register with Paxman as he sat back and breathed heavily, his eyes darting in several directions at once.

  She grabbed at his arm to get his attention and waited until he was looking at her. ‘Nina?’ Kemi tried to ask.

  Paxman shook his head.

  Dead, he mouthed.

  Kemi raised herself to a crouch and poked her head up over the kitchen counter. She suddenly felt sick.

  The apartment has exploded!

  Nina was gone.

  Her initial shock now giving way to panic, Kemi could suddenly think of only one thing.

  We have to get out! We have to get out! We have to get out!

  She stood and moved past Paxman and headed for the door.

  Paxman attempted to grab her leg but was unable to get a hold and Kemi heard him shout something through the noise. She ignored the words and walked shaken and unbalanced through the heavy smoke, colliding with the walls as she felt her way, and reached the main door.

  Kemi fumbled with the lock but finally got it and flung the door open, and was greeted with the sight of the barrel of a black handgun that was pointed directly at her.

  She didn’t even have the chance to stop in surprise. The bullet hit her full in the face and made the quick journey through her skull to where it burst out at the back of her head, taking with it bone and brain. Kemi’s dead body dropped to the floor as Paxman watched helplessly.

  ***

  Burning embers danced through the air all around, some alight with life, others black and charred with death. Paxman raised himself to one knee and felt some reassurance in the pistol he was holding. Beyond the doorway he couldn’t see much else through the smoke.

  Paxman’s thoughts immediately centred on his own survival. He could hear the alarms, sounding like some kind of drone soundtrack to an apocalyptic nightmare. He held his breath now and raised the pistol, looking for any signs of movement through the dark smoke.

  Paxman crouched behind the counter and waited.

  He saw a figure through the smoke as it moved in through the doorway and surveyed the pit of destruction that was the
apartment.

  Paxman held his aim steady, waiting for the figure to pause just for a brief moment so he could fire. He knew he was still suffering from the effects of the explosion, guessing he had concussion as well as other injuries, and too late Paxman noticed the intruder was wearing night vision goggles. The first thing that caught Paxman’s attention was the spiky hair that stood ramrod-straight atop the figure’s head. Only when the head turned at an angle towards him could Paxman make out the distinctive shape of the goggles around the eyes in the smoke-filled room.

  Paxman knew he’d raised his body just a fraction too much in anticipation of getting his shot off first. The intruder fired just ahead of Paxman.

  ***

  Russo paused a beat after firing. Waiting for any signs of movement. Prepared for any retaliation.

  He worked for an outfit of Eastern Europeans across the border in Slovenia. All ex-military. All professional.

  He was hired for one night’s work, and told the people in the apartment would be unarmed. Bad information, it seemed. No matter, there was more of a thrill to killing a man with a gun in his hand.

  He cautiously moved through to the kitchen and found only a still body. He checked for a pulse but found none. The body must be that of Paxman, whom Connelly had told them about outside the warehouse. Paxman was now dead.

  Russo turned and headed back to the living room. Easily seeing through the night vision googles that it was empty, he moved on to the bedrooms. The giant man who was paying him had been very specific. Leave no survivors. After the distraction of the explosion, this was nothing more than shooting fish in a barrel.

  Easy money.

  Each bedroom took only seconds to check. Russo looked under the bed of the first two rooms, and then came to the third. He walked over to the bed and crouched down to look underneath.

  A young man was curled into a ball, his hands over his ears and his eyes shut tight, sobbing like a small, frightened child.