Hunting for Caracas

by Anthony Fox

  ‘Where are they?’ Nina asked again.

  ‘They suffered from a lethal dose of comprehension.’

  ‘I’m serious. If you hurt them, I—’

  Stam held up a hand. ‘I had a man named Mr Proud torture your three friends to reveal all the information they had. Then they were killed.’

  Nina felt a sudden despair hit her heart like a battering ram against an old door. With all her strength she remained standing. She looked up at him. ‘How do I know you aren’t lying?’

  ‘Before they died they also told Mr Proud everything about you. Don’t be angry at them, they had no choice. I wasn’t surprised to find you here. You’re on the run, wanted for questioning, and you need help. It’s only logical you would throw yourself at the man that can provide that.’

  ‘How dare you…’

  ‘Does Roger Clayton know you were only a part of the group in Feldkirch so that you could spy on Phil Connelly?’

  Nina’s mind was spinning. She didn’t answer.

  ‘Did you know that Roger Clayton was Connelly’s half-brother?’

  This time Nina was unable to hide her surprise.

  ‘Clayton won’t be on your side once he finds out the truth. Don’t worry. You’re the lucky one. Your friends tried to hold out on me, but as long as you come with me now to my employer, I’ll have no reason to hurt you.’

  ***

  Alan T. Pincer stood over her.

  Assia Young lay sleeping in the white bed. The doctors had said she would eventually make a full recovery. As well as the knife wound to her chest, they had also attended to the new swelling around her knee.

  After her initial treatment in France the White Wolf had pulled a few strings when she was returned to England, and he had her relocated to a private hospital near Edinburgh that he owned.

  Pincer watched as the doctors finished and left the room.

  His soul felt heavy. He never had an idea of how the news of Matthews’ death would make him feel if the day ever came. Now that it had, now Matthews was dead, all Pincer could think about was Rudy. It was as though Matthews’ death finally brought home all the emotions Pincer had ignored since his partner Rudy perished.

  Pincer had set up Operation Matterhorn so Matthews could track and kill Rudy’s murderer. Matthews had succeeded in that respect and the enigma, the legend that was Caracas, was indeed no more.

  Yet although Pincer didn’t directly interfere with Operation Matterhorn, he used Phil Connelly, a man with a disloyal and corrupt track record, and Nina Arrow, well aware of her own motives despite her attempts to hide them. Kemi Zango was one of Pincer’s own assets and as the team’s sole communications and electronics expert she’d been perfectly placed to keep the White Wolf personally informed on every move the members of Operation Matterhorn made. Only Robert Paxman was innocently working for the sole operational objective of finding and stopping Luque.

  Pincer didn’t directly involve himself in Matthews’ quest, but had the circumstances which Pincer manipulated doomed any chance of its success? What would Rudy think if he were here now, or if he was looking down from high above?

  Bollocks, Pincer thought. Rudy was dead and his body was rotting with the worms in the ground, and that was the end of it.

  As for Phil Connelly, Pincer enjoyed keeping the man within his circle of control because he knew Connelly and Roger Clayton were related. The truth of this was buried deep, but not deep enough. Pincer knew Clayton may well be angry with him if he were to learn the truth of Connelly’s demise.

  Let him come at me, if he dares.

  Clayton didn’t know anything about Pincer’s true identity, and Pincer knew everything about Roger Clayton, for that was the only way the White Wolf operated.

  Alan Pincer’s mind steered back to the issue in hand as he looked down at Assia in the hospital bed. Why had he brought her here? It seemed he needed to see with his own eyes the woman that Matthews had been unable, unwilling, to cast aside. Perhaps he would notice something in her that the loyal son had noticed. Pincer spent so much of his time inside the office of his tower, that every once in a while he felt he needed to see things with his own eyes, just to be certain they were real. That he was real. That it wasn’t all just a sick game.

  Now satisfied, he knew what must be done. He looked up at the doctor waiting outside the room, ready to do what was necessary. This girl, unfortunately dragged into their world, would have to be killed. She knew too much. There were always casualties of war, each one more innocent than the last. And Pincer did not shy away from the fact that he was indeed at war.

  While Matthews was running after Caracas like a small boy chasing a girl in the school playground, Pincer was working on truly avenging Rudy. Matthews could concern himself with the foot soldiers, but Pincer knew that, just as if he himself wanted someone dead he picked up a phone instead of a gun, someone sat above Caracas pulling the strings. Pincer needed the person at the top, the one hiring Caracas and steering the assassin towards Rudy in the first place. For Pincer now believed that Rudy and his men coming into contact with Caracas was no combination of random events – it had been engineered. Pincer hadn’t wasted his time hunting Caracas: he was hunting the real enemy. And the hunt had uncovered some rather troubling revelations.

  The girl knows too much.

  As Pincer looked down at Assia and thoughts of Rudy refused to be shaken from his mind, the White Wolf found himself feeling that maybe just this once there’d been enough killing. The heaviness in his soul made him reject the idea of another execution. It was true, Assia knew too much; nothing could ever change that. Returning to civilisation was no longer an option for her, but as Pincer reread the file on Assia Young’s life, hastily compiled by his people, he wondered just how much normality she’d experienced in the past year. Thanks to Thailand and Matthews, she had lived through some very difficult situations with no preparation or training – and she had prevailed. She’d even conducted herself better than some of Pincer’s own junior hunters had, he thought gloomily as he read the police reports and agency intel.

  If Pincer couldn’t send Assia Young away, and if he wasn’t prepared to kill her, then it seemed to the White Wolf that he was left with only one option, crazy as it might seem.

  He would have to train her.