by Mark Arundel
Geoffrey looked scared but he managed a nod followed by an unconvincing smile. I tried to grin encouragingly.
The sound of someone banging on the outside door with something heavy reverberated through the building. They would be inside in a matter of seconds.
‘Stay in here. If anyone comes in who you think is going to kill you, shoot them.’ Geoffrey’s face was white but his eyes were clear and determined. ‘But don’t shoot me,’ I reminded.
I went out through the door in the far corner, stood at the top of the stairs and listened. They were still hitting the front door. I moved quickly down the flight of stairs to the next landing where I saw two closed doors. I stopped at the top of the stairs and heard the front door crash inwards. I couldn’t see, but I heard two men enter. They moved slowly, probably checking out the ground floor before approaching the stairs.
My plan was to wait until they were both climbing the stairs and then step out at the top and shoot them dead. Not particularly inventive but, I hoped, effective.
I held my Glock ready and concentrated on hitting the front man first and then the second man with one shot each. As I heard the first man begin to climb, he spoke to his partner. He said, ‘He’s probably not here anyway.’ It wasn’t what he said that made me change my plan but the language and the accent in which he said it. You see he wasn’t Russian, he was British.
I had to both re-evaluate and decide immediately. I remained out of sight and in a clear, loud voice called out, ‘Armed bodyguard. Identify yourself and state your business.’
I listened. Both men stopped. There was silence. Then the British voice called back, ‘Treadwell and Baines from the British consulate. We’re looking for Geoffrey Button.’
Did that sound plausible? I decided maybe. I called out, ‘State your purpose.’
The British voice came back, ‘To take him into safe custody at the consulate.’
‘Are you armed?’
‘No.’
'Do you have identification?’
‘Yes.’
Again, I had to make a quick decision. Did I believe them? Did I trust them? There was silence while I considered.
The British voice called out, ‘Are you there?’
I answered with a question. ‘On whose authority are you acting?’
There was a pause and then the answer came back. ‘The consulate-general, Jeremy Davenport.’
I was hoping to hear a name I’d recognise such as Winchester, Bradshaw or even Charlotte Miller. I didn’t know Jeremy Davenport and I didn’t know whether he was the consulate-general of Tenerife.
I made my decision. I said, ‘Walk around to the front of the apartment and hold up your identifications. I’ll look at them from the balcony.’
‘Is this really necessary?’
‘Do it.’
I heard them turn around, walk back down and go outside. I ran upstairs and called out to Geoffrey, ‘It’s me, don’t shoot.’ Trusting that he’d heard me I opened the door and went in. He was kneeling behind the sofa with his face and the barrel of the Glock peeking over like a boy playing cowboys and Indians.
He said, ‘What’s happening?’
I didn’t have time to explain. I said, ‘Get behind the sofa and stay there out of sight until I tell you that it’s safe. Do it now.’ Geoffrey did as I ordered.
I didn’t go out onto the balcony to see Treadwell and Baines and to look at their identifications. Instead, I went and stood beside the closed door. When opened, it would conceal my presence. I stood motionless and waited.
If Treadwell and Baines were genuine then hanging about outside for a minute or two might cause them mild irritation, but if they weren’t genuine then it might just save Geoffrey’s life. I stood behind the door and continued to wait. I listened carefully and gripped the loaded Glock. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear the British voice call out from below the balcony. I was enjoying my newfound job and maybe I didn’t want it to end just yet. I needn’t have worried.
The slow footsteps on the stairs were easy to hear and nobody had shouted from outside. I prepared myself.
The door swung open slowly. A man crept into the room and out in front he held a pistol. I sensed unfriendly intent. His movement was cautious and the pointing gun indicated his readiness to fire. Perhaps he was just protecting himself. Perhaps he was set to kill. I wasn’t going to stop and ask him which. He was a big man with heavy shoulders beneath a tasteless patterned shirt. He was on his own and I didn’t want to alarm his partner immediately with a gunshot, so I decided to knock him unconscious.
As he stepped clear of the door I pushed it away and leapt forward with my arm already swinging. I aimed the butt of the Glock at the temple area above his ear. He reacted fast for such a big man and managed to tilt his head, which saved him from the full force of the blow. The butt struck where I intended but his defensive movement caused the strike to deflect off his skull and left him only wounded and still dangerous.
He attempted to raise his gun. I grabbed his wrist, which brought our bodies close together. Instantly, I felt his strength and it made me adjust my footing. I aimed the second blow with the Glock, which, this time, he failed to defend, and the butt struck him hard on the forehead. I felt some of his strength ebb away and I managed to twist his arm, which caused his gun to drop to the floor. He was not yet beaten. As I twisted my arm back to inflict the knockout strike, he rolled his weight forward and flung out his foot in a backwards kick, which struck me just below the knee causing my standing leg to buckle. I went down unable to complete my swing. He pulled away from me and lunged for his gun. I had two options. With the Glock still in my hand, I could shoot him or, more dangerously for me, I could leap on him and wrestle it out. I probably should have chosen to shoot him but instead found myself diving on top of him. He tried to elbow me in the stomach but I was expecting it. As he turned and lifted himself, slamming back his arm, I was already moving away and raising my own arm. His failure to make contact with me extended his momentum and made him arch his back and neck as he fought to keep his head up. It produced an easy target. I cracked the butt into the back of his head and he slumped like a drunk and sprawled over the floor. He was not out cold but not conscious either like a boxer on the canvas after a series of knockdown punches.
Geoffrey was peeping over the back of the sofa. I hurriedly whispered, ‘Get down.’
If Treadwell and Baines were there to kill Geoffrey then I figured one of them would go outside, under the balcony, while the other crept back in and made a surprise attack from behind. It seemed they had done exactly that. I was now expecting the second man to enter the apartment and come up the stairs gun first, as well. I didn’t have much time. Grabbing the big man by his ankles, I raised his legs and dragged him into the corner of the room out of sight behind the door. I stood behind the closed door again and waited.
It wasn’t long before I heard the slow footsteps on the stairs and a British voice call out softly, ‘Bob, Bob.’ The door swung open gently, I saw fingers around the edge and then they let go. The man stopped in the doorway. I didn’t hesitate and slammed the door shut with all my strength using both arms and my shoulder. I heard and felt the smack. Without a moment’s delay, I pulled the door clear and attacked. The man was smaller than his partner was and wore a plain white shirt. He was dazed from the strike to his head but still held his gun. I moved on him rapidly, gripped his gun hand by the wrist and pushed it upwards and away. At the same time, I landed a heavy blow using the butt of my Glock to his jaw. His head snapped back and his face turned loose and unfocused. He stumbled once and then dropped without knowing it. The marble floor made for a heavy landing.
Having disabled them both, I acted fast. I collected both pistols and called out to Geoffrey. ‘You can come out.’ His head appeared first and then he stood up and came around from behind the sofa. ‘Put these in your bag.’ I gave him the pistols. ‘Change your shirt to one with a different colour and if you’ve got a hat, wear i
t. Be ready to leave in one minute.’ He nodded and looked at the two unconscious men.
‘Are they dead?’ he asked.
I didn’t answer; I was too busy going through their pockets. I found two British passports. One was in the name of Robert Treadwell and the other Andrew Baines. I didn’t find any consulate identifications or any other identification at all. I did find something very interesting, however. In their pockets, they both had a K106. Geoffrey returned wearing a light blue shirt and a straw hat. He certainly looked different, which was what I wanted. I showed him the K106s.
‘They’re like yours,’ he said.
Treadwell, the big man was beginning to come round. He moved his heavy body and made a groaning noise that sounded like a water buffalo.
I considered whether I should kill him and his partner. I had to decide fast. It would be simple with a single bullet each to the brain.
Was I a cold-blooded killer? Did I need to kill them? Did Geoffrey need to see me do it?
I looked down at the Glock in my hand. The water buffalo moaned again and I made my decision. I put the Glock away in my waistband and said, ‘Geoffrey, let’s go.’
At the front door of the apartment, I noticed Geoffrey had his key out to lock-up. I looked at the broken door and the smashed lock, and then pulled him away and we hurried off across the garden, out of the complex and onto the pavement.
We didn’t hang about and headed for the strip and the Sony shop I’d seen earlier. As we walked, I watched the roads, the pavements, the paths and the community areas where people sat on benches and gazed out to sea. The three Russians were still somewhere and I didn’t want to bump into them.
I said to Geoffrey, ‘When you left the villa, how did you get out?’
He said, ‘I considered climbing the wall, but decided it was too high, so I jumped onto a narrow ledge just below the lower terrace wall and then carefully climbed down the rocks onto the beach and away. I slipped a couple of times but I didn’t fall.’
‘You must have wanted to get back to your apartment very badly,’ I said.
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Why?’
‘I’d forgotten some important papers.’
‘The ones I saw you working on at the table?’
‘Yes.’
‘What are they?’ I asked. Geoffrey stalled. He didn’t want to tell me.
He said, ‘It’s just a hobby really. It’s a book I’m kind of writing.’
I said, ‘What’s it about?’
‘Oh, nothing very interesting; just finance and economics, you know, money.’
‘Money’s interesting, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is, sometimes; I suppose.’ Geoffrey wanted to talk about something else, anything else.
I said, ‘Makes the world go round, but it can’t buy you love.’
He didn’t reply. He held his satchel tighter. I left it, for now.
Since leaving the apartment my mind hadn’t stopped working on Treadwell and Baines. Were they there to kill Geoffrey? Could I have been wrong and were they there to take him safely to the consulate? No, I’d been right. I was certain, wasn’t I? If so, who sent them and why? That was a question for Charlotte. I was looking forward to hearing her answer.
We arrived at the Sony shop. I checked it was safe and we went in. There was a blind spot from the door, which the position of two display cabinets had conveniently created. I stood Geoffrey in it and told him to stay. The less chance there was of anyone spotting him the better.
The assistant spoke English with a Spanish accent. ‘Yes, sir?’ he said. He was well dressed and I felt confident he would possess strong product knowledge.
‘I want a phone, a pay as you go.’
He repeated, ‘A pay as you go, sir?’
It wasn’t a good start, but I remained positive.
‘Yes, a mobile phone that I can use immediately, with call credits that I can buy as I use it.’
His face lightened and he said, ‘Ah yes, you want pay when you use. We have many, they are all very good.’ He smiled.
At any other time, I would have joked back with him. Instead, I said to him, ‘I’m in a hurry. Give me the most expensive one and the highest amount of credit it can hold.’
He smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said and told me the credit limit. I would have preferred the amount to be higher but I didn’t argue.
I skipped the demonstration even though he told me he had to do it. Apparently, it was his job. I paid in cash and the whole transaction took only a few minutes. I stood in the open doorway and checked it was clear outside. In my hand was a pay when you use, top of the range phone with a nice shiny screen. Now, I would be able to talk to Charlotte at any time without the worry of a trace. I could also call Geoffrey on his phone if it became necessary.
I decided to return to the safety of the villa and call Charlotte from there. It wasn’t much further to go.
We walked quickly, taking care to remain unobserved. I made Geoffrey walk ahead, so we were less conspicuous, and we took any route other than the pavement wherever possible.
At the beachwear shop, we cut through and down a sloping pathway onto the boardwalk, which led around the edge of the beach. This was where I’d seen Vladimir earlier and I searched thoroughly before continuing. The sunshine flickered through the palms and speckled the walkway like dabs from an impressionist’s brush.
Holidaymakers sat on the sand or swam in the sea impersonating pagan worshippers to an ancient sun god. I noticed a topless woman sitting on a sun bed close to the path. She was smoking a cigarette and her heavy, pointed breasts lifted as she inhaled deeply. Geoffrey noticed, too. He stumbled. For a moment, I thought he was going to fall. His balance returned and he looked away. The woman laughed happily and drew again on her cigarette. I scouted ahead but the woman’s breasts seemed to draw my eyes. She smiled at me. I pulled myself away and we kept moving.
We reached the steps that took us away from the beach and up to the road and the pavement. El Rincon was just around the corner. I checked the road and it was all clear. We progressed the short distance safely and arrived at the arched doorway. I was just about to put the key in the lock when an intuitive warning sounded in my head. I stopped and considered. If the Russians knew enough about my K106 to be able to trace the call I made to Charlotte then perhaps they also knew my name, and as the villa was booked in my name, perhaps they knew about the villa. There was a good chance one, two or all three of them were waiting inside, hoping I would return and bring Geoffrey straight to them. I decided not to go in.
Geoffrey said, ‘What’s the matter?’
‘What if the Russians are in there?’ I said quietly.
Geoffrey’s mouth opened but he didn’t speak. His face fell like a dropped wedding cake. He nodded silently and watched me through worried eyes.
I looked at the yellow Seat parked at the side of the road tight against the wall. I had the key in my pocket. I thought it might be booby trapped, perhaps with a bomb, although, as I considered the possibility it seemed unlikely. The Russians wouldn’t have come prepared with the necessary equipment. However, somebody else might. These thoughts had taken a matter of seconds, but before I could decide whether to take the car or not events took over.
I caught a glimpse of movement from behind my left shoulder and heard the running feet. This time, he came at me first. It was the Russian man from the parked car. He led with his knife, held low and tight. He was intent on killing. I spun quickly and prepared to fight. Franz Berne—I remembered his name from the passport he carried—stopped three or four paces away and eyed me with cautious preparedness. His face was bruised and grazed where I’d hit him with the car door. I suspected his leg and arm were the same. His jaw line on one side appeared swollen. His bloodshot eyes bore into me with a cold hatred. He moved his knife through the air and glanced at Geoffrey, but didn’t approach any closer. Then he shouted something in Russian and looked up at the wall behind me.
; I worked it out immediately. Between them, the three Russians only had one pistol and one knife left. Franz had stayed out here with the knife while the other two had gone into the villa with one of them carrying the pistol. They had expected us to go in through the door where we would be easier to deal with. Franz had been watching while he hid round the corner, and when he saw we were not going to enter had appeared and was now calling out to his friends with the pistol. I realised they would be appearing on the wall in a matter of seconds. I had to act fast.
I pulled the car key from my pocket and threw it at Geoffrey. ‘Get in, start her up and prepare for a quick getaway.’ He caught the key, just, and with a look of uncertainty creasing his forehead pulled open the driver’s door.
I rushed Franz who defended with a retreat. I pushed again and forced him to attack. He lunged with an underhand stab, which I turned away from, sidestepping the shining blade and grabbing his wrist. He spun and twisted fast, catching me with a punch to my lower back, causing a momentary loss of balance. My grip on his wrist weakened and he freed himself. Franz pressed his advantage and slashed across me with a short powerful swing from his lower arm. The blade caught across my side, cutting the cotton of my t-shirt and slicing over my ribs. I felt the sting and knew instantly the knife had cut me. Franz breathed heavily and I could smell his sweat and sense his excitement. He swung again, aiming for my neck and a kill. My weight moved automatically onto my back foot and I dropped down, pulling my head away. The blade flashed below my chin, missing me by a whisker.
I heard the Seat’s engine start and rev loudly as Geoffrey stamped on the pedal. I also heard a man on the wall and he shouted in Russian. I wondered if he would shoot.
The Russian’s momentum, as the knife flashed by, left him open. I stepped forward and swung a left hook, punching him solidly on his jaw line. He stumbled backwards and I turned instantly for the car, checking the wall as I moved. The pistol was pointing in my direction and I ducked behind the passenger door. The man shouted something in Russian. I didn’t stop. I heard a shot. It sounded like a firework from a street fiesta. The bullet went high and I heard it hit the tarmac further up the road. I dived through the passenger door shouting to Geoffrey at the same time, ‘Go!’