by Stuart Field
The woman’s hair was tied up at the back like before. Steel wondered what she would look like with it down and flow past her shoulders. He realised he was staring but did not care. His sunglasses were always a perfect cover for such things.
Steel remembered the greek tale of Odysseus. How he had tied himself to the mast of the ship so he could hear the songs of the sirens. The ocean temptresses. Sea creatures of beauty ready to drag down the unsuspected and entranced.
Was she a siren, was she there to tempt him and drag him into danger.
He most certainly hoped so.
Steel smiled and nodded at the woman, but she just returned the nod without the smile. He laughed to himself as he made his way to the front desk.
She was definitely a tease, that was for sure.
As he turned to face the woman again, she was gone. Lost in the crowd, or at least from his view, causing Steel to smiled to himself as he stood in front of the concierge desk.
‘Yes sir, how may I be of assistance?’ the concierge said with a broad grin.
‘Yes, I would like to get to Gozo,’ he explained, glancing back to where the woman had stood. But she was still nowhere to be seen.
‘You want Gozo, why don’t you come with us, we’ll be going to Gozo,’ came a loud, excited voice from behind Steel. Steel turned to see a tall man with long black hair, a beard, tanned skin and brown eyes. He wore a T-shirt with an emblem on the front from a television series and cut off jeans. He had a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses perched upon his head, ready to be brought down to his face like a visor. Steel took note of a small badge pinned to his T-shirt. Kane De Marco, Movie Tour Guide.
The man had an element of coolness about him, which the women would find appealing. Steel approached the man who was a couple of inches smaller than himself. The man who was called Kane looked Steel up and down; then casually slid his sunglasses over his eyes.
‘So my friend, are you with us, are you ready to learn what you’ve always wanted to know?’ Kane said, raising his hands like a mad preacher.
‘All I need to know is if you’re going to Gozo?’ Steel asked, unconvinced. Kane smiled broadly and put an arm around Steel’s shoulders and led them all to the bus. Steel asked about the cost of the tour. Oddly, Kane waved the question away, said that Steel could pay later. Steel just hoped there would be a later. Steel knew he shouldn’t go, that he should decline and phone Stan. But something compelled Steel to go. Curiosity? What he did know was if those idiots from the park were following, he might have the chance to catch up with one of them.
The bus began to fill up, almost as if it was the last bus to anywhere. It was a medium-sized vehicle with enough places to seat eighteen people. It was cool inside thanks to the vehicles airconditioning. The windows had a slight tint to them, which stopped the sun's glare but did not hinder photographs been taken. The seats were in pairs down the central aisle, with seat belts and pullout footrests. It was clean and comfortable.
Steel could feel the excitement of others in the air. Which puzzled him slightly. The last time he saw someone excited about getting on a bus, it was his squad as they were heading home after a tour or R&R.
Steel smiled to himself as he thought back to what his old sergeant major used top say, ‘Don’t consider this as havin got a two-weeks holiday. Think of it as you’ve got two weeks to get your arses back here.’
A small woman sat next to Steel. She was in her late fifties, with bottle-blonde hair and a hint of makeup. She wore all black, a sleeveless blouse and a pair of shorts that showed off her pale white legs. The woman seemed pleasant enough and excited for some reason that Steel did not understand. He was hoping this wasn’t some shopping excursion, but Kane’s pass had said movie tour. Unfortunately, Steel was oblivious to such things. He did not really watch films and definitely not TV if he could help it. If anything, it would be documentaries. Although he was fascinated by Sherlock Holmes series, only because he enjoyed the novels.
As the last person took their seat, Kane stood near the driver and picked up a microphone.
‘High everyone, My name Kane De Marco, and I’ll be your tour guide on this fantastic journey,’ Kane said. Steel leaned over to the woman. He was still curious at the excitement of the people on the bus.
‘So, tell me, what tour is this? Grand tour of the islands or a historical tour?’ Steel asked. Hoping to gain some local knowledge.
‘No silly, it’s a movie scene tour,’ said the woman, as she bounced up and down with excitement.
‘A… film tour, we’re off to check out movie sights. You’ve got to be kidding me?’ Steel snarled, giving Kane an evil glare. There was a shunt as the bus lurched forwards, and then they were off towards the city.
‘As well as being a guide for these tours, I also work for the Maltese film and television industry. I have worked in many movies and tv shows as an actor, stunt man, or stunt coordinator. So, we are going to go around as see some of the places. And I’ll share with you some of the things that have happened during filming.’ The bus was filled with excited screams. Steel’s murderous scream he kept to himself.
As the bus disappeared towards the intersection, the mystery woman walked out of the hotel. She smiled and nodded as if a plan had succeeded.
‘That should keep him busy,’ she said with an amused chuckle. She walked over to the hotels parking lot and got into a blue Mini Cooper.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The man in the secure office sat patiently. He was thinking about the plan and the things yet to do. The pieces were put into place, and everything was going as it should.
The phone rang.
He waited until the third ring then picked up the receiver.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘The cop is taking a bus tour, guess he’s taking the day off,’ the voice said.
‘But?’ the man said.
‘We have people on him, just in case, and yes, they know to leave him alone,’ the voice said.
‘This better not be a problem.’ said the man.
‘It won’t be,’ said the voice.
‘Do we have to be worried about the cop?’ said the man.
‘No, he is busy with the woman, he is no threat to us for the moment,’ said the voice.
‘At the moment?’ said the man.
‘Plan for the worst and all that…’ said the voice.
‘Very true,’ said the man. ‘Very true.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Steel looked out of the window as they travelled in the opposite direction to the one he wanted. They were heading deeper into Valletta. Despite Steel’s anger at being dupped, he could not help but stare at the beauty of the city. A medley of old and new.
Kane was explaining about the history of the island to pass-the-time. But Steel had other things on his mind. For a start, who was the woman at the hotel? Steel checked his watch; it had felt as if they had been travelling for hours. Steel let out a disappointed sigh when he realised it had only been twenty minutes.
Eventually, the bus came to a stop, and the door swung open to let the tour begin. Steel watched as Kane looked at his watch and waited for a moment. Steel found it curious but then shook it off, figuring the trip must have timings for each location. Which made sense, mostly if they were to get a ferry over to the other island. Kane smiled and opened the door, ushering the flock of tourists off the bus. He pointed to a flat area that had once been part of the city’s defence system.
‘Make your way over there, and please wait for everyone to get off the bus,’ he called with a broad smile, showing off his white teeth. As the last person got off the bus – who was Steel, followed by Kane, who was placing his sunglasses over his eyes.
Kane moved through the crowd of people and stood with the view behind him.
This overwatch held a magnificent view of the port, and small island and fortress Steel had the same view of from his hotel. Steel’s interest suddenly perked up when he discovered the Manoel Island was out of bounds
to the public.
‘Now, that is interesting,’ Steel said.
‘See, told ya,’ said the bubbly woman from the bus.
Kane spoke in a loud voice, so everyone could hear. Steel could tell he had done this many times and was enjoying every minute.
Kane pointed over to the island directly behind him, a place lost in time. With structures that belonged to the fifteen-hundreds. He explained that the island had been a fortress and a quarantine island due to an outbreak plague. Later it had been a port for the British in World War 2. But now, the fantastic looking fort was a film set for movies such as the Assassins Creed action movie.
Steel stared across the blue waters, to Manoel. His imagination started to run riot, with the notion that it was a perfect place to hide something – or indeed someone. Steel smiled and shook his head at the absurdity of his theory.
While the tourists snapped pictures of the surrounding buildings and the view before them. Steel used his cell phone to take photos of the Isle. As absurd as his thoughts had been, he did not want to take any chances. As he snapped two more pictures then closed down his phone
From the corner of his eye, Steel caught Kane check his watch once again. Possibly time to go, Steel thought, almost thankful to be moving on. As he took one last look at the island, he saw a large black superyacht from the Msida Yacht Marina. The large craft cut through the water with the grace of a predator. Its shape was slick as if it had been formed by nature. It was a three-deck, hundred-and-fifty-foot craft that probably had a tens-of-millions price tag. Steel took out his phone and took several pictures of the vessel before she disappeared into the open sea.
‘OK, everyone, back on the bus,’ Kane shouted enthusiastically. The women in the group giggled like schoolgirls on a field trip as they made their way back to their seats, with their husbands in tow. Steel looked back at the island and the horizon where the vessel had disappeared. He felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Something was wrong, but he could not put his finger on it.
Starting with this trip, why was he here anyway? As far as he could tell – from speaking with the others, they weren’t even going off the island? Why was the guide so insistent that Steel went on the damned trip, why did he say they were going to Gozo? Also, who was the woman at the hotel? Was Kane working with her? He had seen them talking in the hotel lobby, perhaps this trip was her idea, if so, to what end?
‘Come along, Mr… sorry, I didn’t catch your name before?’ Kane said with a cheerful grin.
‘That’s OK,’ Steel replied, walking straight past the guide, and stepping on the bus, ‘I didn’t give it.’
Steel found himself intrigued by this whole cat and mouse game that he had thrown into. Sure, he wanted to go to Gozo, but the ME wouldn’t be ready for him until the next day, so he had time. If these people had anything to do with Lucy or Brad, he would have to let this play out.
They drove for a short while. Kane continued to talk about the films that had been made there over the years. The busload of people sat drawn in by the information, taking it all in.
Everyone, but Steel.
His thoughts were elsewhere. He was thinking about the woman, and the men he had seen in Mdina and the park. He thought about Lucy and Brad, what the hell had they found?
As the coach drove on through winding streets, Steel’s gaze fell onto the tinted windscreen of a parked car. A black four-by-four suddenly caught his interest. He’d seen the car before. It was outside the airport when he arrived, and then again outside Foster’s place the night he went to visit and behind that had been the blue Mini.
Who was following who?
Is the enemy of my enemy, my friend – or just a pain in the arse who’s sending me on wild goose chases?
Steel looked back quickly; the vehicles were now following. They had pulled out just as the bus had gone passed them. Along with blacked-out SUV’s, there was a blue VW transit van, Steel had never seen before. This was a new addition.
The coach stopped, and Kane ushered everyone off in his enthusiastic way, asking everyone to wait until the final person got off. As Steel stepped onto the pavement, he used the time to look back casually. Both the four-by-four and van had parked. He smiled to himself as the group moved off.
‘Maybe this trip will be worth it after all,’ he thought to himself, as he followed the crowd.
‘OK, everyone, stay close,’ Kane shouted, waving a folder he had brought with him. The file was about two inches thick and full of movie sets photographs. The walkways were narrow with dogleg streets, and many had a steep vertical climb using ancient stone steps. Steel knew his mystery followers would have trouble trying to remain inconspicuous without a crowd or shop doorway to hide behind. The only possible way would be rooftops. Most of the buildings had flat roofs with a jumping distance between them.
At that thought, Steel felt uncomfortable and vulnerable.
The group followed Kane through the winding streets, taking photographs as they went. Steel held back from the group, just until they were within earshot but out of view. He needed a better angle on things. Most of the houses had crafted bars over the windows; others had stone balconies on the first floor. These made for a perfect climbing frame. It took him less than a minute to get on to one of the rooftops. He stood for a moment and took in the view. The breathtaking sight almost made him forget why he was up there.
Sprinting and jumping, Steel traversed across the rooftops, following the bellow of Kane’s excited voice below. He stopped for a moment and looked down carefully.
Not far behind the group was the woman from the hotel. She could not be part of the tour, or she would have taken the coach with the rest of them. Her distance to the group showed she was shadowing the tour.
Or him.
Steel was just about to leave his position when he saw the two men from the van. Steel smiled, thinking how ironic it was. She was following someone, and they were following him. Or perhaps, they were all following him? Either way, it led to one question. Why?
The woman from the hotel and the park was the Mossad agent Samara Malka. She was twenty-eight and had been with them a few years, most of which was training before being in the Army. She had proven herself more than capable more than once while in the army, possibly why she had been chosen by the secret service. And now, she was on an intelligence-gathering mission. Nothing she could not handle, but her orders had been minimal. Observe and do not interact. Samara had the name of her target, and she was to gather information on anyone who interacted with her mark.
Samara watched the tour group from afar, paying particular interest in the man dressed in black. She had to be careful. Her intel had said that he was called John Steel, he was an ex-British Special Forces Soldier, now a New York cop – a homicide detective. The rest of his dossier was vague, to say the least. She had seen him trailing behind. Steel could have been bored by the tour. He had, after all, been forced to travel with them under false pretence. But the way Steel moved said to her that he knew. He knew that he had been tricked, the man knew he was being followed. But yet, he stayed. Perhaps he had questions for either the men or herself. She knew that Marcus Foster had telephoned with him after the death of Foster’s daughter. It did not take much investigatory work to figure out that Steel was on Malta to find out what had happened to her.
She did not even know why she was there, but then she was a damn good soldier and did not question, just did what she was told to do. Which in this case, was to observe and report. And from what she had seen at the park, that was something she did not mind.
She had been following him since he landed. He’d gone to visit Foster, his old friend who worked at the US Embassy no less. Then the next day he’d go for a run in the morning. He’d visited Mosta and Mdina. So far, he was just a bored tourist. She had thought he may get all giddy about witnessing a shooting on the Mdina bridge, but then, why was he chasing the guy in the first place?
She had been sent on a mission with
little to no intel.
Observe and report.
She had also wondered why he needed a cover story?
Really, Lord John Steel? Unless, it wasn’t a cover, and he actually was a Lord – or whatever those aristocratic bastards called themselves. She had to admit, a story like that would open a lot of doors.
But all she could see was a cop on vacation. However, looks can always be deceiving, unlike the blue VW transit van that had been hanging back. He, of course, was tailing someone – that someone – was the cop. Not exactly the most discreet mode of transport to be sure. Especially with an advert for drain cleaning on the side.
It was a different vehicle from before, but the two men in the front were the same she’d seen since day one. The question was, why were they following the cop?
They had seen the old city, the former British bars, and the place where some actor had stood and nearly tripped over. Where this movie had been filmed and so on and so forth. The people had lapped it up.
All, except Steel.
He had just stood there and looked up at the roofs. Why the hell were the roofs of the buildings more critical than what the guide was saying?
Samara followed the group as they made their way back to the bus. Suddenly, the cop was gone. She hadn’t seen him leave. Had it been when they’d gone past the old drug store? She looked around franticly. She could not believe she’d lost him. This explained the warning her director had given her about Steel before she left for Malta.
‘Be careful, this is a slippery one,’ the Director of Mossad had said. Samara remembered the smile of admiration her boss wore as he spoke of John Steel.