‘You will live well under my legacy, my darling Elena.’
As the sun appeared and started to illuminate the Iberian Peninsula he stared out of his bedroom window at an agreeable vista from within an equally spectacular home. His eyes closed gently, the sun creating a chromatic spectrum on his lashes, filling his blurred vision with colour. He should be happy, yet even surrounded by all the trappings of success and a whore in every port he felt somehow hollow.
He sensed that the girl was still next to him, willing but almost too eager; he brushed her to one side, he might concede to having her again before breakfast, but for now she was an irritant.
“Go and do something, make yourself look attractive. Go into town, buy whatever you need. Go.” He ushered her away with a few brushstrokes of his hand.
He really should ask her what she was called.
She smiled. Her existence had fringe benefits, and it helped support her academic dreams.
“When you come back, bring a friend.”
He was bored. And when he became bored, like most domesticated animals, he became destructive. He lit a cigarette, took one long draw of the narcotic contents then crushed it in a nearby ashtray. Waiting for the ember to die he then picked up his cell phone.
In the city of London Roberts and his team were making their way back into work, downtime was rare and each officer acknowledged their good fortunes for having understanding wives or partners. The single ones were drunk on policing, never able to think of or talk about anything else.
They still talked about the loss of Wood. It had quietly impacted upon the team; it had been a mistake to leave him with an attractive girl, in truth they all knew that, but conceded that anyone was capable of making the same mistake he had.
O’Shea woke Cade with a cup of tea, stroking his cheek with her index finger, worried that to do it whilst he was awake might send a message that she had very much fallen for him. How much was too much so soon into a relationship?
The fact that he suddenly moved forward and bit her finger either confirmed that is was fine or proved that she was a nuisance. Grabbing her and pulling her back into bed offered reassurance at a time when she needed it. Her life had previously been a roller coaster of emotions, a free ride on a switchback of positive and negative feelings, controlled by a single incident that led to a series of events she no longer wished to recall.
Cade had arrived into her life; for a reason, for a season or hopefully forever.
“Come on you, we need to get to work or people will talk.” Carrie was heading to the en-suite bathroom wearing only a slightly-too-small towel and hoping for company, knowing it was hypocritical as it would make them even later than they currently were, she could hope nonetheless.
When a minute or so later two sets of hands left distinctive shapes on the heavily condensed, tinted glass cubicle it confirmed one thing: He already knew how to read her mind.
Kissing her under the pounding and intensely hot water they struggled at times for breath, which in turn made the whole experience more erotic. She swallowed water, closed her eyes, ran her hands across his smooth back, lower, grabbing at him as he reciprocated, lifting her against the glass, caring not if it would give way.
Her hair was darker, wetter and heavier, he ran his hands through it, pushing his face into it, inhaling the scent of something fruity, mildly exotic which mixed with her natural oils and smelled intoxicating, better than anything else he could recall.
He ran his tongue down her neck, biting her throat before doing the same on her chest, darting from side to side, left to right, pausing momentarily to admire her through the building steam.
She was as aroused as he was.
He dropped onto his knees and felt the sensation of her once more, different, coarser, but equally stimulating. He placed his hands behind her, putting pressure on her lower back, guiding her towards him.
Did she hate herself for not resisting? Hardly.
She opened her legs, then closed them again, open, closed, each time allowing him further and further into her until she gave in to the intense muscular power of his tongue. It was physically impossible to wrap her legs around him, but were it so, she would have, and willingly.
She thrashed around trying to find something to grip onto; she needed to be the centre of attention, his turn would follow, possibly later, even at another time entirely, but for now, this was all about her.
One wet hand grabbed hold of the door handle, the other pushed against the glass. Moments later they would shift again, with both hands now on his head, holding him in abeyance, then releasing him once more.
Her eyes were unable to focus, the water, the steam all doing its best to deprive her of one of her key senses. It all added to the occasion. She couldn’t see the person that was sending her into a series of involuntary tremors and she didn’t care. It could be anyone, she could fantasise if she chose to, but she knew exactly who it was and that made her so intensely happy she wanted to cry.
What shocked her was how the physical act made her laugh, she was literally laughing. She had read about such a ‘release’ before, in a much-loved, well-thumbed magazine in a salon or surgery somewhere and now it was happening to her.
What have you done to me Mr Cade?
She wasn’t sure. Normally very vocal she could think of only one word.
“Again?”
The last part of the walk to work was no different to any other. She didn’t flinch when a male, head down and with places to go walked straight into her. He grabbed hold of her arm to steady himself and then nodded and unusually for such a chaotic city apologised and hurried on, just as O’Shea did. Both were eager to go about their business. Cade was a step ahead of her and didn’t even register the moment. His mind was on other things and they were a million miles from work-related.
Alone and feeling antagonistic Alexandru pressed speed dial 1 on his phone. It was answered almost immediately.
“Buna dimineata.”
“Dimineata.”
Having said good morning Alexandru pressed on, there was no point in any more pleasantries. He did not consider them necessary and this morning he felt, unpleasant.
“So, what do you have to tell me, brother? Make sure, whatever it is, it is all good. I am in no mood for apologies.”
Stefan Stefanescu spoke quickly and deliberately, afraid perhaps that he was being listened to. As a state of mind, paranoia did not exclusively belong to his older brother.
“We lost a few good men Alexandru. The British pigs killed them, shot them like dogs, for what? For doing their jobs…”
“Move on, as you say, they were doing their jobs, like any employee, they were paid well and are replaceable.”
“Indeed. So, we have lost two of our men, we rescued Artur. He had injuries, but we found a friend in a town who could help. He has lost an eye…”
“Again brother, I do not care. Artur is a loyal man, I pay him well, he has another eye, is there anything else?”
“Our plan is working. The money is being collected. The banks are one step behind us my brother, we are laughing at them, every day. When those victims have been bled dry we move onto a new town. The newspapers said we were like rats…vermin…”
“Good. We should be proud of this name. Is it better than Primul Val?”
He knew the answer, God help anyone who thought so.
Stefan continued. “There are police watching us everywhere. But we are OK. We will go to ground if we need to. The machine parts keep being delivered. We have trained a new boy to fit them, he is now training others. Soon, we will have a stronger, larger team, then we can really become rich. Rats with money…”
For the older brother it was no longer an issue of finance, it was about power, reputation, presence and above all becoming a criminal icon, held aloft by what the general public saw as the underworld.
Actually, it was all about reputation. Having lived in his brother’s shadow for so long he was growing to despi
se him, always covertly for he considered him capable of cruelty towards anyone. Seeing what he had done to their mother, all those years ago had remained with him, an ink stain, dropping onto pure white linen, slowly growing until the original mark had spread like a malignant being.
That summed him up. But for the immediate future he needed to be close. He heard Alex sigh.
“Anything else? I am getting bored.”
“The police have a man called Cade. We don’t know where he came from but he is the one they all look to. We saw him alone in a car with Nikolina, the first time we tried to kidnap her, he managed to escape. Our friends tell us they were possibly more than work colleagues. Cade is working with another officer called Roberts, their boss is called Daniel. They have women helping them too, one is very close to Cade.”
He took a deep breath. “And, Alex…you need to know that Niko is dead. She was dealt with as you asked. They found her the next morning. There is nothing in the newspapers. They are pretending she did not exist. Not even a funeral.”
Alex liked the way his brother had refused to acknowledge Nikolina with any more than a few words.
“Good. Very good. I hope she was as cold as she was alone when the end came. Watch out for this Cade and his friends, we do not need any inconvenience. Now, go and make me some more money, make us rich. It looks like I have two girls to play with.”
“Only two brother? You are getting old.”
He smiled, grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label and unscrewing the cap walked towards the two eager girls. He took a long swig of the whisky, savouring its multi-layers and feeling its silky heat as it ran down his throat. He handed it to the first girl; she was new and excitable. She had chestnut-coloured hair, what a nice change.
“Drink. And don’t stop until I say so.”
She did as she was told, struggling at first but willing to oblige. Shaking her head and pulling a disapproving face as the whisky scorched her throat. Her friend had regaled her with tales of wealth and excitement and as such she wanted to appear enthusiastic.
“You still there brother?” As he spoke he placed the older girl’s hand on the younger girl’s breast and nodded towards it. He loved nothing more than seeing two of the finer species indulging one another. One giggled enthusiastically, the other gasped. It was almost certainly her first time.
“Yes, I am waiting.”
“Good. I wanted you to hear what success sounds like. Now leave me to play with girls who I don’t even know. I have valuable time to make up. Find the slut that makes Cade smile and cut something off of her body, the choice is yours. Gift wrap it and send it to him by courier, and make sure it is not subtle. Leave an open wound in his mind that bleeds every time he stops to rest. Oh, and Stefan…”
“Yes?”
“Tell the Albanians that Cade is hunting them. That should put the cat among the little birdies. Then turn up the heat a little. They are getting wise to us. Bring some distractions to the pathetic capital of England. As we discussed. Do remember that this but a game…the real fun is yet to come.”
“Yes, of course. Do you really think I have forgotten? The new boy Dorin is doing well, he has recruited six of our people already. They have been tried and have passed the test. We will soon move south and then north, away from the financial part of the city. We will still make plenty of money. That is the beauty of our plan.”
“My plan actually. But whatever you say dear brother. Like I care anymore. I have money, what I want now is something else, something more powerful than money. I want people to respect me. And they will. The boy from Pazardzhik Prison; where they left me to rot in my own filth.”
He took a moment to recall the occasionally torrid, often freezing nature of his existence in a miniscule cell that was never cleaned, chained to a bed, lying in his own waste. Bastards.
“The authorities will come for me one day Stefan and when that happens you will have to take over the organisation. I had someone else in mind but she betrayed me after everything I gave her, she is lucky she is only dead. The mastery of my long-term plan is simplicity itself. One day I will be notoriously wealthy and it will come to me as a result of good fortune and a moment of genius. Who would have thought a few pieces of paper could be so valuable? Go away now, you are annoying me.”
He left the phone line open so his brother could listen then pulled the fair-haired girl towards him leaving her with no doubt what he wanted. When he was satisfied, the other one could have her turn. Look at them, filthy whores; everyone had a price, a pity theirs was so cheap. But then everyone he dealt with was as much of a whore.
Stefan stared at the display on his phone, despising the name that lingered on the liquid crystal display.
“One day brother.”
“OK, boy’s heads up! We’ve got some new footage. This lad on the mountain bike? Local branch of National Westminster reckon he’s been seen at other branches of theirs over the river. He’s a creature of habit, same clothes every time. Let’s get his ugly mug out there on the system, see if we can’t try out that new photo recognition software, I want every wooden top to know what he looks like, the last bastard escaped from under our noses because of them. I want this one banged up and in my cells so I can talk to him personally.”
Roberts was in an unusually miserable mood, throwing out derogatory terms about the uniform branch as if they worked for a separate organisation.
He turned to see Cade and O’Shea arriving.
“Late again? Teacher will have to keep you behind after school. You look like you’ve been up all night Jack.”
It was salacious, and he knew it.
“Hardly Jas, I got an hour at least and besides I’m always in bed early. I’m an early riser.”
“I bet you are my son, I bet you are.”
O’Shea stared at them both before marching to her work station, logging on and trying to make sense of the abundance of emails that sat on her desktop. She hit the delete key over and over again until she found something of interest.
“Carrie, can you see if you and your team can dig out any footage from the previous attacks, match the individual on the mountain bike to them? If we find him we’ve cracked it. I think he might be working alone.”
Cade shook his head. “Never.”
Daniel walked into the room, he’d been eavesdropping in his office.
“Jason, sorry but I agree with Jack. This cell is bigger than we realise. Although they’ve taken thousands they are most likely taking a whole lot more from somewhere. They have to work to saturation point then pull out and disappear. And our European colleagues say that is exactly what they will do.”
“I think it’s a matter of time before this little business venture diversifies boss.” Cade looked at Daniel who was busy biting the frame of his Hugo Boss spectacles.
“As negative as it sounds I am inclined to agree Jack. The greedy bugger at the helm isn’t going to be happy with twenty thousand a fortnight for long.”
“Hello, yes this is Dorin. Who is this?”
“You never ask. Ever! I have spoken to the person in charge. He is pleased with your work. But now we must work harder. Meet me in an hour. You know the vehicle? Same place. If you see a police unit, keep driving. By the way do you like your new car?”
He did. Very much.
“Good. Get this wrong and we will burn you alive in it my friend. OK?”
“OK. But I have a question…”
The caller had already cleared the line, obsessed and distrustful, he too wanted to make enough money and head home to what was left of his family. Everything came with a risk, but why increase it?
Dorin opened the cheap Nokia, pulled out the SIM card, tossed the phone onto the nearby road and waited for the first large vehicle to crush it. He then fished in his pocket for his new phone and inserted a new SIM having snapped the previous card in half, dropping each half down consecutive drains before walking quickly to his car.
An hour later he met
the two males in a quieter part of south London, took possession of four cardboard boxes and left without acknowledging either of them. Later that day he would assemble the devices and distribute them to his team, none of whom knew each other – like layers of an onion. They worked together for a common purpose but would never meet. His instructions were clear. His life was worth more than theirs, he had already worked out what true value was to members of his newfound and elite club.
“Boss, this will interest you.”
“Fire away, mademoiselle.” Roberts was more upbeat, putting on an affected French accent; a few strong and over-brewed coffees always pulled him back from the abyss. He was strutting now, Jagger-esque and optimistic.
“We’ve run through about a hundred sets of CCTV footage. This guy here?”
“Go on…”
“He’s new. This one too. And this one…” O’Shea kept pointing to the screenshots as she identified each new member of the team.
“And we’re happy that they are working together, not lone operators?”
“I think we have to be. The m.o. is too similar for it not to be linked.”
“OK, how much has gone from each of those ATMs?”
“Right now I don’t know, but when Del and Terry get back we’ll know.”
“Del and Tel, The A Team, excellent. Carrie, let me know ASAP.” He slapped his fingers together in a style that indicated his pleasure.
“Will do. Oh, and boss?”
“Go ahead.”
“You know about me and Jack don’t you?”
He sipped on his acrid beverage.
“That you are working together like a well-oiled machine Carrie, yes absolutely.”
He winked, brushed her shoulder and walked to Daniel’s office where he found the DCI talking to Cade.
“Good girl that one Jack, wouldn’t you say?”
“Cut to the chase…Jas.”
“You erm…you know, you…as it were...how shall we put it?”
Seven Degress (The Seventh Wave Trilogy Book 2) Page 7