Tim Stevens - Severance Kill

‘Clean this fuckin’ mess,’ he said, spittle flying. He barged out.

Miklos was waiting outside, his arms folded. The rest of the men were up at Bartos’s main house. They couldn’t be al kldnspan›

‘Little bastard’s finished,’ said Bartos.

Miklos had coordinated the evacuation of the restaurant, making sure Janos and his entourage got out before the police arrived. He’d taken statements, provided Bartos with a summary even before they’d arrived at the Kodiak’s home.

‘He’s jerked me off for the last time.’ Bartos stared off over the city’s lights. ‘This Brit guy.’

‘He has nothing,’ said Miklos behind him.

‘He humiliated me again.’

‘He took Zito’s gun. He has nothing else. Janos told him nothing. The other men confirm this.’

Bartos didn’t turn. After a few seconds he pulled out his phone.

The Worm’s phone was switched off. Bartos thought about leaving a message — never turn your phone off on me — but decided against it.

Thirty seconds later his phone buzzed. The Worm.

‘Couldn’t speak just then. What’s up?’

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Which guy are we — ’

‘Don’t dick me around. The umbrella guy. The one who just got the better of six of my men, disarmed one of them. Shut down the Restaurant Nebe .’

‘I’m working on it.’

‘That’s not good enough.’ Bartos breathed deep. He knew if he started shouting, up at the house the twins would wake up. ‘If he’s some kind of undercover special forces agent I need to know about it. Need to know what kind of connections he’s got, what sort of backup.’

‘He doesn’t need any backup, by the look of it. Seems to me he’s doing a fine job of running rings round you on his own.’

Oh, you’ll pay. The phone creaked in Bartos’s fist.

The Worm went on: ‘Look, Blazek. You need to get a grip. I feed you information, it’s up to you what you do with it. It’s not my fault you’ve let it go to waste, let this man slip through your fingers. At least you’ve got Gaines. I’ll let you know once I’ve found out why he’s so important. Till then, get off my back.’

*

The Worm cut the boor off in mid-shout, then opened his palmtop computer. There it was. The beacon, a different one. Calvary was still on the radar.

He’d wondered how much to tell Blazek about Calvary. Whether to tell him his name, and that he was a suspected assassin for the British k thize="+0"›Hgovernment. In the end he’d decided to reveal nothing. The Worm didn’t think Blazek was a coward, but he did wonder if the big man would baulk at going after somebody with Calvary’s pedigree, or his suspected links. There was a risk he and his men might pull their punches, awed even if unconsciously by who they were up against, and that would be fatal when dealing with a man like Calvary.

The Worm looked at his watch. Twelve forty-five a.m. He needed to get moving.

*

Nikola drove parallel to the river. The view across was spectacular, the castle high above, soaring and brooding simultaneously. She’d taken a roundabout route and by the way she watched her mirrors, made unexpected turns, Calvary knew she had some experience shaking off tags.

A grand, ornate building was coming up and Nikola took an abrupt right and pulled in. Jakub climbed in the back. He didn’t look at Calvary. His face was grim.

‘We go to my apartment,’ said Nikola. ‘Even if they search the office, they will not be able to trace us there.’

On the way, Calvary checked the pistol he’d taken off the man in the club. A Glock 17. Modern, chunky, effective. The magazine was full. He passed it forward to Max, who flinched a little. Not a good sign.

‘Swap it. Give me the Browning,’ said Calvary.

‘Why?’

‘I’d prefer it.’

He didn’t tell them the real reason, which was that the Browning needed to be cocked before every shot. The Glock chambered a new round automatically, making it easier for a novice to use.

Assuming they ever needed to use it.

*

They navigated a warren of streets. After ten minutes’ silence, Calvary turned to Jakub.

‘Look. You don’t like me. You don’t like that I’ve brought Blazek down on your heads, when you were working on ways to get at him without being noticed. I’m sorry for you. But I can’t undo any of it. I need your help, and you sure as hell need mine. So let’s work together.’

Jakub’s lizard eyes revealed nothing.

Calvary gazed out the window, watching the midnight city seem to grab at the car as it went by.

*

Nikola’s flat was in the Vinohrady district to the southeast. She parked on the street and they followed her up. It was a small two-bedroom apartment on the second floor. Cosy, cluttered, with signs of only one occupant.

Calvary felt awkward in the confined space, with his boots and his gun. He’d made sure Max brought the Glock in with them as well. They seated themselves around a battered kitchen table and Nikola made tea and sandwiches. Calvary felt the fatigue starting to drag him under.

He tossed the wallet onto the table. Pulled out the business card. Marek Zito, and the phone number.

Max said, ‘Yeah, we know Zito. Close to Janos, as you’ve discovered for yourself. History of jail time for assault, burglary.’ He shrugged. ‘But we’re no further in than we were before.’

‘We have a number,’ Calvary said. ‘And I have an idea.’

*

He told them. Max watched him with growing incredulity. Nikola glanced from time to time at Jakub, who’d dropped his gaze to the tabletop.

Afterwards Max flipped the card in the air, caught it deftly. ‘Never work.’

‘Agreed,’ Jakub grunted.

Calvary said, ‘Look. You said yourselves, the brother, Miklos, is the golden boy. The anointed heir. This Janos is just a kid. At that age you’re full of piss and vinegar. Hypersensitive. He wants respect from his dad, the boss, Bartos. Instead he’s screwed up. Three times. First, on the tram. That was him in charge. Sure, he got Gaines, which earned him some brownie points. But he accidentally shot a Russian — what’s more, a Russian intelligence agent, it seems — and he lost one of his men in a surprise counterattack by a total stranger. Me. Then, he fails to take me down outside the hospital, gets himself slammed in a car door, and indirectly gets his brother’s car wrecked. Finally he lets me escape from what should have been an airtight trap, a trap I walked straight into, in the restaurant. Bartos has got to be furious with him. And Janos is feeling utterly humiliated.

‘His one shot at redemption is taking me in. Without help from his father or his brother. He’ll suspect something’s up when I contact him — I don’t think he’s stupid enough not to. But I doubt he’ll go straight to Bartos or Miklos or any of the rest of the crew with the information.’

Nikola ran her hand through her hair. ‘It is a gamble.’

‘Worth it. Possibly our only shot.’ He finished his tea. ‘Two things. I need to make a phone call first, in private. I’ll go for a walk. Second, I need a few hours’ rest. We all do.’

*

Outside, the street was dark with trees. He walked several blocks away, the Browning in his waistband. He hit the speed dial.

‘Martin. Where are you?’

He closed his eyes at the sound of the voice.

‘You have to give me more time, Llewellyn.’

width="2edth="2em" align="justify"›‘I’m listening.’

He brought Llewellyn up to date, leaving out nothing, not even what he planned to do.

‘I need you to run a check on the Russians.’ He described them. The squat one who’d been shot on the tram. The young, dark-haired one who’d been following Gaines and also at the alley where he’d dropped the bug. The slightly older, fair-haired man. And the woman: middle-aged but looking older, sick or injured in some way.