Richard Wiseman - To Kill Or Be Killed

“I’m just saying, they’re cheap here.”

“You thinking of getting a room?”

“No.” He paused. “Well not unless I had a need of a bed.” He stared intently at the literature, purposefully.

“Not on company time Deany.” Tony smiled.

“When do you finish?” He asked.

“Whatever happened to romance? You’re a dirty dog Deany!” Ellie smiled when she said it. “You want me you’ll have to woo me.”

They both looked up as a man came into reception and looked at each other when it was clearly not Stanton.

Stanton was delighted at the heaviness of the London April rain. As the coach pulled under the giant glass portico sheltering the bus passengers in the giant parking bay at the back Stanton put on his woolly hat and pulled his hood up. He had no luggage, but he had cash and the card, which he was not sure he’d be able to use.

It was a short walk to Victoria Station. Umbrellas and hooded figures abounded in the intense rain. Stanton felt secure. He could not be recognised on CCTV in the rain lashed ‘muzziness’ and amongst the well covered people he was invisible to his pursuers.

He felt the disk in his pocket and knew that he needed to find the nearest hotel to the Priory Arms. He stopped a passing man and asked him where the nearest Internet Cafe was. The man was helpful and pointed to Victoria Street gave him directions and told him about the Net Lounge.

Stanton made his way in and paid for a half hour and got himself a coffee. He managed to find the Belgrave Hotel using Yell. com and got himself directions, knowing he’d go through Stockwell Tube station. There was no drive to put the disk in. He went and spoke to the young woman behind the counter.

“Hi. I’m logged on over there. I’ve got this disk and I want to send some pictures to a friend. Can I do that?”

“No. We have USB connectors for accessing pictures to put on profiles, but no drives.”

“Right thanks very much.”

Stanton walked away knowing that he needed a laptop. He could steal one or he could ask his contacts to get him one. He made his way to Victoria station and descended into the tube. It was three stops south bound on the Victoria line and straight walk up the Clapham Road. He kept his hood up, even on the underground.

It was a modern reception, light wood, fish tank in the wall. As soon as Stanton walked in he saw Brook sitting at the table, on soft grey, high backed chairs across from the reception desk. Stanton had his hood down, but his woolly hat on and the waterproof coat was done up to the chin.

Brook instinctively knew it was Stanton, the eyes below the hat were hard edged and hunted looking. He rose and greeted him warmly, putting on a show for the receptionist.

“Anton thank god for that we thought you’d remember what we said.”

“Yes. I haf been walking lots since we separate and I remember Belgrave Hotel.” Stanton affected a foreign accent.

He was sure the man was the contact. He had the ‘smell’ of secrecy and double dealing about him that Stanton had learnt to see in his years in the ‘trade’. The girl simply thought them daft older men, her mind unable to see through the layers of deceit both men wore as a matter of habit.

Stanton was shepherded him out of reception, before the girl had a chance to get a good view of his face.

“Thank you so much.” Brook said to the girl. “I knew he’d remember eventually and it was good of you to let us shelter from the rain.”

“Goodbye.” The girl watched them leave. The hotel wasn’t much of a landmark for tourists to use as a meeting point if they got lost, but it took all sorts.

Telford was parked across the road watching the entrance. He’d seen the figure go in and watched Brook emerge with him. They rushed across to the car and Brook got in the back with Stanton.

Brook was careful. He didn’t know Stanton was unarmed. Stanton wasn’t shocked to have a snub nose thirty eight revolver pointed at him from Telford turning round in the driver seat.

“Frisk him.” Brook ran his hands through Stanton’s pockets. He found no weapon. He did find the disk and held it up.

“What’s this?”

“Research, it’ll help me get the job done, possibly. I need a laptop to access the information.

“Let’s go, just drive away from the hotel and park up further up the road.”

Telford drove up the Clapham Road and parked near the junction with Ellias Place.

Brook got out and went to the boot of the car. He brought out two cases, one with a laptop and one with the ‘materials’ for the job. Brook got back into the car.

“Let’s start with the fact that this job is near enough compromised.” Brook began. “I’ve got to warn you that there are people watching.”

“DIC, I know all about them. They have no idea of what the job entails or where I’m going, mind you neither do I for that matter.”

Brook handed him the case. Stanton opened it and saw the bomb, a lime green Bic disposable cell phone and an envelope. Stanton opened the envelope read the details and whistled.

“Wow. That’s got to be worth a million when I pull that one off. I hope you guys have a good exit plan for me.”

“We have. You do the job and phone the single number in this cell phone. You get picked up by us and taken to a place to lie low. Then you get paid and you’re sneaked out of the country.”

Stanton nodded.

“Do you know about a civil service agency call the DIC.” Stanton asked.

Brook’s eyes met Telford’s in the rear view mirror.

“We’ve heard of them yeah, what about them?” Brook asked.

“Have you got that laptop?” Stanton put all the materials back in the case, except the envelope. “Oh and could you give me a pistol of some sort?”

This time he saw the look the men gave each other in the rear view mirror.

“I’ll hand you the case and you can put the weapon in and leave it on the front seat until you drop me off.”

Brook nodded. Telford unlocked and opened the glove compartment, pulled out a nine millimetre browning, a silencer and a single clip. Stanton passed him the case and sat back.

“You want me to use the bomb?”

“Yes. It’ll make it look like terrorism.”

“It isn’t terrorism?”

“No. He needs removing. He’s inconvenient and we’re behind the man who wants to replace him.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Now about DIC, what’s on the disk?” Brook asked.

David was very late. He’d got stuck in traffic around Vauxhall Bridge and his bad driving skills hadn’t helped extricate him from that. The Satnav wasn’t helping. He got to the Priory Arms long after he could have and picked up Liam. Relieved that Liam could drive he let him, but it was just a short drive around the corner. They got to the Belgrave Hotel at two thirty.

“We’re government security officers, we’re looking for this man. He held up the photo. “Have you seen him?”

“No. I haven’t.” The girl at reception hadn’t seen enough of Stanton to match him to the photo.

“Has anyone been here and left a message or sat waiting?”

The girl paused thinking. It hadn’t been a busy morning and she was none too bright and very bored, day dreaming most of the empty time away, but she remembered the men.

“Yes, about twenty minutes ago there was a man here said he’d arranged with a friend to meet outside here if one them got lost. It was raining so he asked to wait inside. This man turned up all wet. They left. He called him Anton. The wet man had a German accent.”

McKie looked at Liam.

“Could be them.”

“Might not be.”

“We’d better wait.”

In the car on the Clapham Road Brook and Telford were hiding their wide eyed amazement well. Stanton had told them about how he got the disk. He told them his plan and how to get into the target’s heavily guarded residence. Brook and Telford were delighted. As far as Stanton was concerned they were civilian middle men for a buyer willing to pay a million for a very tricky kill. The visit to McKie’s house had supplied him with what he needed and all he’d wanted from that situation was to know who and where the DIC operatives were, but now he found that the information on the disk would also help him get the job done.