Inca Kings

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

One more opportunity to put her life in her hands. One more chance to make amends. One more dance with Torsten Dahl — and then she could happily die.

Kenzie corrected herself very quickly. She didn’t want to die. At least not today. Not whilst the Swede wavered between sex and love, and not whilst his lonely wife decided between love and divorce.

The choice, however, was well and truly out of her hands.

Fully prepped. Fully loaded, they came. Dahl toting two Smith and Wessons, a HK semi-auto, and Sig-Pro semi-auto handgun. The extra ammo weighed his small rucksack down. Were they expecting trouble? Kenzie grimaced.

She carried similar weaponry, but with the addition of an old friend.

Dahl eyed it now as he pulled the car over into a dusty lay-by. “You really think you need that thing?”

Kenzie sighed. “Tell me, would you leave your penis behind if you were going on a date?”

Dahl faltered. “Umm…”

“No, of course not. Because sometime during the night it might be useful.” She cracked open the car door, pulled the katana out of the back seat and slipped it smoothly into the scabbard attached to her back. “Same here.”

“Fair enough then,” Dahl muttered.

Kenzie smiled to herself, then took in the view. They were parked in the hills above Monaco, having spent the best part of the last two days in the resplendent city of Monte Carlo. Just beyond the wheels of the car the cliff dropped away, rock and scrub and boulders littering the way down toward the topmost tier of the city. Below, the French Riviera’s most famous streets meandered through the main town, passing by casinos, restaurants and designer boutiques, with the sparkling jewel of the Mediterranean spreading as far as the eye could see.

“I could imagine being on one of those yachts,” she said, shading her eyes against the sun and the glare. “Lazing in the harbor.”

“Yeah.” Dahl paused for a moment to look. “Just a small one though. Nothing ostentatious.”

“Of course,” Kenzie acknowledged. “Nothing over ten mil.”

They both laughed and shared a look. Being alone and having to rely on each other these past days, spending the nights talking and imbibing, had created a strong bond between them. Kenzie would take it further, but Dahl continued to hold off for his marriage, and now she respected him even more for that. Despite all the shit they went through, time and again, some of these people still managed to hold down normal relationships.

Good fortune to them.

Kenzie did stare hard into those blue eyes though, enjoying the spark of friendship she saw there. “It’s been fun, Torst. Sharing this mission with you.”

The Swede smiled, and then turned serious. “Agreed. So let’s concentrate now, end it and go home in one piece.”

She continued to drink in the view. “You thought Cyrano and Patric were bad? This guy, Treacle — he’s pure evil.”

“I can’t accept that name.”

“He will try to kill us today.”

“Many have tried.” Dahl moved to her side. “Yet still we stand.”

“Love your faith. Maybe being with you will save me after all.”

“Always thought so.”

“I’m so glad we had this time alone.”

Dahl placed a hand on her arm. “You seem certain we’re about to die. I never saw that in you before. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“If I had known the almighty buyer of these Inca relics was Treacle I’d never have come,” Kenzie admitted. “Now we know he’s not only the buyer of almost every relic the seller has offered, he’s the buyer we double-crossed back in Nice when we killed Tremayne. And he knows that. If I’m being honest…” Kenzie’s brow creased in thought. “I would bet hard that Treacle ended up with every Inca treasure, even the ones he didn’t buy, if you get my drift.”

“I know you’re scared of this guy, and that’s not something I’ve seen in you before.”

Kenzie studied the view as if it might be the last thing she would ever see. “Time’s almost up.”

Their small lay-by, a parking area by the side of the road, might hold four cars if they were parked nose to ass. Dahl had purposely chosen the furthest space to allow a fast getaway. Directly before them now lay one of Monaco’s renowned tunnels, carved and cut out of the rock face and leading steadily down toward the bay.

“You think this Treacle person will reveal the line all the way to the seller?” Dahl asked. “Cops? Politicians? Generals? The whole lot just to possess an Inca vase?”

Kenzie cast an eye to the trunk where they had hidden the treasure. “Why not? He’s the only person on earth that will know. Plus, he holds most or all of the other pieces. If we’re to retrieve them we need him to trust us at least a little bit.”

“But you said he would try to kill us.”

“Yeah, for sure. Treacle has to do that for appearances’ sake. An evil reputation must be maintained.”

“Ah, of course. Never thought of it like that.”

Kenzie wiped her brow as the sun blazed down. Below, where the tunnel ended and the road swept down toward the town, she could see a toll station and three black SUVs inching through. Two came up fast, their engines roaring whilst the third rolled along at a relaxed pace as if taking in the sights. The first two approached, their engines loud through the tunnel, emerged and pulled off the road, parking behind Dahl, facing the other way. Blacked out windows revealed nothing.

“Keep it skin-tight,” Dahl said as the front doors of both vehicles cracked open simultaneously. “We take your lead.”

Kenzie loosened the katana at the same time as letting her right hand dangle over her concealed handgun. “I’m ready.”

“Surely they won’t cause a scene out here. It’s too public.”

Kenzie said nothing. Treacle was ruthless to the point of absolute ignorance and indifference. The fact was, it was more than a lack of morals, it was a total lack of giving a shit. In Treacle’s world, only Treacle ever mattered. All else was expendable dross.

Four men emerged from the two cars, all wearing cut-off T-shirts, sunglasses and baggy jeans. They carried weapons openly, grossly — not just small pistols but machine guns and rifles. One man bounced a hand grenade between both hands whilst smoking a cigarette. Another two bodyguards jumped out of the back and then the man himself appeared.

Blond, shaggy hair, tall, toned body. Late forties, and with a shit-eating grin. Just as she remembered him.

“Awwight, Tweacle?” he drawled smugly. “Lovellly day for it?”

“Still pretending you’re a Londoner?” Kenzie shifted only to gain a better vantage. “Have you forgotten you told me you were from Brooklyn?”

Treacle nodded. “Yeah, yeah, Tweacle, I remember. Did we fuck too?”

“If we did you would remember.”

“I dunno.” The blond head of hair shook. “I fuck a lot.”

Men spread out around the cars and the lay-by. Kenzie had noticed that the third vehicle still hadn’t emerged from the tunnel. Probably waiting on the other side as a precaution. Cars passed by slowly along the road, hopefully most of them missing the deadly exchange.

“You ready to deal?” she said.

“ ’Course I am. I’m a dealer aren’t I?”

“We have what you want. Do you have the information?”

“This Cyrano.” Treacle clearly wanted to slow it down. “Man’s a buyer too, yeah? Man found me, now thinks I owe him,” Laughter blasted from the offensive mouth. “Wanker… and why didn’t he want the vase?”

“He did. But we needed you.”

“ ’Course, ’course,” Treacle clearly knew he was important. “Makes sense. But why should I lower meself down to deal with a bint like you?”

“Because I have the relic.” Kenzie ignored the offensive word. She’d heard much worse. “And you want it.”

“I remember you.” Treacle moved closer, his men scrambling to move with him. “Right bitch you were. Angling to gazump me, you were. Bad all over and hot because of it. What happened?”

Kenzie shrugged.

Treacle included Dahl in his gaze for the first time. “Tweacle,” he acknowledged the Swede, then spoke to Kenzie. “This big boy bang the bad outta you?”

Not yet, Kenzie wanted to say. But I will keep trying. Instead she flexed her fingers and rolled a shoulder, drawing attention to the weapons. “We going to chat all day or deal? I have a roulette table just shouting my name out.”

“You and me both, Tweacle. You and me both. How ’bout you give us a flash? That’ll please the boys and speed things up.”

Kenzie drew her katana faster than a man could draw breath. “How about I chop their knackers into cutlets?”

Treacle coughed, wincing at the image. “Steady on, steady on. No need to be shirty. That’s a helluva a blade you got there, Tweacle. Makes me feel almost inadequate. Almost.” A sickly smile.

Kenzie made sure the tip of the sword pointed at the floor and was as shielded from passing traffic as was possible. “Who’s controlling the new thread of Inca artifacts? Where’s it coming from? Who’s involved? Now, or we walk.”

“You kiddin’? I’d love to watch you walk away.”

Treacle’s men guffawed. Kenzie waited.

“Tell you what, Tweacle.” He held up a thick file and flapped it at her. “I’ll make you a deal. You live, you get the information. You die, I’ll strip and defile your still warm body. Meet me at the Casino de Monte Carlo in an hour.”

The buyer’s self-confident grin twisted into a leer of hate. Dahl was fastest of all, drawing a Smith and Wesson and firing into two midriffs. Men twisted, falling. Kenzie swung the katana toward Treacle’s arm, but the man was fleet and danced away. Her upswing took a bodyguard across the abdomen, sent the gun he held clattering into the dirt. She continued her swing, allowing the momentum to turn her body and become a mad dash. The car doors were open. A bullet skimmed past her ass. Treacle cheered. Kenzie dived into the front seat as Dahl crouched alongside the wheel and took several pot shots.

“Get in!” Kenzie shouted. “Bastard wants to play, I’ll show him how the Mossad fucking play!”

Treacle disappeared into the back seat of his SUV, guards following. Dahl came around and jumped behind the driver’s seat. “What the hell is going on?”

“Foreplay,” Kenzie muttered. “Now make this bastard squeal.”

Dahl gunned the engine. “Which way?”

“Into Monaco, of course.”

Dahl scowled. “Where there’s a cop on every corner.”

Their car squealed as its tires spun in the dirt, spitting gravel out the back straight into the close-parked SUV’s rear end. They could hear the pepper-shot clatter even above the engines.

“That’ll knock a coat of paint off his insurance,” Kenzie joked with a grin.

“Shit, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Kenzie stroked the pommel of her katana. “What’s not to like?”

“How about near death?” Dahl loosed the car and squealed out into the road, cutting a fine arc and leaving a trail of rubber in his wake.

“Made friends with that asshole a decade ago. He doesn’t scare me.”

The entrance to the tunnel yawned ahead. Kenzie remembered the third SUV and told Dahl. Behind them, the other two SUVs made a great show of turning around.

“Y’know,” Kenzie said as they raced into the tunnel, darkness and then interior light replacing the sun. “All of a sudden, this doesn’t feel right.”

It was a short tunnel. Already they could see the end.

“You think they’re waiting at the other end?”

“No. I think—”

The enormous sound of an explosion and cracks appearing along the roof of the tunnel, the fireball and the flames, told her she hadn’t been thinking along the right lines at all.