Poseidon's Ransom

Chapter Thirty Eight

The voyage across the Mediterranean would take the best part of twenty-four hours, so Washington booked a small stateroom. His ticket was available on his phone and all he needed to do now was wait, then check in for embarkation two hours before sailing.

Across the square in the Bistro Helene, Jack was beginning to feel a little conspicuous. They had been there for almost four hours. They’d eaten breakfast, drunk several pots of tea and now lunch was being served.

‘Let’s order a sandwich or something.’

‘Okay, boss. But we can’t sit here all day.’

‘No, but this is the best place to watch the garage and the front entrance.’

‘Why not just go in and get this fucker, boss?’

‘We could. I’ve done it before, but I had a couple of CIA guys waiting to cart the bastard off.’

Bogdan, with a surprised tone to his voice, said, ‘You had him before?’

Jack nodded and smiled. ‘Yeah. We were on a job in Syria. A joint effort between MI6 and the Yanks. This guy was running the CIA end of the operation.’

Bogdan leaned forward, as Jack lowered his voice.

‘The Yanks were to extract us, but this guy,’ Jack nodded towards the hotel, ‘called off the chopper. Left us to fight our way out with an ISIS hit squad on our arses.’

‘Fuck, boss. What happens?’

‘They discovered he’d been working with ISIS. On their payroll for a couple of years. Giving them all kinds of shit. Helping them. For money of course. He disappeared. But Tom Hillman and I tracked him down to a hotel in Istanbul.’

‘And you don’t kill him?’

Jack smiled and looked around at the other customers. No one was paying them any attention. ‘Obviously not, big man. We did put the fear-of-Christ up him though. Then handed him over to the CIA.’

‘So how is he still free?’

‘They had him in a black-site, in Panama, were flying him back to the States when the chopper went down. He survived and escaped.’

‘Lucky bastard.’

‘He’s that alright. He was off-the-radar for over a year, then turned up again. He was targeting MI6 and CIA operatives and assets all over the world.’

Bogdan nodded. ‘Revenge, da?’

‘Yeah. But then the North Koreans recruited him.’

‘Jeezus, boss. This guy is mercenary superstar.’

Jack laughed at the comment as the waitress arrived. ‘You want something else, gentlemen?’

Jack nodded. ‘Bring us two steak sandwiches. A coke and a beer, please.’

As she left, Bogdan said, ‘So, what happens with Koreans?’

‘Washington… Greg Stoneham, as he was called then… did some nasty shit to the water supply in the UK and America.’

‘Ah, okay. Da, I see this on TV. Bad shit. Many people think it is Russia who does this.’

The waitress returned with the drinks, smiled and left.

‘I tracked him to Saudi. Almost had him, but I got pretty badly injured. Was out of it for weeks.’

The big man swallowed half the beer, then said, ‘He gets away again?’

Jack nodded. ‘Yeah, he escaped, but we tracked him down to Istanbul again.’

‘He likes Istanbul. Da?’

‘I guess so. We caught him in the Blue Mosque. But not before he killed one of our team.’

‘Shit!’

‘Yeah, a good guy too. Anyway, the police take him, but he kills the two cops and escapes again.’

‘Fuck, boss. This guy is a Houdini?’

‘Not Houdini. Maybe just has nine lives?’

Bogdan grinned. ‘Da, nines lives like cat. But in Russian we have saying. Cat has nine lives, but wolf has big teeth.’

‘Not heard that one before, buddy.’

The big man grinned. ‘Da, okay. Maybe I just make it up now.’

Jack laughed. ‘But he’s not gonna get away this time. This time he stays caught.’

‘Or dead, boss.’