Poseidon's Ransom

Chapter Forty Six

The big lorry made its way west, along the A8 autoroute. Washington relaxed into the comfy passenger seat next to the Polish driver and closed his eyes. They’d only been on the road for a little over twenty minutes, when the overhead signs flashed to indicate two lanes had been closed.

‘Looks like accident ahead, mister.’

Washington sat up and rubbed his eyes. ‘Bad?’

‘Don’t know. But it slows traffic a lot.’

It took almost thirty-five minutes for them to get to the accident site. As they approached the scene, a couple of police officers were supervising the removal of the wrecked vehicle. The third lane had been coned-off, and another two officers were waving the long line of trucks and cars through. As the Polish truck slowly edged past, Washington grinned when he saw the remains of his Audi being loaded onto the recovery truck.

It was after three in the morning when they pulled into the last services before the Lyon turn-off. Washington had managed to get a couple of hours of much needed sleep and after paying the driver his hundred euros, said, ‘Thank you and safe journey.’

‘Thanks, mister, but I’m nearly there. Ten minutes more to Lyon and then I sleep also.’

As he swung the heavy door closed, Washington said, ‘Whatever!’

The Lyon services were not as busy as Monaco, but there were enough trucks to hope a ride north would be possible. Unfortunately, as it was the middle of the night, it looked like all the drivers had battened-down and were now sleeping. He saw the big illuminated M and headed for McDonalds.

After two Royales, a double portion of fries and a half litre of Coca Cola, he felt better. As he settled down in one of the comfier seats, he shook his head slightly and thought, Royale? Really? Fuckin French, what the hell’s wrong with calling it a Big Mac?

By 6am the truckers were stirring, and the various eateries were beginning to fill up. He went and bought a large black coffee and started walking around the tables. It didn’t take long to find a French driver who was heading to Paris.

The driver, who was clearly gay, seemed delighted to give the American a lift. ‘Oui monsieur, après manger, we go.’

Washington nodded. ‘Okay, thank you. I’ll just get another coffee,’ then, as he walked to the counter, said under his breath, ‘Jesus!’

In Berkshire it was almost 5am when the Jaguar drove through the big gates of Jack’s home. The sun had been up for over an hour, and so had Nicole.

‘They’re here, Nicole,’ shouted Brian, their live-in security man.

Nicole was at the door as the Jag pulled up to the front of the house. Jack climbed out and took her in his arms. ‘Hey,’ he said after kissing her, ‘why’re you up so early?’

‘Like I’m going to be asleep when you get home.’ She turned to the group of men by the car. ‘And guests. Most wives get gifts when their man comes home. I get guests.’

‘Sorry, babe,’ said Jack, unconvincingly.

She smiled and moved to hug Mathew, ‘Hello, darling. Lovely to see you again.’

‘You too, Nikki. Gorgeous as ever.’

‘And this is Bogdan.’ She hugged him, then kissed his cheek. ‘Welcome to our home. I’ve heard so much about you.’

The big Russian, clearly smitten by her charm, lapsed straight into their native tongue. For several moments their exchange continued, speaking so fast it was difficult for Jack, or Mathew, to keep up. Finally, with a laugh, she linked her arm through Bogdan’s, and said, ‘Right. There’s breakfast for everyone in the dining room,’ then, turning to Mathew’s driver, continued, ‘you too, young man.’

As they all entered the large hallway, Mathew put his arm round his brother’s shoulder and said, ‘Looks like the big guy has fallen for your wife, Jack.’

The driver, bringing up the rear, said under his breath, ‘Don’t blame him.’