Private Gold

Chapter 17

“Where’s the lady?” the angry man repeated, blocking Steyn’s way out of the front door and fixing him with a glare.

Steyn took a cool, unemotional look at his adversary. He noted the tightness of his grip on the Taser and the aggressive set of his jaw. Undoubtedly, this man was wired for action, and wouldn’t hesitate to use one of his two weapons.

Steyn’s gun was holstered out of sight, under his rain jacket.

Even without his firearm, Steyn knew he was more than capable of disarming and killing this amateur. Given time, Steyn would have enjoyed using both the man’s weapons against him. But right now, he didn’t have the luxury of time. Killing could be done quickly, but disposing of the body would take longer.

He decided that, in this case, talking his way out of the situation would work best. Of course, there was a chance that Mr. Taser wouldn’t believe him, and in that case he’d go ahead with Plan B.

Depending on his reaction to Steyn, the angry man would be choosing to live or die, without even knowing it.

There was a poetic justice to this that Steyn found pleasing.

“The lady is in the bathroom. She needs a few minutes alone to stop crying and pull herself together before we leave,” he said, injecting a strong London accent into his voice and making sure it quivered with emotion. Raising his voice, he called out, “It’s OK, darling. It’s just a neighbor who heard the shots. Take your time. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He turned back to the visitor. “We’re getting out of this hellhole — we were totally misled. It was supposed to be safe, secure accommodation in a quiet area.” He snorted. “Never believe what you read on a website. I’ll be telling TripAdvisor about this as soon as we get back home. I never, ever want to go through such horror again. I can’t believe we’re still alive.”

Emotions flickered over Mr. Taser’s face. Aggression was replaced first by doubt, and then by curiosity.

“What happened?”

“We were attacked by armed robbers. Two of them, both carrying guns. They must have followed us from the airport... I tried to check my mirrors as you’re supposed to do, but in the rain...” He shrugged. “I guess it made it easy for them. We locked ourselves in when we arrived, not that it made a difference.” He glanced at the broken lock. “We’d just started unpacking when we heard the noise. We weren’t sure what it was. Susan thought it was somebody knocking. She walked out of the bedroom and I heard her scream. I ran to help, and saw two armed robbers had forced this door open and were invading the house.”

“Bastards,” the Taser-carrying man said with feeling, staring at the splintered frame. Steyn noted that his hands had relaxed.

“All I could think of was drawing those guns away from Susan and keeping her safe. I shouted to her to run to the bathroom and lock the door. I have some karate experience — in my twenties, I got to brown belt. I was able to tackle one of the men at the door. I knocked his gun out of his hand, and it fell onto the grass outside. Then I kicked him in the groin, so he was out of the fight. But the other aimed his pistol straight at me. It was... I don’t know how to describe it. It was like everything happened in slow motion. I flung myself on the ground as he fired twice. The shots went through that window. If I’d been any slower, they would have hit me in the chest.”

“Hell. Someone was looking after you there.”

“Yes, somebody was. Because after that, I was lying on the ground looking up at the man, and he pointed the gun down at me. He aimed it straight at my head.”

“Serious?”

Steyn paused before continuing. “It was a misfire. The gun jammed. But it broke his nerve. The other robber had crawled outside to get his gun, and I think he gave us up as a bad job. He hadn’t expected a fight. He ran out, helped his accomplice into the car, and they sped off in that direction.” Steyn pointed. Mr. Taser’s eyes followed his finger. “The car was a black Toyota,” he added.

“Did you get the license plate?”

“I didn’t get the plate. But I could identify the guys in a heartbeat if they’re found.”

Enough with the garrulousness, Steyn decided. A man in shock would either stay silent or babble. He’d babbled enough... it was time to end the story now.

“Man, you had a lucky escape there.”

Steyn nodded.

“Have you called the police?”

“We’ll go to the police station and report it. I’m not waiting here.”

“Can’t say I blame you.”

“Be careful. They may be in the area, planning to come back. I think you should stay inside, and lock up tight.”

Mr. Taser considered this advice before nodding decisively. “I will do. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He turned away and walked down the road. Steyn noted that his tumbledown home was behind a solid, if peeling, wall and had no direct view of this house. All the better. He didn’t have to playact any longer. He could get back to work now, and make up for the time he’d lost in spinning that ridiculous story.

Heading toward the highway, Steyn focused on his biggest imperatives.

It was clear where the woman was headed — he’d known that even before opening her notebook, where the coordinates were written on the very first page. So, imperative number one was to delay the approaching freight truck so that it never reached the rendezvous point. That would mean putting the emergency plan into operation — the one he’d discussed with his employer a while ago.

Imperative number two: he was going to find out who Isobel Collins’s knight in shining armor was. It would be easy enough to do, because he’d seen the SUV’s license plate during the chase, and he could obtain the owner’s name from one of his connections. The SUV driver was posing a serious threat to the success of this job, and he would need to be neutralized. The sooner, the better, because there was a big risk that Isobel would already have told him what she knew.

Steyn adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, noting with surprise that his palms were sweating.

Every job came with unexpected twists. But this one was spiraling out of control, with more and more variables and delays.

Each variable, every delay, meant a massive increase in risk. Covering one set of tracks was easy. But he had left multiple tracks so far, crisscrossing each other, all leading, ultimately, back to him.

Dark places... cramped and airless. The thought of being arrested and locked away made him feel dizzy. He’d never spent a night in prison, but he had older memories of confinement — ones that he couldn’t remember clearly, fragments of being somewhere dark, with the only light shining in through a tiny crack above his head, while his heels drummed at the sides of the cupboard, cellar, box... wherever it was that he had been imprisoned. He remembered pain, thirst, gnawing hunger.

Those were the only times he’d ever felt fear.

Steyn reached the highway and put his foot down. After the storm, the evening was cool, and the car’s air-conditioning was on its lowest setting. Even so, he felt beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

He’d always known, deep down, that one of the jobs he took on would end up being his last.

“But not this one,” he muttered, accelerating into the misty evening. “Not this one.”