His shirt fell to the floor, and he started to unbuckle his belt. “Relax, Mademoiselle. You don’t need to be afraid, I’m just going to show you a good time.”
Annabelle, couldn’t believe what was happening, was fraught with fear, and then remembered what her father had taught her about trying to stay very calm in dangerous situations.
“Well, you’d better get it over with, then, hadn’t you?” Annabelle said.
The Frenchman grabbed the top of her arms, and tried to kiss her. Annabelle swiftly brought her knee up, driving it hard into his balls, which made him squeal like a pig at market.
“Oh what a shame, are you all done in?” she said stepping away from him.
Holding his crotch with both hands, Pierre doubled up, and rolled onto the floor, all the time moaning with the searing pain. Annabelle immediately bent down, and retrieved the Walther from under the chair. She stood with the gun in her hand, and pointed it at the Frenchman. “I’m going to give you to the count of five, you pathetic little man. And if you’re not out of my house by them, I’m going to shoot you. Do you understand? But, this time, I’ll make sure the bullet hits you square in the head. Now get up and clear off.”
The Frenchman slowly stood up, one hand still holding onto his aching genitals. “Don’t worry, Mademoiselle, there’s always the next time.” He sneered.
“In your dreams, little man.” Annabelle said, shakily, and waved the gun at him.
He turned, and started to walk away, changed his mind and tried to grab the Walther out of her hand. The silenced pistol spat at him, and the Frenchman was knocked backwards, as the bullet slammed into his left shoulder. He wasted no time in picking himself up off of the floor this time, and only looked back once, as he ran up the hall and out of the front door.
Chapter Fourteen
Malakoff was sitting at a polished oak desk, in his study on board the Solitaire. A phone to his ear, listening intently to what Kurt was saying at the other end of the line.
“So, the girl talked, did she? And you’re sure she’s telling the truth?”
“I’ve no doubt about that, Mien Herr.”
“Have you disposed of her, Kurt?”
“Pierre is having a little fun with her first, Mien Herr. You know what he’s like.”
“You idiot; she must be dealt with quickly, before Dillon and the others return.”
“No sweat, Mien Herr,” Kurt told him. “I assure you, the girl will be dealt with. Just like Albert Bishop.”
“You make sure you do, Kurt. Because, I do not want anything leading back to the Solitaire or myself. Is that understood?”
“Of course, Mien Herr. That goes without saying. What do you want us to do, after we’ve taken care of the girl?”
“Keep your mobile phone switched on, and call me when you’re done. I’ll have instructions for you.” Malakoff cut the connection, and went straight up to the bridge to talk with Captain Armand.
Dressed in crisp white tropical uniform, the captain turned and saluted Malakoff as he came onto the bridge of the luxury cruiser.
“They’re diving close to the cliffs at the Devil’s Hole, Armand.”
The Captain went over to the chart table, and sifted through some of the charts that were already out on the top. When he’d found the one he’d been looking for, he spread it out and ran his forefinger along the line of the coast.
“Ah, yes, here we are, Monsieur.” He said indicating a point on the chart.
Malakoff had a look, frowning slightly. “Dillon and the others have gone there this morning to dive, in the hope of finding the tunnel entrance. But, the question is, Armand. Should we follow them immediately, or simply wait for them to locate it, and then move in on them?”
“If you want my honest and professional opinion, Monsieur. When Dillon and Chapman dive there, I hope that they both have a firm belief in God. Because, when I called the Coast Guard this morning, to get an update for our on-board weather system. They confirmed that the tidal current around the island, is running at around fourteen knots today. This Devil’s Hole area is a very bad place to dive, Monsieur, so let’s hope they know what they’re letting themselves in for. However, it would be extremely prudent for us to move out into deeper water. Say half a mile off shore, keeping to their blind side, just to keep our eye on them.”
“I see what you’re saying, Captain,” Malakoff said. “What you’re suggesting, sounds as if it could be entertaining. But, they would surely spot the Solitaire immediately; however, as you say it would allow us to see what happens from a safe distance. And, we don’t want to get to close, especially as we’ve discovered that they’re armed and amateurishly dangerous.” He sniggered at his own witticism, studied the chart again, and nodded. “I can see no logical reason, for them not to do all of the hard work for us. Then, if they succeed in locating that tunnel entrance unhindered, it will make them feel good. They’ll think that they’ve outsmarted us, after Dillon’s little stunt with the police last night. When Kurt and Pierre don’t turn up, they’ll drop their guard, and think that the police still have them in custody. By the way, Armand. How much did their early release cost me?”
“To drop all charges, just under seventy thousand pounds, Monsieur,”
“I suppose it was the Uzi, which pushed the price up?”
“It didn’t help, Monsieur. And, I’m afraid that our friendly desk sergeant had no choice but to confiscate it as well.”
“Remind me to deduct the entire amount out of Kurt’s bonus for this job.”
“Of course, Monsieur.”
Malakoff paced up and down the bridge, contemplating the situation, and what his next move should be. After a few minutes, he stopped pacing, and said, “Armand, send Mazzarin and Zola out in the inflatable to keep an eye on Mr Dillon and his friends. Oh, and give them a two way radio, I want a report every half an hour. The Solitaire will remain here in Gifford Bay.”
“And then, Monsieur?”
“We’ll wait for them, Armand. They’ll be eager to get their hands on the Spear of Destiny, and any gold bullion that is on that U-boat. And, once they’ve got it, they’ll return to Bonne Nuit. All we’ve got to do then is pick our moment, and hit them hard.”
“Shall I make ready for a quick departure, Monsieur?”
“No, I don’t think so, Armand. We’ll head down to St. Helier, and spend the night in the marina. We’ll then head straight for St Malo in the morning, and then on to the château in the jet. Please radio ahead and ensure that the pilots are put on standby.”
The phone in Malakoff’s pocket started to ring. “It’s Kurt calling me back. I’ll be in my study.” Malakoff said, answered the call, and briskly walked away.
Kurt hung up, and stood holding the mobile phone in front of him for a brief moment, before getting back into the driver’s seat of the Porsche. The Frenchman was sitting in the passenger seat, holding a wad of blood stained material against his wounded shoulder.
“Don’t look so worried, Frenchman. You’re not going to die from that bullet wound, and I haven’t snitched on you either. After all, I don’t want Herr Malakoff to know that you’ve fucked up again. It looks bad on me, and let’s be honest; with the girl escaping without even a scratch on her. Well, we’ve failed him miserably. But, this is the last time you mess up Frenchman. I’ll not tolerate your inability to keep your dick inside your trousers. And, if you step out of line once more. I will personally see to it, that you’re dispatched to hell, with as much pain as I can possibly inflict on a living person. Do I make myself clear?”
Pierre glowered at the big German, thought about retaliating, but ended up simply nodding his head. “So what are we to do now?” He said grimacing at the searing pain in his left shoulder.