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.’
Chapter Thirty Nine
It was almost three o’clock when Rick Washington walked down the steps of the Hotel Vendome.
‘Boss. Look, is him.’
‘Go get the car, big man.’
Jack watched as the man across the square casually left the hotel and made his way to the garage entrance. Jack couldn’t believe his eyes. There was nothing left of the old Greg Stoneham. That’s an amazing transformation. I’ll give ya that, he said to himself.
A minute or two later the Range Rover pulled up to the side of the Bistro Helene. Jack dropped a handful of euros on the table and joined Bogdan. As he climbed in, the Audi emerged from the garage.
‘Not too close, buddy. Let’s see what he’s up to. If we can take him quietly, we will.’
The Russian nodded. ‘Da. Play it by my ear, boss.’
Jack grinned. ‘Yeah, buddy. Play it by your ear.’
They followed the sleek Audi out of the square and into the busier streets of the Castellane district. It wasn’t long before they saw the signs for the Marseille docks area. The town streets were busy but, once they got onto the main highway, the trucks and wagons increased dramatically. About thirty-five minutes after leaving the Vendome, the Audi turned off the main highway and onto the Quai de Maroc. Jack watched as the Audi, now half a dozen cars in front of them, moved slowly along the quay side and into the huge carpark.
‘Pull-in where you can, buddy. Not too close.’
Bogdan took the ticket from the machine and the barrier swung up. Jack lost sight of the low-slung Audi for a few seconds then, as Bogdan pulled into a vacant space, saw Washington getting out of his car. For a split second he thought their eyes made contact but, when he looked back, there was no panic in how Washington made his way from the carpark.
It was the hottest part of the day, but the cool wind coming off the sea, gave some welcome relief from the sun’s rays. They continued to follow the American along the Quai de Maroc towards several waiting ships.
‘Looks like he’s heading for the ferry, boss.’
‘Yeah, but which one?’
The crowds of passengers making their way to the Terminal made it easy to follow Washington. They watched as he entered Departures. ‘That’s it,’ said Jack, ‘he’s definitely taking one of the ferries.’
‘Gun,’ said Bogdan, quietly.
‘What?’
‘Gimme your weapon. There will be security here.’
Jack nodded and discreetly passed his gun to the Russian. ‘Wait here, boss. I take to truck.’
As the big man trotted off, Jack took out his smartphone and tapped the screen.
‘Mathew?’
‘Jack, hi there, You okay?’
‘Yeah, we’re good, Matt. Need some help. Fast.’
‘Tell me?’
‘What is the next ferry due to leave Marseille. Where is it going. And I need two tickets on it.’
‘Hold on,’ said Mathew, then shouted, ‘Victoria!’
Jack wiped the sweat from his face, then turned to see Bogdan trotting up behind. ‘Okay, boss. What is plan?’
‘Hold on, buddy. Go ahead, Matt.’
Jack. Next departure is eighteen-hundred, local-time, today. Heading for Algiers. No cabins left. She got you two reclining seats in the Business Lounge. Tickets will be with you in a couple of minutes.’
‘That’s great. Thanks, Matt. I’ll be in touch when we’re underway.’
‘Be safe Jack… I hope the crossings not too bad. I know you get sea-sick.’
‘Thanks for reminding me.’
The line went silent.
‘Boss?’
‘We’re sailing to Algiers, big man.’
‘Niet, niet, niet,’ said Bogdan, ‘I have the seasick.’