Counterpoint (36 page)

That night at 8pm in a dark back alley
a group of eight men stood between the open boots of their cars,
parked back to back. The crucial exchange of cocaine for money was
taking place between two of Jacko’s rivals. At that moment two
black and white police cars glided in, one at each end, blocking
off any escape. The police shouted a warning and advanced. A long
burst of silenced gunfire from the building above laid out the
eight men before they got a shot off.

Carla reversed the
police car out of the alley, turned, and reversed back in again so
Jacko and his men in police uniform, could load up her car with the
money and cocaine. Jacko was on a high, he was now
the man,
with money,
drugs and the girl. He was pinning Carla against the side of the
car as she was tonguing him all the way back to his glottis. Carla
eased away from the side of the car, he had a boner like an axe
handle.

When the loading was complete, she
slipped back behind the wheel locked the doors and floored the
accelerator. She ducked as shots were fired and yanked the steering
wheel round, so the car emerged from the alley with the traffic
flow. Moments later she turned up another dark alley, pulled up
alongside a water utility truck waiting with its back doors open,
and the engine running. The drugs and money were quickly
transferred, and the water utility truck, quietly drove away.

“I hope you’re good with a needle?”
Said Max.

“Why, couldn’t you get your uniform to
fit?” She replied.

“No, mine’s fine, it’s yours that has
the problem.”

“That’s a shame, ” she smiled, “One
thing I cannot do is sew.”

"I'll have to do it
then," said Max, “You can get the sewing machine, I’m not doing
it,
it is bad for my image!” He
joked.

The Paragliding training was not going
well. There was no way Max could bring himself to throw himself off
a hillside, let alone a mountain. His instructor had lost patience
with him and even called him a pussy. A good shove was all that was
required in the end, and then he soared up and around like a leaf
in a gale. After a while, he got the hang of it and even his
landing was good. As usual, Carla soon mastered the technique, and
they soared together.

The instructor was surprised at their
need to practise putting on the harness, with their eyes closed. In
no time at all, they could harness up and be airborne almost like
the hounds of hell were after them.

The next few days were an anti-climax.
Research at the local library and on the Internet turned up a good
photo of Mrs Yeltsin. It also highlighted her fear of flying. Based
on this Carla thought the woman probably drove to the city rather
than going in her husbands’ helicopter. They lay in wait for her at
the bottom of the mountain road next to the water pumping
station.

Several days passed before a gold Lexus
glided past them. Yeltsin’s wife was sitting in the back with a
beautiful blonde girl next to her. Two more gorgeous girls sat in
the front, one driving.

Carla drove a discrete distance behind
in the utility truck, Max changed out of uniform into a smart suit
as she drove. The Lexus parked in an exclusive underground
car-park, so Max got out of the truck and followed the woman to the
shops. Carla drove quickly back to the lock-up, changed into smart
clothes and a mild disguise, returning to the shops in their hired
car. Max phoned with instructions on how to find him in the
shopping Mall.

Before meeting up, Carla had a bright
idea and went to where the Lexus was parked. She looked it over and
returned to the shops. Back together again Max and Carla checked
their plan, she added her idea about the Lexus, as well.

Mrs Yeltsin and the three girls had
made their way into a crowded area of a large department store. To
the casual eye the party could have been a wealthy mother and her
three stunning daughters out on a shopping spree. However, a closer
study revealed the girls were stony-faced, uninterested in anything
in the shops, and seldom looked at one another. Although the older
woman was talking, they never appeared to answer her
conversationally. Carla knew these were no Barbie dolls; they were
probably Russian fashion accessory bodyguards. Their immaculate
tailoring probably concealed a variety of weapons and body armour
as well as a physique honed for defence. If not downright
killing.

The girls glided gracefully through the
crowd with Mrs Yeltsin in a clear space between them. In this
space, she walked and talked freely as though apart from her and
the girls, there was no one else in the store. The girl’s eyes
constantly scanned the faces and vantage points, their heads
turning to look all around. Discreetly, they each wore an earpiece
and spoke without looking at anyone in particular. Carla murmured
to Max as they approached them “This is a bad idea; we’re out of
our depth here.”

"Nonsense," said Max. “Mrs Yeltsin
looks pleasant enough, I don’t think we will have any trouble we’re
not expecting,” Carla scowled, she knew what her senses were
telling her, and it was not good news.

Carla spotted the driver; she was on
the far side of the party, so Carla made a circuitous route towards
her. Standing close to the girl in the jostling crowd, Carla felt
her up, body armour, a small automatic in the pit of her back, no
shoulder holster, and knife probably inside right sleeve. Hands
beautifully manicured, short nails, calloused knuckles on the
joints and long powerful fingers. Shoes with strong, broad heels,
thick soles, elegant style uppers, probably concealed weapons.

The tall girl resisted the push and
jostle of the crowd as though she was a concrete bollard. Even so,
a feigned push by Carla caused her to move away from Mrs Yeltsin.
Carla flowed into the space, feeling and dipping the girl’s pocket
under the cover of a large carrier bag. She surged forward like any
other frantic shopper on the trail of a bargain, into the
crowd.

Max approached Mrs Yeltsin head-on and
stopped as the party walked up to him. Smiling Max offered his
hand, which was not taken. Mrs Yeltsin smiled back from between the
two front girls. “My name is Jack Stone, ” he said still smiling,
“Your husband hired my son recently, I need to contact him. Here is
his photograph,” he said as he thrust it towards her. Mrs Yeltsin
took it, glanced at it and handed it back saying “Sorry I can’t
help you. Perhaps you should speak to my husband. We are holding a
party tomorrow afternoon, around the pool, and dinner in the
evening. Please come along, bring your partner as well.”

“I’d love to,” replied Max. “Make sure
you bring your swimming costumes for the afternoon and a change of
clothes for dinner, or you won’t be able to join us. There will be
staff on hand to attend to your needs, so we will see you at
2:30pm.” A girl offered a card with the house address and signed on
the back. “Present the card at the gate and you will be let
in.”

Mrs Yeltsin offered her hand, Max shook
it, and the group walked away from him.

Five minutes later Carla phoned to say
she was driving the Lexus back to the lock-up. Max found the hired
car, drove back to meet Carla, then they both went back to her
hotel.

“How did it go with you?” She asked
Max.

“I don’t know really, it was as if she
was expecting me. We have been invited back to their place for a
bit of a bash tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll meet Gregor himself.
Funny invitation though, she insisted we met at the pool in our
swimwear.”

“Routine really, ” replied Carla. “I
bet you don’t get to talk to him until you have had a fair time in
the water. It tends to spoil any electronic bugs on you, assuming
you can find anywhere to put one.”

“You’re bloody amazing; you know every
trick in the book, don’t you?”

“I know a few, “she smiled,
angelically.

After some necessary preparations, Max
and Carla arrived at the Yeltsin’s house. The gate man saw the card
and let them in.

From the number of extremely expensive
cars, Max estimated there must be at least 40 parked there. When
they got out of their car they were welcomed by an attendant in
some sort of uniform and directed to a small bedroom on the first
floor where they could change for the pool and later, prepare for
dinner that evening.

The house was magnificent inside,
plenty of character and old world charm with polished hardwood
joinery, dark timber beams, white moulded plaster and exposed stone
walls. Massive portrait paintings adorned the walls of the
impressive curved, polished marble staircase, with smaller
landscapes along the passageways.

At intervals along the long, wide
landing were side-tables lit with cosy table lamps and decorated
with large sprays of fresh flowers.

Heavy oak doors set in polished and
carved stone frames led to the moderate, but adequate double guest
bedrooms complete with fully featured en-suite bathroom
facilities.

A note on the dressing table in their
room informed them that a hairdresser and beautician were available
if they needed any assistance.

The pool was on the terrace area at the
back of the house that cantilevered out of the cliff-face. A 1.5
metre high wall around its perimeter was all the prevented a person
falling to their death in the city below. This view was
breathtaking; the city lay sprawled out below as far as the eye
could see. Cars and buildings looked like toys, so far below

Snacks and drinks were available from
the bar, as much and whatever you wanted. The guests range from
elderly men and women, to young families. Gregor certainly knew how
to give a good time.

“Where are our host and hostess?” Said
Max as he surveyed the crowded area. “Gregor went to the pool when
we came out on the terrace,” commented Carla. “What a girl, she
doesn’t miss a thing,” Max thought. “Let’s have a splash about
then, ” he replied, and they dived into the large, rather crowded
pool.

10 minutes later they climbed out.
Before they could look up, two fresh white, neatly folded luxury
towels were offered to them, by one of the girls that accompanied
Mrs Yeltsin to the shops. She was the girl Carla lifted the car
keys from. If she recognised Carla, she didn’t show it.

In a friendly voice, she asked them
both to follow her to meet the host. Her English was excellent and
with the strong Russian accent, it was most attractive Max
thought.

Carla appraised the
girl. Her beauty, grace, and perfect physique must have made her
the envy of every woman. Carla hated her already and hung on to
Max’s hairy arm in a
he’s mine so don’t
mess with me
look.

Gregor welcomed them both as if they
were special to him.

Max introduced Carla as Miss Jane
Tyler, whom he met on the plane coming over. Max thought, the man
is just like the impression he got from the portrait in the office
reception hall. “Well Jack I understand from Alanya my wife that
you wanted to talk to me about your son Matt Stone.”

“Yes,” said Max as he fidgeted with the
contents of his waistband, pausing his reply for a moment until he
retrieved a small plastic pouch from it. “Perhaps you would look at
this,” he said, as he quickly thrust something from the pouch into
Gregor’s hand. It was just a photo of Matt, but Gregor was taken by
surprise by the expert way Max had passed it to him, relying on
Gregor’s reflex action to grab it before realising what he had
done. Gregor took it and glanced at it and said, surprised, “Yes, I
know what he looks like.”

Then Max took it back again and
re-pouched it. “Sorry, I assumed you had so many people working for
you, you might have found it helpful. Well, anyway,” he continued
“I have lost touch with him and must speak with him about a
personal matter” Carla could tell from the body language that
Gregor did not believe a word of what was said, but went along with
it nevertheless.

“Yes, Matt applied for a job as a
security agent for one of my companies, but I felt his military
skills would be wasted in that role, so I didn’t hire him.”

“Oh! That is a shame; I seem to have
come to a dead end,” replied Max. “I think you might be right,”
said Gregor smiling; an evil twinkle appeared in his large brown
eyes. “Still, never give up,” he said,” and I insist you both still
join us at dinner.”

“Well, as long as there is room for
us,” said Max, “You have so many guests here.”

“Not many will be dining with us, so
space is not a problem,” he replied firmly.

“Okay then we would love to,” agreed
Max, looking sideways, anxiously at Carla. She just smiled sweetly
back at both him and Gregor.

The girl with the towels suggested they
came with her to the bar and snacks. It was obviously a closing of
the meeting with Gregor, as he waved politely and stepped away.

“I don’t know where all this playacting
is going to lead,” said Carla. “Gregor is not going to let you walk
out of here with his fingerprints. I was impressed though how you
did it, so quick he didn’t expect it. Still, unless you get away,
you’re a dead man walking.”

“Oh! Thanks,
you
make me feel so secure.”

“Well, I’m paddling the same canoe,
“replied Carla in a controlled tone.

They spent the afternoon talking and
swimming, trying to come up with a way of leaving. Sure, they could
just get in their car and drive out, but the security personnel
were watching them like hawks. Movement in the direction of the
gate, was blocked by the guards, in a quiet but threatening
way.

The time had come to dress for dinner.
Still no plan yet. “We might as well make the best of it,” said
Max, but Carla was too uptight to reply. Her face was natural, not
tensed in any way, but her eyes were intense, and either, focused
hard as she thought or darted back and forth as her lightning brain
search for answers.