Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) (24 page)

low would not be as clandestine as his masters would like to believe.
Pulling into the British embassy with an unconscious Irishman in his
Range Rover would have resulted in his arrest
by the South
African
policemen who guarded the
building. Jack
did not
have
diplomatic
plates, but the car on its way to his office to pick up Barry would have.
The police would not stop and search the diplomatic car. That would
have been a slap across the face to the British government and it would
have started a row that could affect the relationship between the two
countries for years to come.

From the comfort
of his chair Jack noticed that the lights had
come back on the floor level indicator of the lift at the far side of the
office. The distance between Jack and the lift meant that he could not

see which floor the lift was currently
on, but it looked to be on one
of
the lower floors. The lights started to flicker and shift. Jack initially felt
mild relief—he hated using the stairs—there were too many blind
corners for an attacker to hide behind. That relief quickly changed to
mild concern. Someone was in the lift and they were heading his way.
Jack got up from his chair. He left his private office and he moved
to his PA’s desk, which was off to one side, but it offered a clear view
of
the lift. Jack pulled the gun
out
of the waistband
of his trousers and
then he knelt into a
defensive position behind the desk. He took the
weapon in both hands and he carefully aimed the gun in the direction
of the lift.

Jack had a bad feeling. The embassy was twenty minutes away, if
the road was clear—but in his experience, that road was never completely clear. They could not have got to him that quickly. Jack took a
deep breath as the numbers above the
doors
of the lift
counted up.
When the lift came to a stop on his floor he took another deep breath to
steady
his aim.
The
doors
opened. Three
men
stepped
out.
They
walked into the
office. The doors to the lift closed behind them. Jack
fired two rounds, hitting two of the men in the head. The men hit the
floor dead.

Robert looked angry and frightened all at
once when his two most
trusted goons lay
dead at his feet. The concern
on his face deepened
when he watched as Jack stood up from behind the desk with his gun
aimed at Robert. Jack walked into the middle of the room. Robert

Jack continued to walk slowly towards Robert. It was
deliberate
and calculated and intended to cause Robert as
much distress as he
possibly could.

“Hello Robert,” Jack said, with menace. “It is really nice to see you
again. It will certainly save me a lot of time and effort having to track
you down.”

“What can I do for you, Jack?” Robert asked, almost pleading.
“I think that you know exactly what you can do for me. More than
that Robert; you are going to do exactly what I want you to do. Do we
have an understanding?”
“I believe that we do.”
“Good. You can use the phone in my office.”
Robert looked confused for a
moment. He suddenly realised what
was being asked of him. His entire appearance changed to that of submissive helpfulness. It was a far cry from the hardened thug Jack had
met with only a few short hours before. Or the self-important gangster
who had ordered Jack’s execution.
“I will call
my
men
now,” Robert said. “I will tell them to bring
your girl to you straight away.”
“You will tell them to put her behind the wheel
of a car. She can
drive herself. If I see someone out
on the street who might
even look
like they are one of your associates, then you are a dead man. Now be
a nice lad; call your men and hopefully we can all walk away from this
sorry mess in one piece. How does that sound to you?”
“That sounds like a plan that I can live with.”
As they walked through to the office Jack knew that his captive was
already
planning his next move; and that
move would end with Jack
lying dead if it was successful. The whole sorry
mess would end in a
fire fight,
one way
or the other, and the only
person who Jack could
call
on at short
notice to help him win that fight was lying unconscious in the passenger’s seat
of
his Range Rover. Jack tried his
best
to look confident and in control—he hoped that the team from the
embassy got to him in time; if Robert’s men got here first then it really
would be over. The race to survive was on, and for the first time in his