It wasn't until ten minutes past eight that another movement of the gate brought his mind instantly to the present. The gate rolled open. He sat up. A Lincoln Navigator showed its head. His lips drew off his teeth in a crooked smile. He stubbed the smoldering cigarette in an ashtray in the car and turned on the ignition of the Toyota. As the Lincoln turned right and edged into the flow of the traffic, he drove the Toyota, in his bid to follow the Lincoln. He made sure two cars separated him from the Lincoln.
The night traffic was tight and slow. With the pace used by cars along the broad street, the dark man felt even if the driver of the Lincoln spotted him, he'd think of him as part of the traffic.The car in front of him was a low Aston Martin sports car. Ahead of it was another low car, and he got an unobstructed view of the rear of the Lincoln. He admired the balance, the ease at which the big car edged its way through the tight downtown Miami traffic. But what good would it do him after tonight? He thought. Someone once said, “Life was useless.” Another, “Money Ain't Loyal.”After ten minutes of slow driving, the Lincoln turned off the main avenue into a side street.Seeing the Lincoln turn, the dark man also veered his car into the street. He was now sure the man in the Lincoln was headed for home. This was now an empty road, and he couldn’t afford to be spotted.He saw a gap in the traffic, as the Lincoln signaled left; and he stepped on the gas. He overtook the Lincoln, then slowed down. From his driver’s mirror, he saw the Lincoln turn into the underground garage of a nine-story condominium building.He continued down the street until he spotted a space in a line of tightly parked cars. He swung his car into a corner, U-turned, came back into the street, and slid the compact car into the small space.The car just barely fit. He turned off his headlights, then his engine, and the car blended into the scene, as just another parked car.He looked over at the condominium and was just in time to see the glass elevator stop on the top floor of the building. A few seconds after, the penthouse windows lit up.It came to his mind that he could afford to take no risks. The light in the penthouse apartment must be out before he could make his move. He took out his wallet, satisfied himself that his plane ticket to Russia was still in it, then he slid the wallet back into his pocket. The ticket was scheduled for the next six days; 8:00 Am flight.“I would have to make a clean job of this,” he told himself, “else I don't see Russia or Anya ever again.”He opened the car and stepped out into the street. He looked around. It was just like the side streets of downtown Miami; with cars roaring up and down the street. Women, dressed in just the barest essentials, walking along the sidewalks, while some people could be seen riding bicycles. Cafes, restaurants, and bars; in corners, were also in his line of view.Everyone seemed to mind their own business, and he reckoned no one paid him any attention.He sauntered down the street. His head down, his eyes up. He searched for cameras. He looked over the building opposite the condominium. It was a warehouse. He wasn’t concerned about anyone from there watching the condominium. Turning his attention to the condo, he found one camera on the wall, but he had a plan to deal with that already.He continued along the sidewalk, then his eyes spotted another camera fixed to the corner pillar of the residential building next to the condominium. They positioned it in a way that whoever sat behind the monitor screen in the control room had a view of not only the entrance to the residential building but also to the condo.He passed the building. Next to it was a restaurant, and he went inside. He took a seat at a corner close to the window, ordered cheeseburgers with fries, and as he ate, his mind thought about how best to tackle the camera in the residential building.He couldn't afford to go through the back. The rooms of the condo were positioned such that their windows and terraces faced the side and back.You never know, he mused, some peeps never sleep at night, they're always wide awake, watching through their windows, standing on their terraces, looking down at the street below, as if in expectation of something bad. Someone might see me enter the condominium and although it might take time, with the efficiency of the police, I am sure they would get to me. No, the back was ruled out.He finished his meal, wiped his mouth clean with the serviette, and then walked over to the counter. He settled his bill and left the restaurant.As he came out onto the street, he pulled up the sleeve of his overcoat, stuck his arm out to see the time by his wristwatch, in the light cast by the restaurant. It was getting on for a quarter to nine.He walked along the sidewalk, his head still brought low, his eyes still searching, his mind still thinking. He passed the residential building, passed the condo, and turned right into a dark narrow alley. Lined on the other side of the alley were Palm trees; their leaves darkened and yellow from the snowfall of winter.He hadn't walked ten yards when he saw what he sought. Set in the condo's wall was a steel door that gave access to the fuse boxes. A crooked smile appeared on his face. It lasted for some seconds and disappeared.He continued down the alley, turned round the backstreet, and returned to his car. He opened the door, got in, and as he settled himself more comfortably in the car, he looked up at the condo. A light still burned in the penthouse apartment.“Well then, I've still got more time to wait.”Few minutes past one o'clock, now lost in thought, exhausted from the long wait, and staring sightlessly at the condominium, he had a sudden vision of the lighted double windows of the penthouse apartment; becoming dark squares on the walls of the condo.He sat up, alert, and looked over at the condo. The top floor was now submerged in total, damning darkness. His crooked smile reappeared on his face.“The time has come.”He took from his pocket a pair of thin silk gloves, and when he wore them, they became like a second skin on his hands, then waited some thirty minutes before opening the glove compartment. He took out the paper bag, and taking the package from the bag, he screwed the silencer slowly to the gun. His mind calculated.Done screwing the silencer to the gun, he slid the gun into the pocket of his overcoat, opened the car door, and stepped out into the street. Gently, he swung the door shut, pushed it until he heard, ‘click.’He looked up and down the moonlit street. A few taxis still bowled rapidly along the road, a few dawdlers loitered in the street beyond. It was a fine chilly night, and downtown Miami was still reluctant to go to sleep.Moving quickly with stealth, he crossed the street, stepped into a dark shop doorway, and looked around. As he saw no one looking in his direction, he slunk along in the shadows, invisible in his black outfit. He reached th
The circuit blow brought Jamie Rico instantly awake. He hadn't seen the flash, as he had his back turned to the window and his curtains drawn. So, he thought it was a gunshot. He laid still on the bed, his ears straining. Then, as he relaxed, his quick suspicious ears picked out the faint noise of a door click. He stiffened.His hand drew out a drawer by his bedside and his fingers closed over the steel butt of a .38mm.He raised his head from the pillow and listened. The noise was repeated. It was a soft sound, like someone taking care not to be heard, was slowly turning the handle of a door.Silently, he took out the gun from the drawer, raised himself, and with his left hand, he groped for the light switch, found it, and turned it on. There was no response from the light bulbs as if the switch and bulbs had recently had a discord.Darkness still hovered around the room, but he wasn't scared. He had a gun. He pulled back the safety catch of the gun and gently d
Suddenly, Rico’s feet seemed to stagger. A heavy thud vibrated the floor where he laid as Rico's massive frame hit the floor. His head dropped to the floor a few inches from the closet door. The noise came as sharp and loud as it could be to the dark man, who had his ear to the ground. He got up, swung the door open, and crossed over the body into the room. He moved to the wet bar, drained the remaining whiskey in the bottle, and rinsed the tumbler.Then, sliding his gun into his pocket, he hoisted the massively built body over his shoulder. He moved with difficulty across the room and dropped the body on the bed. He arranged the body, lifted its head, and pulled the pillow under it. His eyes caught the wedding ring on Rico's finger, and he grunted.He moved to the wet bar, picked up Rico's gun. He checked how many slugs were in it.Three.He crossed to the bedside drawers. As he drew the top drawer open, he heard a soft creak and smiled his crooked smile.
As Pascal edged to where the Lincoln was parked with the dark man following behind, his mind worked swiftly. Any moment from now, he felt the man behind might slip up. He might come too close before they got to the Lincoln. Then that would be his chance, he thought.As they reached the Lincoln, the signaling lights of the Lincoln flashed. Pascal stopped abruptly, but the gun nudged him forward.“Get in the driver’s side.”With fallen shoulders, he got the car door open and got in. His gamble hadn’t come off. The thought that he might be dealing with a man as efficiently professional as himself brought cold sweat to his forehead.The dark man got in the back and settled himself directly behind Pascal.“Get us to the agency,” he said and relaxed back into the luxury of the car.Ten minutes of steady driving with the speedometer needle flickering over forty and fifty brought them to Rico Truck Agency.Pascal sounded
Seated in the first-class cabin of a Boeing 747 flight; from New York to Florida, Miami. Natasha Orlova stared blankly through the window at the blue sky and white clouds.Her mind was unsettled. She turned her attention again to the white envelope, which she held in her hand. The words, drawn by the black ink, “To Natasha Orlova.” stared unfeelingly back at her.She couldn't help but take out the paper, unfold it, and read through its content yet again.The first sentence struck a knife into her heart. As she read further, each word pushed the knife deeper, each sentence twisted the blade in her heart.“Your father might still be alive. Ever since your conception, I promised myself I wouldn't let him know of you. He was bad. I wanted the best for you. But you struck a knife in my heart, child, as you gre
The plane touched down at 10:55 a.m. at the Miami International Airport. Among the passengers to leave the plane, Natasha alighted. A Hermes handbag hung over her left shoulder, a diamond and emerald necklace on her neck, and a small-sized leather traveling bag was on her right hand.She walked briskly to the Arrival center, passed the police control with a wide, sensual smile to the officer in control, and walked out into Miami's cold winter morning.She hurried to a waiting taxi, and as she opened the rear door, a hand dropped on her shoulder.Startled, she swiveled around. Seeing her husband, she relaxed, then smiled.“Are you going to enter that, not when I've been here for the past half hour waiting for you?” Rico said. A false, stern expression on his face. …Gorevoy Egorov came slowly and lazily awake. He turned over on the small-sized bed that barely fitted his muscular frame and grimaced as his leg contacted the floor. He dr
Gorevoy's face darkened.“He would know all right.”Jerry brought the coffee over, handed one to Gorevoy, and with the second cup, he sat down. He stared at Gorevoy for some time, hesitating. He hadn't missed the tightness in Gorevoy's voice.“Gorevoy, sometimes I wonder if Jamie wasn't behind the whole set-up. It was too glib that only you got implicated, and who gained most from it? Jamie!”Gorevoy said nothing, but Jerry who was watching him saw the muscles of his face twitch. He took a sip from his cup. “Things aren't the same way they used to be before you went in, Gorevoy... a lot has changed.”The corners of Gorevoy's mouth twisted into a sour smile. Looking at the old man was enough confirmation that a lot indeed had changed.Ten years ago, he had met Jerry at a cocktail party hosted by a man up the food chain in the drug business. The two had got talking. Jerry had taken a liking to him. After the party
It was his luck that as the traffic lights stopped him at an intersection leading onto Rico's apartment; he saw the Lincoln shoot out from a corner with the stream of traffic traveling down the avenue.He recognized it as Rico's, and immediately; he stamped on his brakes, engaged gear, maneuvered the compact car into the moving line of traffic, turning into the avenue, and went after the Lincoln.He parked the car in one of the empty bays in the enormous courtyard of the Miami International Airport, a good hundred yards from the Lincoln. He saw Rico get out of the car but remained in his.It wasn't long before he saw Rico returning to the car, a traveling bag in his hand, a woman by his side; a woman which he guessed would be his wife.He regarded the woman with professional interest. A beauty, he thought, and with a body as sensationally built as hers, he was well damn sure that one look of invitation from those whorish eyes would send fresh blood running down t