Aston kept moving until he reached the bar, frustrated they had tracked him down so quickly. This was becoming a trend.
“Please, don’t bring trouble in here,” Kylie whispered. “Shall I call the police?”
“No time,” Aston said. Local law could take hours to get to this out of the way boondock and he knew these guys weren’t going to hang around. Typically, rural police did more follow-up than actual crime prevention.
How the hell had Chang tracked him all the way up here? He frowned. Holloway’s goons had found him too. His mind raced, thinking about where he might have used credit cards, been spotted on CCTV, spoken to the wrong person. It was safe to assume Holloway and Chang both had methods well beyond those of regular people. They were the kind of men who were used to getting what they wanted, with the wealth to make things happen.
“Tell Chang I’ll have his money in a couple of weeks.”
The tall man shook his head. “He was supposed to have it several weeks ago, Mister Aston. We have very strict instructions to return with either the money, or you.”
Aston ground his teeth. It looked like loony Holloway was going to get his way, because there was no chance Aston was going anywhere with these hoods. He found the business card with the cell phone number in his pocket. “Just let me pay for my drinks and I’ll be with you,” he said to the heavies.
He took his eyes off them for a moment and gave Kylie his most imploring gaze. “Ring this number. I need them here now.”
He slid a ten dollar note over the bar with the number tucked under it. Kylie, wide-eyed, took the money and nodded once. She turned to the till and reached for the phone beside it.
Aston took a deep breath. Okay then. Here we go.
The three men had moved farther into the small bar and stood arrayed in front of the door, blocking his exit. He could turn tail and run through the bistro and out the back, or out the kitchen door if he doglegged that way. Behind him stood a large veranda overlooking remnant rainforest, the glittering ocean, and the small dock where he’d moored his rented boat just visible to the south. He could bolt that way and take a flying leap, but it was a ten foot drop to the ground, and the fall could result in a twisted ankle or worse. Besides, he needed to buy Kylie time and give the cavalry a chance to arrive.
Plastering on a wide grin he walked toward the three goons. Basic multiple opponent rules applied: make space so they can’t all hit you at once. As he got close he reached out one hand as if to shake with the guy in the center. As that man frowned and looked quizzically at Aston’s outstretched palm, the marine biologist burst into action. He surged forward, slamming two fists into the center thug’s chest. The man cried out in surprise more than pain, and staggered backward, tripping over his own feet and sitting heavily on his arse.
His partners ground into action, but Aston was already moving. He spun to his left, grabbed a chair as he went, and swung it into the face of the goon on one side. That one brought both arms up to protect his head and the chair cracked into his bones. Unlike the movies, the chair didn’t break, and the thug was knocked backwards, howling in pain. Still with his makeshift weapon in one hand, Aston lofted out a kick at the third debt collector as the man rushed him. The kick caught him square between the legs. The poor bastard folded up like a scared sea anemone and fell gasping to the floorboards.
Aston couldn’t believe his luck. But already the first man was regaining his feet and there was no time to celebrate. He swept the chair up and over high and brought it down on the center goon’s head, crumpling him back to the floor. He had no chance to enjoy that victory either, as the guy he’d previously hit with the chair had already leapt up. As Aston turned to face him all he saw was a fist and stars exploded everywhere. His vision tunneled in and his legs turned to rubber. Sound drained away to a distant whine.
“Ah, fuck it,” Aston slurred as he stumbled and felt something else hit ribs. The pain was distant and strange.
Close, he thought. I nearly had ‘em! Three of ‘em!
A sharp clang! rang in his ears and the follow-up blows he’d expected didn’t come. His vision swam partially back and Kylie stood there, a blonde goddess with a metal tray bent in half held in one hand. “Go, you bloody idiot!” she said. “I called the police anyway, but I think your friends just pulled up outside.”
Aston grinned crookedly, feeling nauseated but elated. “I bloody love you!” he said. “Hey, see that my rental boat gets returned?”
“Sure.”
He climbed to his feet, wobbling dangerously. “Rain check on that date, yeah?”
She shook her head and blew him a kiss. As he staggered for the door she swung a kick into the jaw of the unfortunate tray victim to keep him down. The middle guy was out cold and the third was still curled up around his devastated scrotum. A couple of guys from the corner seemed to suddenly gain some courage now the goons were down and came to Kylie’s aid to watch over them.
Aston blew her a kiss back and fell out into the blistering sun. He could hear distant sirens. Typical they should come right away when any other time he’d be lucky if they arrived the same day. But a dust-covered silver Lexus slid to a stop right in front of the building. The man in the sharply-pressed shorts and polo shirt looked out with one eyebrow raised.
“I decided to accept Mister Holloway’s offer,” Aston grunted, struggling to ignore the screaming pain in his ribs and the pulse of pressure in his head. His jaw ached.
“We knew you would,” the man called Greg said. “We’ve been waiting for your call.”
Aston didn’t reply. He was too busy fighting off the urge to collapse.
The back door of the Lexus swung open. He clambered in, felt the cool rush of the air conditioner, slammed the door, and then gave in to the urge after all.
Chapter 4
Aston donned sunglasses before stepping from the jetway into Helsinki airport. The lights weren’t particularly bright, but more than twenty-four hours of travel and a few too many stiff drinks had rendered his eyes sensitive to light. Not to mention the throbbing echo of the goon’s heavy punches. Someone behind him began talking loudly into a cell phone and he added sound to the list of things he currently hated. What a freaking day. Under a different set of circumstances, he might have tried to get to know the curvy and flirtatious stewardess a little better, but he’d been feeling too sorry for himself and completely ignored her overtures. It was a shame. She’d made her interest clear. Two fine opportunities lost in one long day. Chang had a lot to answer for. Aston decided there and then that once this debt was paid, he would do everything to avoid any dealings with that bastard again. And he immediately wondered how likely he was to keep that promise to himself. He was nothing if not self-aware.
A limo driver holding a hand-written sign that read ‘Sam Afton’ waited for him in baggage claim. He didn’t care enough to correct the guy, and followed him out to the waiting vehicle. The blast of hot summer air and choking exhaust turned his stomach as he stumbled to the sleek black Mercedes, a standard four-door model. He ignored the driver’s heavily-accented prattle, and slid into the invitingly dim interior and the cool embrace of its air-conditioning, running full-blast.
He took in the leather seats and tinted windows. It was certainly roomier and far more luxurious even than his first-class airline seat. He wondered if this was the way all of Holloway’s guests traveled, or if the man was going out of his way to make an impression.