Jenny gave a gasp of shock and delight, Carter lifted a hand to signal that she needed to continue paying attention.
“There are some stores at the service area. Buy some respectable clothes. Get jeans, a sweater, and a coat. Then dump that dress and get something to eat. I want you to look out for a coach party. There will be plenty about — it’s a regular stop. Find one that’s heading north and buy a ticket from the driver, or just give him some money. Either way, get on a coach, and stay on until Leeds. From there you can get a train home. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, just like hitchhiking,” she nodded, “but what happens if I get stopped by the police?”
“If that happens, you would have nothing to worry about. You’re the victim here. Just tell them the truth. Tell them that you were abducted to be sold as a sex slave. Then two men you don’t know saved you and sent you on your way.”
He patted her lightly on the shoulder.
“Of course the police will probably take away your money,” he said pointedly, allowing a moment’s silence for the message to sink in.
“Don’t worry, Jenny. Everything will be alright — just do exactly as I’ve asked. Tomorrow you’ll be at home watching television, and next week you can go back to college and complete your education.”
Jenny thanked both men and gave them a shy hug. After a few false starts she figured out the controls of the car, made an untidy three-point turn and set off for home. As they watched the Mercedes pull out of the parking lot, Carter spoke cautiously.
“Do you think my plan will work?”
“Not a hope in hell,” Stone replied seriously, “she’s never going back to college.”
Carter laughed aloud and patted Stone on the shoulder.
“Go collect the weapons, I’ll get the car.”
Carter drove them back to the service area to collect Stone’s car. For the time being, they decided to leave all of the weapons safely locked in the trunk of Ed’s car. Before setting off for their respective homes, they arranged to meet at Megan’s office in two days.
“That should give Megan enough time to check the guns, cell phones and credit cards to see if there are any leads we can follow,” Carter said. He put a comforting hand on Stone’s shoulder. “Why don’t you see if your girlfriend wants to come? I would like to meet her.”
“Already?” Stone asked in surprise.
“It’ll be fine, Eric. Megan’s pretty quick. If she’d found anything untoward about Linda, I would have had a call by now.”
“Ok, I’ll see you… ” Stone looked at his watch and grimaced, it was well after midnight, “I’ll see you at Megan’s tomorrow.”
After Carter had left, Stone sat in the quiet stillness of his car for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. Although he had just taken two lives, he felt strangely calm. His martial arts background was one of peace and harmony. Once he had believed that every life was precious, but previous experience had shown him that there were exceptions.
Finding young Jenny in the trunk of the Mercedes had proven that Stephens and Markov had been righteous kills. He was also confident with Carter’s assertion that there was little chance of a rigorous police investigation, and even less chance of it leading directly back to Stone. With that thought, he decided to file the memory of that night along with his recollections of stubbed toes and vacation food poisoning. In short, it would be something that he would never think of again.
Although it was late, he decided to risk sending Linda a text message.
“Loooong day! Just heading home. Would you like to meet tomorrow? I could come to you. Eric.”
To his surprise and delight, she answered almost immediately.
“Hi, you. I’m still up, couldn’t sleep. Could be at your house in an hour. Can I come over now? Linda x x.”
Stone smiled at the prospect and responded enthusiastically.
“Yes, please. Can’t think of anything better right now!”
She answered straightaway.
“On my way X X X.”
Stone replied that he couldn’t wait to see her and added some kisses of his own. He set off for home with a huge goofy smile plastered across his face.
The team were waiting for their target. They had been in position for a little over three hours. For this assignment, there was a team of just three people. There were two spotters, and one shooter. For the time being, three people would be sufficient. If the assignment dragged on for more than another day, then perhaps the numbers would have to increase; but for now, three would do.
The target lived in a middle house of a row of Victorian houses. It was one of eighty almost identical houses, on a one-way street with just one entrance and exit. The target’s street formed an upside down ‘U’ on the north side of a busy road, lined with mostly commercial buildings. The target’s house was easy to spot. It had a newly painted blue front door, and was almost dead center in a row of houses at the top of the ‘U’, facing north.
The two spotters were sitting in separate cars near each end of the road. They had their cell phones ready to warn the shooter of the target’s approach.
At one time in England, mortgages were so plentiful and easy to access, that many people seemed to move house as frequently as they changed their cars. Since the banking crisis, the tendency has been for houses to be extended and renovated, adding space, and value. The property directly opposite the target’s house had been extended recently, with the addition of a large room to the west side of the building. The extension was probably used as a sitting room, but if it wasn’t for the large front window, it could easily have been mistaken for a garage. Irrespective of what it was originally designed for, today it made a perfect snipers nest.
An hour previously, the shooter had crept across the back yard, carefully stepping around several toys and discarded bicycles. As planned, he had hidden in the bushes until one of the spotters knocked at the door and engaged the owner in a conversation about a lost cat. As soon as the shooter heard their voices, he silently shinned up the drainpipe, and slid onto the extension’s flat roof. Now the shooter was wrapped in a waterproof sleeping bag for warmth, and covered in a black waterproof shroud, making his profile almost invisible to even the most searching eyes.
From his prone position on the flat roof, the shooter was less than fifty yards from the target’s blue front door. Although the shooter was hidden in complete shadow, the street and front door of the target’s house were brightly illuminated by streetlights. From his prone position, with a downwards angle of about thirty degrees, the shooter had an unobstructed view.
He closed his left eye and looked through the viewfinder, centering the crosshairs on the doorbell while he adjusted the focus until the image was sharp and clear. The readout from the built-in laser rangefinder told him that the distance to the door was fifty-two yards. A second number reported that the temperature was a steady six degrees centigrade. These were perfect shooting conditions. Still air and good lighting — an easy shot, he couldn’t miss.
Ten minutes later a red sports car drove slowly past the target’s house, parking in a vacant space two houses down. The shooter swiveled his sights to focus on the occupant. It was a young and very attractive blonde woman. He watched her with mild sexual interest for a moment, but soon switched his attention back to the target house. He waited patiently.
He was good at waiting. Ten years as an Army sniper had taught him how to wait — quiet and still. Perhaps six hundred times he had waited like this; lying still for hours, or even for days. Sometimes he had waited in the pouring rain. He hated the rain. Regardless of what you were wearing, eventually it got through. Then the water would suck away your body heat, chilling the muscles until you began to shiver uncontrollably. Sometimes he had waited in the snow. He didn’t mind the snow. With decent clothing, you can stay hidden and warm in the snow for hours. A good snow hole, lined with dead leaves and straw, will retain heat like a sleeping bag and provide excellent cover. For most of his career, he had waited in the unrelenting heat of the desert. He liked the desert. As long as you stayed hydrated, avoided sunstroke, and ignored the flies, waiting in the desert was ok.