The first bodyguard unlocked the car with an electronic key fob while Seif waited with the second bodyguard a few yards away. Alongside the driver’s door, the first bodyguard peered through the windows before lowering himself into a push-up position to check underneath the SUV for explosive devices. The bodyguard had done it hundreds of times. It was boring, a pain in the ass. And a waste of time.
Suppressed gunshots echoed in the close confines of the parking garage.
The bodyguard collapsed onto his stomach, screaming.
There was a second of stillness before the other bodyguard went for his gun, struggling to pull it out from under his jacket. It was tight against his chest to better show off his muscles.
He yelled at Seif, ‘GET DOWN, GET DOWN.’
The bodyguard dropped to one knee, unsure where the shot had come from. His first instinct was to look behind them for the shooter.
Seif just stood there, open mouthed, unable to react, staring at his injured bodyguard. He was lying on the concrete, face down, right arm and leg thrashing around but his left limbs, those alongside the Merc, were bizarrely still. Seif realized the man had been shot in both his left arm and leg. He was too big, too heavy, and in too much pain to right himself. He tried to get his one good hand beneath his jacket, to his gun, but his arm was too bulky to squeeze beneath his chest. He was trying to speak, but he couldn’t get his words out among his cries. Glistening blood crept along the ground.
The second bodyguard kept a tight hold on his own gun. He looked around frantically, eyes searching their surroundings, checking the likely points from which someone could have taken a shot. Aside from cars the place was empty. He could see no sign of any attackers. Where the hell were they?
He gestured to Seif. ‘Get back to the elevator. I’ll-’
He cried out, bullets catching him in the knee, thigh, and ankle, rounds shattering bone and sending explosions of blood across the concrete. He fell backwards, all thoughts of the. 45 forgotten as he clutched at the bloody mess of his legs.
Seif hadn’t moved. He looked on with horror at the two guys writhing around on the ground. He heard a noise, saw a man in a suit slide out from underneath the Merc and come to his feet. He was wearing a black ski mask. He had a gun. With a silencer.
Seif still had the mobile phone clutched to his ear, the incessant sexual drone of his mistress not missing a beat. His gaze was locked on the masked gunman. He couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think. He’d hired bodyguards so they could protect him from a day like this, but he’d never seriously entertained the notion that anything this bad might actually happen.
The gunman walked past the face-down bodyguard, who had given up trying to get his weapon, and now lay still and quiet, tilting up his head as much as he could to watch what was happening. The other bodyguard stayed where he was, on his back, face screwed up with pain. Blood soaked his trousers. He was trying to hold his splintered knee together with his left hand while his right stretched across the ground for his pistol.
Victor walked slowly toward Seif, angling his gun for a second at the guy reaching for his. 45.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Victor said.
The bodyguard pulled his hand back, and Victor kicked the gun away as he passed. He stopped directly in front of Seif, holding the handgun at arm’s length, the end of the suppressor no more than an inch from the terrified accountant’s face.
Victor’s request was straightforward. ‘Computer.’
His eyes unblinking, Seif didn’t hesitate and raised his left arm up towards Victor. His right still held the cell phone to his ear. Victor took the computer from him.
‘Password?’
‘Isabella.’
Seif was sweating. Somehow he managed to speak. ‘Is that all you want?’
On the other end of the phone his mistress thought he was speaking to her. She groaned louder. His eyes never leaving Seif’s for an instant, Victor took the laptop from him with his free hand. He saw no harm in replying.
‘What do you think?’
Seif gasped, trembled, misunderstanding. The phone fell from his fingers. ‘Don’t hurt my family.’
Victor didn’t hesitate. ‘I wouldn’t.’
He gave Seif a moment to process the remark, stepped back, lowered the gun, and turned around, watching Seif’s and the bodyguard’s reflections at all times on the Merc’s bodywork. No one tried anything. Groans emanated from Seif’s cell. Victor took another step, stopped, turned back, and shot the phone. It exploded into a thousand pieces.
He considered shutting up Seif’s mistress for the price of a bullet to be money well spent.
CHAPTER 56
Amsterdam, The Netherlands
Wednesday
21:37 CET
The hotel was popular with British tourists and run by a mostly British staff. There was a stag party occupying several rooms on the same floor, whose members weren’t inclined to respect the peace and quiet of other guests. This suited Victor perfectly. The more attention focused elsewhere, the less directed at the broker and him.
The city had been Victor’s first choice when leaving the UK. Numerous flights and ferries transported countless Brits across the North Sea every day of the year. It was easy to slip out of the country among the crowd. Before going to the airport they had emptied Seif’s laptop case. It contained his computer and its peripherals, several newspapers, and a film entitled Naughty Schoolgirls Must Be Punished.
‘I’ve seen that one,’ the broker said. ‘It’s crap.’
Victor did his best to keep his lips straight.
‘I knew it,’ the broker said.
‘Knew what?’
‘That you could smile.’
‘Don’t get used to it.’
‘I won’t.’
Her eyes were mischievous. He liked that.
They’d both slept during the day, and now he stood guard while the broker worked on Seif’s computer. There were thousands of files on the hard drive, the complete financial records of dozens of companies, a huge amount of information. It was an electronic maze.
‘We’re looking for money,’ the broker had explained. ‘The transfer of money. The money to pay us came to Seif from one of these companies.’ She pointed at the huge list on screen. ‘One of those will have records that coincide with your previous contracts. You were always paid the same way, half before, half afterward.’
‘Correct.’
‘So we’re looking for pairs of payments.’
‘It’ll take hours going through all those files.’
‘Yes, it will,’ she agreed. ‘Do you want to do it for me?’
Victor shook his head. ‘I’ll leave it in your capable hands.’
‘Thanks.’
He stood to one side of the window, peering into the night through the slim gap between curtain and wall. He could see the small parking lot, its entrance, and he watched those cars that arrived and the people who climbed out. They were couples mostly, no one he deemed a danger. He didn’t have a weapon, and it played on his mind. If anyone came for them he had only his hands to defend himself.
Outside, Amsterdam was alive. The narrow streets were full of people, drinking and smoking and having a good time. There were cafes licensed to sell marijuana nearby, and with the window open Victor could smell the
