Free The Killer II by Jack Elgos Page B

and he thought about the lad again as the plane lifted off, taking him out of Dodge.

1 1
    The Debrief
     
    Liam had tried to sleep during the flight, but it just wasn’t happening. He blamed it on an uncomfortable seat, but knew it was more likely the adrenalin. He had not encountered any problems leaving New York and the newspaper article made him confident that no one was looking for him, but he wouldn’t feel truly safe until he was away from airports altogether.
    His arrival passed without incident. There wasn’t even a full passport check and he was soon walking to the V.I.P. parking where he had left his car. He approached the Jaguar slowly, eyeing it with caution. He walked round, checking the exterior for any signs of tampering - fingerprints, scratches or dirty marks on the bodywork. He saw nothing to alarm him. He glanced through the window and saw what he’d hoped to see. ‘Beezer, still there,’ he smiled at the two small pieces of cigarette ash sitting, just as he’d left them, on each of the front seats. ‘Looking good so far.’
    He opened the car, stretched one arm in, pulled the bonnet release and quickly retreated a few paces. Silence. A check of the engine bay showed everything as it should be. Leaving the driver’s door wide open he leaned in again and turned the ignition key. The powerful Jaguar sprang instantly to life with a healthy growl from its exhaust and sat gently ticking over. He took a breath. It was the final stages of the check that always made him the most nervous. He poked his leg in and briefly touched the brake pedal. Nothing. Next he put the car into drive – still nothing, and reverse didn’t produce anything untoward either. No hint of any suspicious sound, smell or feeling. For his last check he turned on the radio and Marc Almond was bemoaning his Tainted Love .
    Liam exhaled a long, relieved breath and finally got into the vehicle. He had seen the effects of car bombs many times back in Belfast. The memories of the remains of people, who’d simply jumped into a car and driven off, were imprinted in his mind forever. They made his blood run cold. He hated bombs. ‘Coward’s tool,’ he shuddered.
    He was soon heading for the M1, his eyes scanning the rear view mirror as much as the road ahead, and he saw nothing of concern. On the motorway he headed north and put his foot down. The Jaguar responded instantly. Turner had been right about this car, it was really nice to drive. In no time at all the speedometer registered one hundred and twenty miles per hour and everything in his mirror grew smaller. Once he was sure that nothing was following him he reduced his speed to a steady seventy.
    ‘No need to go looking for problems,’ he thought. ‘Still, I’ll take a speeding ticket over a bleedin ’ bullet in the head any day of the week.’
    Liam eventually left the busy motorway at junction twenty-eight where he took the Alfreton Road. ‘A long, round-about way maybe, but it’s easy to spot a tail here,’ he said to himself as he headed in the, not too general, direction of the old manor house that was his new home. He stopped sharply several times and noted everything that passed him. Twice he changed direction. Performing unexpected U-turns had produced much horn blowing, shouting and cursing but, happily, no gunshots.
    He’d learned one of the most valuable lessons of his life one day, not too long ago, in Spain. Never ever drive tired. Well, that was the first rule broken then. Always be aware of absolutely everything on the road, both in front and behind. His failure to do that had almost cost him his life, and he’d vowed he would never make that mistake again. Tired he may be, but he was absolutely sure that no one was following and no one was waiting in ambush.
    Around an hour later he pulled the Jaguar up his long driveway and stopped about halfway, putting the car in reverse just in case. Nothing moved. Back into drive he edged slowly forward to the front