Free The Collectors - Book Four: Diamonds and Sand (The Collectors Series 4) by Ron Sewell

exhibition floor and into the pouring rain. He tried to make sense of it but then decided to go home.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
    Nine o’clock came and went as Petros’ old BMW cruised at a steady seventy miles per hour along the M4 motorway towards Swindon. “I’m taking you back to your past, Bear.”
                  “If truth be told, they shifted the base from Hereford to Credenhill five miles further north. Do me a favour, PK, let me sleep or stop somewhere for breakfast?”
                  Petros checked the time. I’ll stop for you to stuff your face. Twenty minutes, no more.”
                  Bear glanced at the blue motorway sign. “There’s an eatery five miles ahead.”
                  They stopped at a Granada service station, grabbed coffee and sandwiches and returned to the car. Fed and watered, rubbish binned, they left. Five minutes later Bear’s snores filled the interior of the car. Petros laughed.
    He saw the exit sign for Hereford and a mile further on drove off the motorway. An hour elapsed before he turned onto a slip road next to the army establishment’s main gate.
    “ Wake up, Bear.” Bear rubbed his eyes and stretched as best he could. “Come on, shift your arse.”
                  “I’ll shift yours in a minute with a size ten.”
                  Both men alighted from the car and strolled to the entrance guardhouse. A military police sergeant, with a knife-edge crease in his trousers and boots that reflected the sun, stopped them. “Can’t leave your car there, Sir.”
    Petros smiled, the professional soldier in him awakened. “I have an appoint ment with Major Majer at midday, Sergeant.”
                  He turned and barked, “Corporal, visitor file.” An armed man handed the clipboard across, his eyes forever on the move. “Names?”
                  “Petros Kyriades and William Morris.”
                  “I have a Mr Kyriades but no Mr Morris. Wait and don’t move.”
                  A tall, red-haired man in uniform approached. “Sergeant, are these my guests?”
                  The sergeant saluted. “One, Sir, the other’s not on my list.”
                  “Give me the file.” Major Mager wrote plus guest. “He is now and the man you are refusing admittance is one of us. Sergeant Major William, Bear, Morris, known to the regiment as Night-Fighter. This man could hide in the middle of a field in broad daylight and you’d never see him. At night it’s impossible to fight a man you can’t see. Correct, Mr Morris?” He held out his hand.
                  Bear recognised the handshake.“ A long time ago, Sir.”
                  “My apologies, Sir,” said the sergeant. “I had no idea.”
                  Bear shrugged. “Why would you? When I was a part of this you were shitting your nappy.”
    The sergeant grinned. “You’re correct , Sir.” He turned to Petros. “Rules, Sir. I need to check your car before I can allow you in. Please open the bonnet and boot.”
    Bear chuckled and with Petros returned to the car. A corporal with a dog , and a mirror for checking under the body, approached. The dog jumped inside and sniffed before he repeated the process in the boot. The corporal inspected the underside and the engine compartment. “All clear, Sergeant.”
    “Sign the book, gentlemen. ” He handed them their visitor passes. “Please wear them until you leave.”
    “Thank you , Sergeant,” said Major Majer. “Mr Kyriades, if you would give me a lift we can kill two birds with one stone.”
    “You’ll have to sit in the back , behind me. Bear needs all the room he can get.”
    “No problem, I’ve