Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [75]
He knew it had to be done, though. He had complete faith in his boss, and if Harald Glas said that the innocent-looking redhead was a threat to the entire world, he believed him.
She was famous, wasn’t she? Some kind of scientist. Pretty, too, for an egghead . . .
He forced himself not to think about her. All he had to do was get her into the back of the blacked-out limo, then draw the gun and fire. Three shots to the head would do it. She wouldn’t even have time to be scared.
They descended through a stairwell. He had parked in a quiet corner with limited CCTV coverage – the limo was sound-proofed and his gun silenced, but anything unusual could still attract attention. A couple of people passed them on the stairs, but neither gave a second glance to a driver and his passenger.
His heart began to race as they reached the lower level. The limo was a long dark shape in the concrete gloom about fifty metres away. He headed for it, the gun hard against his ribs.
‘Jeez, could you have parked any farther off?’ said Nina, trying to hold in another yawn. She had expected her ride to be waiting near the terminal’s entrance with the buses and cabs.
The chauffeur mumbled a vague apology, then opened the rear door for her. She climbed inside. ‘Thank you.’ He didn’t acknowledge her, instead closing the door and putting her bags in the trunk. Nina checked her watch. If the traffic were favourable, she might reach the UN in around forty minutes. No telling how long Penrose’s meetings would drag on, though . . .
The trunk lid slammed. The chauffeur walked back to the driver’s side door. He opened it, but didn’t immediately get in, instead reaching inside his jacket with a gloved hand.
Turning away to make sure his target couldn’t see what he was doing, the assassin drew his gun. He started to enter the limo—
Someone hit him hard from behind, smashing his face against the edge of the roof.
Nina jumped as a loud metallic bang echoed through the limo. The driver was struggling with somebody—
She glimpsed a gun as the two men fought.
Jesus! It was a carjacking!
She tried to open the door – and found to her horror that the handle refused to move. Child-locked. The other door was the same. She stabbed at the window switch to lower it, but without the key in the ignition the mechanism was inert.
The driver slammed against the limo’s side, his attacker delivering a punch to his stomach before grabbing his arm. The gun clacked against the rear window. A thwat as it fired, the bullet hitting the concrete floor and ricocheting away with a whine. Another shot, and a car’s windshield shattered, setting off the vehicle’s alarm.
The chauffeur struck back, and the other man lurched away. The gun came up – but not pointing at the assailant.
It was aimed at Nina.
Trapped, all she could do was dive into the footwell—
The gun fired – just as the second man hurled himself bodily at the chauffeur. The window shattered from the force of the bullet at point-blank range, the round tearing into the leather upholstery beside Nina. She shrieked.
The new arrival twisted the chauffeur’s right arm savagely behind his back. The driver let out a strangled cry of pain, free hand clawing over his shoulder at his opponent’s eyes. The wig slipped off his head as he tried to break loose, knees bashing against the limo’s door—
Another muffled thwat, a spent casing clinking off the floor. The chauffeur convulsed, face twisted into an anguished grimace by the pain of the bullet that had just ripped into the back of his calf. Before he could even scream, the other man slammed him face-first against the top of the door frame. He dropped to the concrete, unconscious.
The victor stepped over him and tugged at the door handle. The lock released with a clunk. Nina stared up at her saviour.
‘So this is what you get up to while I’m away, is it?’ said a Yorkshire voice.
She gawped at the dishevelled, bearded figure. ‘Eddie?’
Her husband smiled. ‘Last time I checked. Come on,