Chapter Four

Rape or Kill? Or kill, then rape? A few hours later the man with the big blue eyes looked down at the check-in girl and wondered which he'd prefer, if he had the time.

She wore a close fitting Islam-friendly uniform. He could still see her voluminous breasts beneath. Nothing she could do about that.

'Did you pack your bags yourself sir?' she said.

'Of course I did sweetheart,' a Louisiana accent, the eastern European thing got old so quickly.

'Could anyone have tampered with your luggage?'

'No way.'

'Has anyone given you anything to take on-board.'

'Not today,' he said. 'Tell me, you're not local are you?' Of course she was. 'I can't place your accent.'

Her big lashes fluttered down. She said something about regular travel but he wasn't really listening. His mind already on the next job. Another stand-by clean up operation. But public, oh-so public. No holding back this time. And there would be more. By Wednesday it should all be over and he could spend his money.

Right then, he was just glad to leave the dirt, the dust and the bumbling Viktor persona behind.

He should have taken care of that journalist himself. But that wasn't his call.

Shame. He could have had some fun with Jessica Price before he'd found out what she knew. She'd been a looker.

He'd taken everything he needed from her bag in Henry's safe. He needn't have bothered motivating the troops to go back to the body for it. And Savage had run to this very airport yesterday.

But Savage delivered. His client had been right all along.

'And what is your destination Mr Kevorkian?'

'London.'

'Oh, I adore London.

'Oh, me too. Do you visit much?'

'Actually I'm working this flight. I have a layover until Tuesday.'

Her eyes sparkled.

'Call me Konrad, please.'

'Business or pleasure sir?'

'Pleasure. Always pleasure.'

'Really?' she slid his passport and boarding card across the desk. 'I have no plans.' Her name and number on the top.

'Tayla,' he said. 'Looks like London really will be a pleasure. I'll see you soon.'

She looked him up and down.

'I hope so sir.'

He smiled at her as he walked away. They said you could tell a fake smile because it didn't reach the eyes. So he faked the eyes too.

His phone vibrated. The must-answer buzz.

He pulled it out, pressed open on the encrypted message and auto-logged into the system. A new name popped up and a new guess for him, another in the queue behind it. Both London based, of course.

He turned to see if Tayla was watching him leave. He gave her the smile again. She simpered.

London here I come, he thought.