Assassin 3 - The Wrong Man (Assassin Series) Page 17

  “You may not know me, Jake, me boy,” he continued. “But I sure as hell know you. Remember Colombia?”

  Jake was thinking hard as he looked around for a weapon. He found a round metal rod about three feet long and a jagged shard of glass from one of the broken windows. His mind was now on Quinn, still advancing menacingly up the stairs.

  Colombia? Suddenly, everything started to fall into place as he called back to Quinn. “You mean it was you and your buddies we took out that day along the coast? That’ll teach you to become mercenaries!”

  Quinn countered with a remark that totally shocked Jake. “Yeah, dat was me two brudders you killed, you Yankee bastard, but I guess I got even before you left.”

  Jake was trying to move away from the direction of Quinn’s voice. “You did?” he inquired.

  “Yeah,” Quinn gloated. “I took a shot at you but you moved and I hit de guy next to you.”

  Jake was instantly incensed. So it was this Northern Irish bastard who had killed his friend Dave, now he was really going to pay. He kept moving, the glass shard in one hand and the metal pipe in the other, not realizing he was getting closer to Colleen.

  “And who should I say had the balls to try and take out the Queen?” Jake asked.

  Quinn was enjoying the cat and mouse chase. “Sean Quinn at your service. So show yourself so I can make dis quick and painless, you murderin’ bastard!” Quinn kept the conversation going as he got closer to Jake’s floor. “Oh, by de way, how did you like de finesse wid de old lady. I tought de cocaine overdose was poetic justice for Colombia, if you knows what I mean.”

  Jake was about to answer when a shadow crossed his path. Colleen was creeping along the wall in front of the window on his floor, waiting to take a shot if Quinn missed making the kill. This was her big mistake, Jake swung round suddenly and using the impetus of his swing, he slung the shard of glass at Colleen like a deadly Frisbee.

  He took her completely by surprise and it hit her in the throat as she staggered back in shock, blood gurgling from her carotid artery. She continued to stagger backwards, clutching at her throat as she fell back through an internal partition, causing her to go crashing through the rotting floor as her gun fired aimlessly in the air before she fell onto Quinn’s floor with a gurgling scream, dead by the time she landed.

  Quinn, who was half-way up the stairs, looked across as Colleen fell through the partition, a dying scream on her lips. He was furious. “Shit!” he hissed.

  He looked up, decided that he had heard enough and he fired a burst onto the floor above driving Jake even further back until he finally rushed onto the floor and confronted the unarmed Jake, his gun pointing unwaveringly at Jake’s heart.

  Jake stood there, starting to back away as Quinn moved forwards, the steel pipe looking somewhat redundant in Jake’s hand. Quinn motioned him to drop it and he did.

  Jake started to back away goading Quinn as he did so, his experience telling him that an irritated opponent never thinks as rationally as one in total control.

  “So, now your buddies are all dead, it looks like your little mission was a total fuck up, Sean!” he goaded.

  Quinn was getting angry and Jake could sense it as he continued. “I’m sure your bosses in the RIRA are gonna be totally pissed that you lost your whole squad just minutes ago, so I guess you’re finished, old buddy!”

  Quinn was now really agitated as Jake was still backing away, past a series of wide pillars holding the roof up.

  “Well, let me see,” Quinn began. “De last time I looked, I was de one wid de weapon, not you arsehole, so I guess it’s time!”

  Jake was fearless as he continued backing away with Quinn following him, a demented look in his eyes. Jake continued. “Yes, the more I think about it, I’ve decided to take you in. National disgrace in front of your RIRA buddies and a life in one of Her Majesty’s prisons, full of righteous, pissed off Brits, never to sleep with both eyes closed the rest of your pitiful life, totally fitting for a sick whacko like you!”

  Quinn was trying to control his anger, now anxious to finish the job. “Dream on, boyo,” he began. “ I tought humiliation and de biggest manhunt in history would be enough revenge, dat I could enjoy slowly, but now I guess I’m gonna have to kill you anyway!”

  Jake was still continuing past the last pillar in the row with Quinn following him as the terrorist continued. “So, where do you want it, de head, de heart, de knees or here’s a tought, how about all of dem!” he held up the gun and prepared to pull the trigger. “Meet your maker, you bastard! Dis is for Rory and Liam!”

  As he moved a step closer, suddenly, from behind the pillar, Sarah emerged with a piece of 2 x 4 in her hand and smashed Quinn across the shoulders, causing him to drop the gun which fired off into nowhere and crashed through a hole in the floor out of sight.

  Quinn staggered, turned on Sarah and punched her to the ground. Jake was on him like a cat. They both exchanged blows in a brutal flight and they were both bleeding freely. Jake finally delivered a flurry of blows to the face of Quinn as the latter fell down to the ground. Jake quickly helped a dazed Sarah to her feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. She nursed her jaw, feeling groggy. “I think so,” she answered and her eyes suddenly widened in shock. “Look out!” she screamed.

  Jake turned as Quinn was back on his feet with the 2 x 4 in his hand that Sarah had hit him with. He gave Jake a good whack on the arm and as Jake was recovering, Quinn decided to make a run for it.

  He dived down the stairs with Jake struggling on in pursuit, still groggy. The staircase gave way and Quinn crashed through to the floor below in a cloud of shattered wood, plaster and dust. He dusted himself off and rushed towards the next flight of stairs to the bottom floor with Jake still in pursuit.

  Jake turned and screamed to Sarah. “Stay here, Sarah, I’ll be back!”

  She nodded, still a bit groggy. “Get the bastard, okay?”

  Jake carefully made his way down to the ground floor and just before breaking cover, he looked out to see Quinn staggering back towards the pub.

  He quickly ran through the back door, jumped on the motor cycle and sidecar, started it up and roared around the corner of the building in search of Quinn, his speed lifting the sidecar wheel off the ground!

  He roared across the open land and when he neared the pub parking lot, he was almost knocked off the motor cycle as Quinn came roaring out past him in his car and away down the road.

  Jake stopped and did a quick U-turn before racing off in pursuit. They were both roaring through the old neighborhood at a reckless speed.

  Quinn checked his rear view mirror, concerned that Jake was still on his tail. “Dis bastard just don’t give up!” he screamed, his face still bleeding badly with dust mixed in with the blood. He moved up another gear to try and get away from the persistent American.

  On a straight run, Jake accelerated and the Honda responded to where he was level with Quinn, but the Northern Irishman suddenly swerved into him, causing Jake to have to run up on the sidewalk and a young couple had to jump off to one side before he swerved back onto the road at the end of the block.

  Up ahead, Quinn suddenly swerved left into the dock area with Jake swerving doggedly in pursuit, the wheels of the sidecar coming off the ground once again. The Honda was holding up well.

  At the next tight corner, Quinn screamed round the bend and looked up in shock to see a line of aluminum trash cans left out for the garbage collectors and as he hit them and tried to recover the steering, he saw that he was heading straight for a container that was parked on the side of the dock.

  “Oh, shit!” he screamed. He was struggling with the wheel and as he hit the container at an angle, his car flipped over and skidded along upside down, sparks flying until it came to a stop.

  Jake arrived at the side of the container and stopped to look at the devastation ahead. He jumped off the bike and rushed to the car to drag the unconscious Quinn out in case the car caught fire. He al
so saw Quinn’s tote that he grabbed out of the back of the car before he dragged Quinn back to the motor cycle. He slung the tote over his shoulder and dumped Quinn unceremoniously in the side car, kicked up the engine and returned the way he had come. The entire event had still gone unnoticed as Jake left the scene of the accident, until the car finally exploded in a blinding flash!

  * * *

  Sometime later, after the crashed, burning vehicle had been spotted and the police had been called, a patrol car arrived on the scene and the two officers climbed out to survey the damage. The first Officer scratched his head. “What de hell happened here?” he asked in shock. “An’ where’s de casualties?”

  His colleague assessed the damage. “Beats me, but it must’ve been one hell of a donnybrook!”

  They were both still standing there scratching their heads when the wrecking truck finally arrived.

  CHAPTER 41

  Sarah was sitting on the back step of the derelict building, a forlorn look on her face when Jake finally returned on the motor cycle with Quinn, still unconscious in the sidecar, covered in blood. She had been very nervous that someone would see all the bodies before Jake got back.

  She jumped up and rushed over to him a look of love in his eyes. “My God, Jake! I thought you were dead!”

  He smiled, also covered in blood. “Thought crossed my mind a couple of times! Nice work with the 2 x 4!”

  “Think nothing of it,” she replied. “So, what do we do with Prince Charming here?”

  Quinn was starting to come round, groaning in pain until Jake knocked him unconscious again. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and stuffed it in Quinn’s mouth and removed his belt, tightening it round his head to keep the handkerchief in place. “That’ll keep him quiet.” Jake added.

  He took the tote off his shoulder and opened it up. His eyes opened wide when he saw the cash from the bank heist and he then marvelled at the next item that he pulled from the bag - the mask of Jake that Quinn had used! He looked at it in shock and Sarah eyes widened when she saw it.

  “My God! It’s incredible!” she gasped. “No wonder they came looking for you!”

  He nodded in agreement. “And check this out!” Inside the pouch that had held the mask was even a copy of the invoice from Faces to Go.com, made out in Quinn’s name with his address on the top.

  She looked at Quinn, still unconscious. “What a monster!” she looked around nervously. “So, how do we get him out of here, everybody probably knows him?”

  Jake thought a moment. ‘Not just him but the other stiffs in the building.”

  Sarah had it all figured out. “We’ll put him in the side car and cover him with your jacket and put the crash helmet on him to hide his face until we get to neutral ground?”

  Jake was in agreement. “Right, now it’s safe to use the cell. Call 999 and tell them there’s been a shoot-out between rival groups of the RIRA and that the bodies are in this building across from the Soggy Shamrock. That should take the pressure off us until we can hide up and I can call Gramps later.”

  They drove away, with Quinn looking like a sad passenger with his head down in the sidecar. Sarah made the call and before they were out of the dock area, police cars were already passing them in the opposite direction to check on the dead terrorists.

  CHAPTER 42

  The day had not been a good day for Benny Sutterman. His editor Jim Cowan had finally run out of patience on Benny’s current assignment and told him that this was his last day on the project, after that he was back in the office, doing heaven knows what, maybe even obituaries or the gardening section.

  He couldn’t understand what he had been doing wrong, but his make-believe columns full of hint and speculation had now fizzled out after readers had been writing in criticising his efforts. What the hell did they know about journalism?

  He hated the old man Donovan who had been a stumbling block to getting a story right from the beginning and he had grown sick of parking outside the small detached house all day and then going back to the office to write more fantasy about what could or could not be happening with the would-be assassin Harrigan and his witch of a partner.

  Driving in from his cheap hotel for one last day, Sutterman was trying to analyse what he could have been missing, because he was still convinced that somehow the old man had been in touch with his grandson. It was then that the thought occurred to him that maybe it was the time of day that he had got wrong.

  He recapped that he had only been there during the day and he had assumed that nothing would happen in the evening when he was writing his column. He then decided that this day would be different and that he would stay all night if he had to and to hell with his fantasy column if nothing happened.

  From his vantage point down the street, Sutterman checked his watch and it was just before 8.00pm. When he looked ahead, he saw the old man with his German Shepherd dog on the leash as they left the house and walked up the road for what looked like a regular evening walk. Sutterman was about to drive slowly behind the old man to see where he was going, when he noticed two men get out of a car parked ahead of him and start to follow Donovan.

  “Hmm, what have we here?” he whispered to himself. He also got out of his car and followed them, discreetly at a distance. The men ahead were clearly following the old man and from the cut of their clothes, Sutterman had them correctly tagged as MI5 officers.

  Up ahead, Jake Sr. had spotted the tail as soon as the two men got out of their car, but he hadn’t noticed Sutterman dragging behind at the rear.

  Sutterman continued to follow the group ahead as they eventually reached the Dog and Duck Pub and Jake Sr. went inside. The two MI5 officers waited outside for a while, lighting a cigarette as if they were having a smoke before going inside. Sutterman backed out of sight into some bushes so he could watch them.

  The First Officer turned to his colleague. “If this guy’s grandson is now in Northern Ireland, what the hell are we hoping to find out tonight?”

  The Second Officer nodded. “I agree. Let’s go inside, check him out, have a drink and if nothing happens as usual, we can leave?”

  The First Officer nodded and they both stubbed out their cigarettes and walked inside the pub. Sutterman watched and moved over to the door of the pub and entered casually. He was now wishing he hadn’t drunk the fifth of Scotch while he was waiting in the car and he was desperately trying to clear his brain.

  Inside the pub, the two officers had both ordered a pint and were standing at the bar chatting to the bartender. Across the bar, Sutterman could see Jake Sr. in the tap room with the dog at his feet, chatting to some old cronies and exchanging a joke. They looked like they were setting up for a game of dominoes. He ordered a drink and parked himself out of sight of Jake Sr. but where he could see his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Three more drinks and an hour later, the two officers gave up as usual and left, but Sutterman stayed where he was, still trying to think clearly and about ten minutes later the phone rang behind the bar, jerking Sutterman back to reality.

  He became totally alert when he saw the bartender wave to Jake Sr. that the call was for him. As the old man came to the corner of the bar to take the call, Sutterman slipped onto a stool out of sight of the old man, around the partition, right next to the phone where Jake Sr. was standing so that he could hear the conversation. Sutterman inserted what looked like a hearing aid in his ear, which was really a sound amplifier to help him hear at least the old man’s end of the conversation above the background bar noise. He kept his back to the partition, anxiously waiting to hear the contents of the call.

  Jake Sr. answered. “Hello?”

  Jake was on the line. “Hi, Gramps,” he began. “How are things and how’s Aunt Winnie?”

  Jake Sr. was delighted to hear from Jake. “Much better now I’m talking to you, son!”

  Behind the petition, Sutterman punched the air in satisfaction when he realized that Harrigan was on the other end of the line as th
e old man continued.

  “She’s back home, Jake. They kept her in for a while under observation and gave her some medication. Now she seems much better.”

  Jake was delighted. “That’s great, Gramps and I’ve got some good news for you. We’ve got the bastard who was impersonating me and now I need your help to enable us to bring him in!”

  Jake Sr. was over the moon. “Oh, my God! You’ve actually got him? That’s amazing!”

  Behind the partition, Sutterman almost dropped his drink in excitement as he carried on listening.

  “So what would you like me to do, son?” Jake Sr. asked.

  Jake thought a moment. “I need you to come over to Belfast with those MI5 guys and arrange to meet me tomorrow morning at a safe address where I can bring this hyena in?”

  Jake Sr. thought a moment. “Okay, let me get this organized. The safest place to bring him is outside the main gate of the Palace Barracks in Belfast at 9 o’clock in the morning.”

  Behind the partition, Sutterman was scribbling down the information on a beer coaster, a look of total ecstasy on his cruel face as Jake Sr. continued.

  “I’ll make sure there are no guns and no media and also make sure that if I’m not there to make sure they keep their promise, you won’t show up!”

  “Sounds like a plan, Gramps. See you tomorrow, Bye” Jake went off the line.

  Back in the bar, Jake Sr. quickly returned to the tap room, grabbed Bessie the dog and headed for the door. Outside it was now dark in the parking lot and as Jake Sr. headed quickly for home, he heard a familiar voice behind him. He swung round to see Sutterman standing there

  “Well, isn’t this cozy then?” Sutterman began. “I wondered how you and that grandson of yours were communicating. You fooled those two jerks from MI5, but you didn’t fool me, old man.”

  Jake Sr. looked at him like he had just crawled from under a rock and Bessie at his side was already baring her teeth. “What the hell are you talking about, you moron?”

  Sutterman then made his mistake, the alcohol fogging his senses as he grabbed Jake by the collar and snarled in his face. “I know what’s goin’ on old man!”