Dark Matter (47 page)

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Authors: John Rollason

BOOK: Dark Matter
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Severine could see perfectly well, what concerned her was if the men started to shoot at their car.

'Natasha lay down will you, there's a good girl.'

Natasha did as she was asked.  Pulling Sheepy out of her rucksack, she cradled it for comfort.

The lead car pulled closer.  Severine made the turn into Theaterstrasse and headed in the opposite direction from which they had originally come. 
If they are local agents then they will know Zurich far better than I will, plus there are two of them so they have the advantage there.  What advantages do I have?
  She struggled to think. 
Tactics and the element of surprise.  I have trained for snatch missions, both offensively and defensively.  They don't know what I am going to do, but I would guess that they will wait for an opportunity to get one car in front and then do a forced stop, just like the police are trained to do.  The Police.
  Severine's mind was starting to work properly now. 
I doubt that the men following are “legals”,
more likely they are security officers posing as businessmen.  Either way they can only snatch or kill us, they won't have any means of arresting us, but the local police do.  They could apply for extradition, but that will take time, more so if we commit a crime...or a road traffic accident…

Severine headed north out of the city in the general direction of the airport. 
Where there is an airport there usually are police.  Once we start to see airport signs, they should decide to wait for us to stop there.  Which we will, albeit abruptly.
She managed a chuckle, and Solomon asked what she found funny.

'Oh I've just figured out how we are going to get out of this.  Fasten your seat-belt and ask Natasha to as well.'

Severine drove quickly but not excessively so.  She needed speed to keep them from overtaking, but didn't want to have an accident.  Not yet anyway.

They made the turn off the 51 for the airport and Severine did as expected and headed for the Departures terminal.  She was driving carefully and slowly. 
I only get one attempt at this, have to get it right.
There was a section right outside the Departures entrance signposted “Nur autorisierte Träger” which she knew from her limited German to mean “Authorised Vehicles Only.”  She ignored the warning and drove past the sign.  The two cars followed at a discrete distance.  There was a police car parked to one side.  The officers stood next to their vehicle.  Severine took a deep breath, turned the steering wheel slightly to point towards the police car, and floored the accelerator.  The impact was not great.  In the limited distance, the old Peugeot only managed to reach twenty-five miles per hour.  It was enough though.  The front of the Peugeot was wrecked.  Its driving days were over.  The police car was badly damaged and had been shunted forward into a bus with the impact.  The officers drew their weapons. 
Bonus
.  They held their weapons up high and trained them on Severine and Solomon.

'Verlassen Sie einen Träger!'  One of the officers shouted.

Severine didn't catch it, but guessed that they were being ordered to get out.  She told Solomon and Natasha to get out as she unbuckled her own seat belt, making sure to keep her hands visible.  She walked around the front of their car and stood simply in front of the officers offering no resistance, posing no threat.  They saw Solomon get out next and she held the back door open for Natasha.  The two officers visibly relaxed when they saw her.  A small girl with a toy.

'Do you speak English?'  Severine asked, 'I'm so sorry, my foot slipped.  Are you OK?'

The officers returned their weapons to their holsters and approached Severine.  They did speak English and began by asking her if they were injured.  Severine made a show of checking Solomon and Natasha and looking despondently at the front of their car.  She saw the two cars that had been following them drive off.  Their opportunity to snatch them gone.

The Swiss police were efficient.  Another patrol car arrived to relieve the damaged one; the two officers were going to spend the rest of the day filling out forms.  Two breakdown vehicles arrived to remove the vehicles.  Severine had expected them all to be arrested, or just her at the very least.  However, she was informed that as no one had been injured and Severine's documents were in order then it could be sorted out between Severine's insurance company and the police's motor vehicle department.  She had admitted liability to the two officers and as they were stationary and were not even in their car, they were confident that all would end well.  Severine was breathalysed, purely routine, and when that showed zero it was the end of their interest.

'Is there somewhere we can hire a car?'  Severine asked.

'Of course.  There is a company just inside the terminal.'  The older officer replied.

Severine apologised again and led Solomon and Natasha away and into the terminal building.  She used a credit card to hire a car and they left to pick it up.  As they pulled out of the rental compound Severine drove past the airport exit.

'Where are we going?'  Solomon asked, confused and still a bit shaken up.

'Long term parking.  We are dumping this and taking the train.  Once they know we are not at the police station they will come looking for us.  I'd rather they were looking in the wrong place.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

22
The Land of Knights

 

 

12:15
              29 December  [11:15  29 December GMT] 

Train from Zurich to Geneva, Switzerland

 

Although, geographically, Switzerland is a small country its borders with Italy, France, and Germany have meant that politically and economically it has always punched well above its weight.  Severine had opted for the train to Geneva, within Switzerland, so as to avoid any possible need for identification.  The journey was only three hours and she figured they had at least that before the Russians figured out that they were not using the hire car.  Geneva was also very close to the French border, and she felt that as a native speaker of French, France was their best bet at getting to England safely.  One thought was troubling her however.  By using her true identity to hire the car, she had now placed herself on the security grid.  This did not concern her directly but it did mean that her grandmother would also be on the grid. 
They could get to me that way.
  She knew that her grandmother had many good friends in Felletin, the local police amongst them, so any official inquiries would be handled discretely.  It was the unofficial ones that were of concern.  The thought of two burly Russian agents presenting themselves on her grandmother's doorstep and threatening her was as much as she could bear. 
I need to do something about this, as soon as we get to Geneva I'll make some calls,
she promised herself.

She was starting to like Solomon, the more that she opened up to her the more she realised how much she had lost.  She still had no idea why this woman was so important though.  Solomon kept tight lipped on that point.  However, the escape from her father and the false accusation of murder helped to explain her caution.  Severine had inquired after Natasha's father and Solomon had been coy about that as well, saying that she wasn't in touch with the father and leaving it at that.  At twenty-five Solomon was junior to Severine by eleven years, but being a mother had made her much more mature.  Severine wondered if children were in her future, she couldn't imagine it so,
but it must be wonderful to be a mother.

Their train arrived at Geneva on time.  Severine used a public phone to call Anne-Marie,
Julianne
, she corrected herself.  She explained the situation to her and asked her to have her uncle look in on her grandmother, update her as to what was happening and provide any protection he could.  In this way, she felt that the Russians or anyone else wouldn't be able to trace the calls back to her.  It would have to do, calling her direct would only increase the risk to her grandmother and would not do anything more to reduce the threat.

They took a taxi from the rank and asked the driver where they could get a Mercedes on the cheap.  Severine wanted to be in a faster, more substantial vehicle this time and she wanted it cheap to avoid a main dealer and the additional questions they ask.  The taxi driver took them to back-street car trader who was obviously a friend or close acquaintance of the taxi driver.  The two of them shook hands warmly and the taxi driver waved in their direction when he spoke. 

'I have spoken to Henri, the owner.  This is where I buy my cars; he should give you a good deal.'

Severine thanked him and paid him the fare plus a reasonable tip.  Henri didn't have a great selection, only a dozen or so vehicles, but they were all Mercedes and they chose a large one with many kilometres on the clock.  It had been a taxi in a former life, but this meant that it would have been well maintained and not overly exerted.  The offer of a cash payment elicited an additional discount, but Solomon struggled to extract the payment without showing the large bundles of cash she was carrying.  They falsified their registration details, Severine using an old address she had once stayed at with a friend in Paris.  That had been more than ten years previously and had no connection to her now.

Key in hand they left in their new purchase and headed in the direction of Lyon across the border.  They stopped at a furnishings store on the outskirts of Geneva, purchasing some thick woollen blankets.  Severine also purchased a small, mahogany coffee table, which she placed on the back seat.  The plan was for Solomon and Natasha to hide in the boot, sandwiched between the blankets to dampen any sounds they might make whilst Severine could use her real identification to go through the border checks, should they be stopped.  The coffee table would appear to make Severine a local who had been on a day trip to Switzerland. 
It's risky but the least risky option we have.

The border crossing was busy, Severine was pleased to see. 
Less chance they would want to stop a single female driver, I hope.
  They had checked the sound insulation by Solomon making noise whilst in the boot, the combination of blankets and the solid construction of the vehicle provided a good level of dampening.

Severine waited patiently in line, moving ever closer as the vehicles in front were waved through. 
Wave us through, please wave us through.
She was waved to one side.  The border guard approached her window and she wound it down.

The border guard said it was just routine, but Severine's pulse quickened.  She assured the guard that she wasn't carrying any contraband, told him she had been visiting relatives for a couple of days.  The guard wasn't at all interested; he made no notes except to write down the registration number of the vehicle to show he had stopped it.  He had nearly made his quota for the day and he was only half way through his shift.  He liked to make his numbers early and this way he could relax for the rest of his shift.  There was also a game on later and one of his colleagues had a small TV they could watch it on.  He waved Severine on.

              As she watched the border crossing disappearing in her rear-view mirror Severine let out a long deep breath and relaxed her shoulders from the hunched position they had adopted with nervous stress.  She found a suitable place to stop a few miles on to let Solomon and Natasha out of the boot. 

'Are we safe now mummy?'  Natasha asked, looking up at her mother with wide, inquiring eyes.

'Not yet darling, we are nearly there.  Once we get to England then we will be safe.' 

She hugged her; grateful that Natasha hadn't made a sound all the time they were in the boot.  She had just laid there holding her mother's hand, her eyes shut, her breathing shallow.

They headed north towards Dijon picking up the E60 following it towards Paris, where they spent the night Severine choosing a small mid-market hotel, comfortable but anonymous.  She gave them a brief tour of the city by car, they couldn't afford the time for anything more except a meal at a typical Parisian cafe.  Memories, good and bad, flooded back into Severine's mind.  She still absolutely loved the city, but she hated some of the time she had spent there.  Paris is an intimate city, and like any intimate relationship, the good and the bad are both accentuated. 

 

Severine still had mixed emotions, leaving Paris for her was like leaving a bad lover, you need to go, but it is still painful.  She turned her mind to practical matters. 
The question now is, how do we get safely into England?  A train or plane is still out of the question.  So too is going on foot.  That leaves driving across or taking a boat.  The English Channel is too unpredictable for a small boat and I doubt we could handle a big enough boat.  That leaves a vehicular crossing, either by Eurotunnel or on a ferry.  Both are not without risk, but I would bet that the Eurotunnel would have the more stringent security of the two.  That just leaves the ferry...

Severine considered making the crossing with refugees, hiding in the back of a lorry. 
But
, she reasoned,
that would be the main focus of the border guards and therefore should be discounted.
  They made for the port of Cherbourg, as they drew near Solomon and Natasha were confined again to the boot.  They had opted for the high-speed crossing, at just over two hours it was the best choice considering that Solomon and Natasha would have to stay in the boot the entire time.  The French side provided little in the way of inspection.  Severine was waved onto the ferry and pointed to where she should park.  She clicked the boot open, just slightly, so as to provide ventilation for them before leaving to join the other passengers on the upper deck.

 

About an hour into the crossing, the smell was becoming intolerable.  Natasha had soiled herself, but hadn't made a sound.  Solomon was proud, but also concerned about the smell.  In their confinement, it was so strong they were both starting to gasp for air.  She also started to worry that someone might notice the smell and get curious.  In her mind, there was no other option. 
We will have to leave and get Natasha cleaned up.
  Solomon pulled back the blankets on top of them and let her eyes adjust to the slight increase in light.  She listened intently but could hear nothing above the thrum of the engines and the roar of the water as the large catamaran cut through the water at high speed.  She slowly raised the boot lid, waiting again for her eyes to adjust.  She peeked out, and seeing no one about, climbed out before helping Natasha.  There was a door about thirty feet away, above it was the international green exit sign.  The door was unlocked and they stole up the stairs to the level above.

There were a lot of people on this level, just milling about as people do when they have time on their hands.  Those who walked close by scrunched up their noses when they were assaulted by the smell. 
Better find a toilet, and quick.
  They didn't have to go far, and once inside Solomon helped Natasha undress.  Luckily, her knickers had withstood the worst of it, they went in the bin.  Her trousers she rinsed under the hot tap and dried them under the hand dryer.  After Natasha was dressed, they headed back towards the stairs to the car deck.  As they approached the door to the stairs, a passing member of the crew called to them.

'I'm sorry you can't go down to the vehicle level until we dock.'

'But I have to get something from my car.'  Solomon pleaded.

'It will have to wait.  It’s only another hour and we will be docking.'

Solomon didn't push the point, didn't want to make any kind of scene.  She led Natasha by her hand and entered one of the lounges.  The smell of freshly cooked food hit them instantly. 
It would be torture to sit here and not to have something to eat.
  They joined the queue.

They ate and relaxed, but Solomon kept a constant eye on the time.  After fifty minutes, she could wait no longer. 
We have to get back down there before the others.  It is time to go.
  They walked back out into the corridor and opened the door to the deck below.  No one stopped them this time.  They crept down the stairs and opened the lower door.  Solomon peeked out, all was clear.  They snuck back into the boot of their car and Solomon pulled the lid down on them.  As she drew the blankets over them, she let out a sigh of relief, confident they had not been spotted.

The security officer monitoring the CCTV turned to his boss.  He had just watched a woman and child climb into the boot of a Mercedes.

'What do you think?'

'Leave it to the customs agents.  Let them know the details.  No point in us making a fuss.'

Severine joined the queue of people working their way down the stairs to their cars.  She had purchased some wine from the shop and she put this in the boot.

'We are at the port now.  Stay quiet until I get you out.'

She closed the boot lid and got into the car.  There was more impatience with the drivers getting off than there had been boarding.  Their Mercedes nearly hit twice by others rushing to leave.  Eventually they made it outside and joined the queue for customs.  She was pleased to note that again most were just being waved through.  She pulled forward, level with the customs agent.

'Good day madam.  Your papers please.'

Severine handed them over.

'Travelling alone?'

'Yes'

'Where are you headed?'

'To London, I'm visiting my brother.'

'I see.  What have you got in your boot?'

'Just some wine.  I bought it on the trip over.' 

'I need to see it, please pull in over there.'  He pointed to a lay-by.

Severine's heart stopped. 
Perhaps he will just see the wine and the blankets.
  It was a slim hope but she clung resolutely to it.  She pulled into the lay-by and switched off her engine.  The border guard asked her to step out of her vehicle and open the boot.  Two more customs agents appeared. 
No
, she realised,
those are armed police.
  They stood either side of her car.  She opened the boot with her key and stood to one side showing the guard that there was nothing to see.

'Please remove the blankets.'  He asked.

'They are just blankets.  I use them for picnics.'  Solomon pleaded.

'The blankets.  Remove them for me.' 

There was no point in protesting further she realised.  The game, for whatever reason, was up.

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