The Game (23 page)

Victor released Dietrich’s wrist and scrambled away. The fight had vanished from Dietrich. He seemed to have forgotten Victor even existed, let alone that he had been trying to kill him five seconds before. Dietrich wasn’t looking at him. He was exposed. Vulnerable. But Victor didn’t take the opportunity to disarm his opponent and drive the knife deep into his neck, even though he had been taught never to fail to exploit a weakness, never to give away an advantage. Such single-minded ruthlessness had seen him triumph against the odds several times, but he held himself back now. He didn’t attack because there was something in the new arrival’s voice that stopped him. Something intriguing.

He stood and faced the new guy, taking his gaze off Dietrich because he was no longer a threat.

A man stood outside the open kitchen door. He looked to be somewhere in his mid to late forties. His eyes were small and deep set, pale blue bordering on grey. His skin was weathered brown and red – naturally pale skin exposed to a lot of sun. Deep crow’s feet etched the corners of his eyes. His hair was short, a mix of blond and grey, as was the short beard that covered his cheeks and surrounded thin lips. His expression was one of contemptuous amusement.

His neck was a trunk of muscle as wide as his skull. The bones of his face were dense and prominent beneath the weathered skin. He was about Victor’s height and a little broader. He looked like the few big guys Victor had known in the military: men with natural size and strength, made denser and stronger over many years of hard physical existence, not artificially gained via ritualised weightlifting that built slow-twitch muscle fibre only good at lifting and pushing and too slow and too hungry for oxygen to be of much use when life depended on it.

The man called Hart gestured to Coughlin. ‘Step back from the two lovers.’ He looked at Dietrich. ‘Safety that shiv.’

The urgency left Coughlin’s body language and he backed off. Dietrich obeyed without pause or question. He went to slip the knife back into its belt sheath.

‘No,’ Hart said. ‘Give the weapon to me. You can’t be trusted with it.’

This time Dietrich hesitated a moment. Victor couldn’t predict what he would do next, but he nodded and walked over to Hart, and gave him the knife. He was only a couple of inches shorter and probably weighed about the same, but he seemed tiny and insignificant next to Hart, because he acted as he felt.

Hart motioned and Dietrich moved aside. Hart stepped into the kitchen and Francesca hurried over to him. She threw her arms around his neck and he effortlessly lifted her by the waist from the floor. They kissed, long and hard.

Victor watched for a moment, questions in his mind now answering themselves one by one, only to be replaced by others.

When Hart and Francesca finally stopped kissing, he lowered her down and whispered something to her. Then his gaze locked on Victor. Francesca didn’t make eye contact.

‘What’s your name, compadre?’ Hart asked Victor.

‘Kooi.’

‘The man we’ve all been waiting for.’

‘I thought it was the other way around.’

Hart ignored the comment. ‘Good to finally put a face to the name.’ He walked towards Victor. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Victor said, ‘Funny, I’ve heard nothing about you.’

A corner of Hart’s mouth turned upwards. He stopped and stared into Victor’s eyes. ‘I see you’re already integrating yourself into the team.’

Victor glanced at Dietrich. ‘We’re one big happy family.’

Leeson said to Hart, ‘We’ve got a lot to discuss. Join me outside?’

‘You’re the boss.’

They left out of the front door.

‘I’m going to clean up,’ Dietrich said to no one in particular and headed for the interior door. As he passed Victor, he added, ‘One all,’ referencing the wound to his shoulder and the one to Victor’s leg. ‘We’ll settle the scores another time.’

‘You mean when your daddy isn’t around?’

Dietrich’s jaw muscles bunched and he knocked his uninjured shoulder with Victor as he passed.

‘Never a dull moment,’ Coughlin said, then laughed. ‘I had my money on you, by the way.’ He exited through the front door, leaving Victor alone with Francesca.

She didn’t look at Victor when she said, ‘I was going to—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Victor interrupted.

‘Your leg—’

‘Is fine.’

He ignored her and looked through the kitchen window, to where Hart and Leeson stood talking on the driveway. Behind them stood the vehicle Hart had arrived in. Victor hadn’t heard it during his fight with Dietrich because his senses had been focused on keeping him alive. Hart led Leeson to the back of the white panel van and unlocked and opened the back doors. He pointed into the interior that Victor couldn’t see. Leeson smiled and patted Hart on the back.

Excellent job, Mr Hart
, Victor read on Leeson’s lips. Then Leeson turned away and Victor couldn’t follow the conversation. Behind Victor, Francesca cleaned up the mess caused by the fight with Dietrich.

Victor thought about the effect of Hart’s arrival on the group’s dynamic. Leeson was the employer, but Hart was the alpha. Dietrich and Coughlin were afraid of him for good reason. It wasn’t just his physicality. He had the kind of gaze that could make anyone back down. The kind of gaze that was supremely confident because he had been born without fear, and long experience had affirmed the innate knowledge that nothing the world could offer necessitated his concern. Certainly no man. Dietrich and Coughlin had the sense to register that aura of invincibility and the experience to know it was best to concede to it.

Victor had seen that kind of gaze before. Sometimes in those who were borderline insane, or way over that line. Other times in those who had no right to it and whose faith in their own invincibility dematerialised when truly tested. Yet others, though, had every right to that confidence because they were still breathing despite a life of acute violence. Victor didn’t know which applied to Hart. Until he did, Hart was a problem.

Through the window he watched Hart close the rear doors of the white panel van, slide the locking bolt across and then fix a padlock. The van looked at least eight years old. Grime darkened the paintwork to an uneven grey. The wheels were filthy. It was the kind of van removal men used, and couriers and tradesmen of all descriptions. Dents marked the bodywork. It looked like a well-used vehicle that wasn’t looked after beyond the absolute essentials. It would blend into traffic, its driver mistaken for a regular working man, one of any number of trades that did not include professional killing.

The rear compartment might contain almost anything, but clearly it was something Leeson needed to put the job into action. And only Hart had been trustworthy or capable enough to transport it. Or whatever was in there belonged to Hart. Victor memorised the licence plate to pass on to Muir. It would most likely do no good, because if Hart had been chosen for this important task he would be competent enough not to make any of the amateurish errors necessary for Muir to discover anything useful from the licence alone.

Francesca had taken a seat at the table. She toyed with her coffee cup. She didn’t look at Victor.

‘How long have you known Hart?’

She still didn’t make eye contact. ‘Long enough.’

Victor slipped the butter knife into a pocket. It had been a poor weapon to use against Dietrich, but any weapon was better than none. The kitchen door opened and Hart walked in, ducking his head under the low frame.

‘What’s the job?’ Victor asked Leeson once the younger man had closed the door behind him.

Leeson didn’t answer. He poured himself a glass of water. Hart stood near the door, blocking the only way out, should it come to it.

‘Tell me what the job is,’ Victor said. ‘Right now. Or I walk.’

Leeson faced him. ‘I’ll tell you this evening, Mr Kooi. Now Mr Hart is back with us there is no need to keep you in the dark any longer.’

‘Except until tonight.’

‘Except until then,’ Leeson agreed. ‘We shall all eat together here and after dinner is concluded I will explain the job and what your role is to be within its remit. Okay?’

Victor nodded.

Hart said to Francesca, ‘Time to go.’

She stood and made sure to glance at Victor as she left the kitchen. This time Victor didn’t look back.

‘I’ll see you again tonight, Dutch,’ Hart said, then left too.

Leeson followed and Victor watched the three through the window. The driver’s door slammed behind Hart and Victor felt the faint hit of bass wash through him. Hart drove the van with Francesca in the cab next to him. Leeson drove behind in the minivan. Victor’s gaze stayed on the rear of the white panel van, and whatever valuable contents its back compartment held, until it had disappeared from view.

Victor heard Jaeger’s heavy footsteps behind him. Victor faced him.

‘That guy is bad news,’ Jaeger said.

‘Tell me about it.’

Jaeger stroked his stubble and said, ‘I’m going to kill him.’

Victor looked at Jaeger for a moment. He stood on the opposite side of the table. He wore the same loose khakis and T-shirt he’d worn when Victor had first met him, or identical garments. The shirt was tight around his massive shoulders, arms and chest. His body fat percentage was almost as low as Victor’s. He was hugely strong but quick and fit and like all the men Leeson had hired, he was experienced and dangerous. Victor would happily face Dietrich armed with a knife again rather than Jaeger armed with just his bare hands. But Jaeger looked at that moment like an amateur who was in over his head in something he should have stayed well clear of. And now there was no way out.

‘Why?’ Victor asked.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

Victor shook his head.

Jaeger didn’t blink. ‘You’ve seen him, right? You’ve spoken to him?’

Victor nodded.

‘Then you must know what I’m talking about. He’s all wrong. I know you can see it too. Everything about him stinks of trouble. What’s he doing here? Why did he go away and come back? Why is he all buddy-buddy with Leeson?’

‘I don’t know,’ Victor said. ‘You know more about him than I do. This is the first time I’ve talked to him.’

‘And what’s your point? I only had to meet the guy for five seconds to know he was playing from an entirely different rulebook.’

Victor kept his voice even. ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’

‘Then you’re an idiot,’ Jaeger said, his voice edging on a growl. ‘I thought you were switched on. Don’t tell me you’re another bonehead like Dietrich and Coughlin.’

‘I’m switched on enough to know telling me that you’re going to kill one of the team is a bad idea for all sorts of reasons. So you’d better start talking.’

‘That’s more like it.’ Jaeger smiled. ‘That’s what I was waiting for.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘How long have you been doing this kind of work?’

‘Years,’ Victor said.

‘How many jobs have you done?’

‘Countless.’

‘How many times have you been expendable?’

‘Most of them.’

Jaeger nodded and rested his knuckles on the table. ‘So tell me, why would this job be any different?’

‘You’re saying Hart is the cleanup guy.’

Jaeger nodded again. ‘Why else is he here? He looks at me like I’m nothing. I didn’t have to be in the room to know he looked at you in the exact same way and I know you noticed. Coughlin pretends he doesn’t see it. Dietrich gets no better, but Dietrich is a dick. He expects people to look at him like he’s a piece of shit because that’s how he looks at everyone else. But Hart is not wound up tight enough to snap at any point like Dietrich. Hart is like a block of ice. He knows a lot more than us. I can tell. And what he knows is the reason why we’re nothing to him. Because we will be nothing. When we’ve done what Leeson wants doing, Hart is going to make sure there’s no comeback.’

‘There’s four of us,’ Victor said. ‘And one of him.’

‘Do you really think he’s going to try anything when we’re together? He’ll get us one by one. When we’re vulnerable.’

‘You’re a lot bigger than he is.’

Jaeger laughed. ‘Somehow I don’t think he’s going to try wrestling me. If you had to kill me, would you come at me head on?’

‘No.’

‘How would you do it?’

‘I’d prefer to keep that to myself.’

‘If you wouldn’t come at me head on why would Hart? He’s already got it all figured out. Three seconds after I first met him he’d worked out how he was going to kill me. Same with you.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘So you can help me kill him, of course. I’m not here chatting for the sake of it. What do you think this is? It’s recruitment time, friend.’

‘Why would I want to help you?’

‘You want to stay alive, don’t you?’

‘I’m a lot harder to kill than I look.’

Jaeger smirked. ‘Is that because you face threats like Hart all on your lonesome? Maybe, but why would you if you don’t have to? And do you choose to fight on your enemy’s terms? No chance. It’s on your terms or not at all. You hide it well, but you’re a lot smarter than you want people to see. But I see it. You’re always watching. You never relax. You’re always working out what your next move is going to be well before you need to make it. That’s good. I like that. I know it means you’re not the kind of man who blindly rolls the dice. You stack the odds in your favour first. So I know you’d rather it was two against one.’

‘We could just walk away. No one is here to stop us.’

‘No, we can’t. My real name is Jaeger, just like you’re really Kooi. Leeson knows who we are. He knows everything about us. We run, and Hart will hunt us down one by one. Besides,’ Jaeger added. ‘If you help me on this then I can help you take care of Dietrich too.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

Jaeger laughed. ‘Because you hate the prick. I don’t blame you.’

‘I don’t hate anyone.’

‘Then for self-preservation. Get him before he gets you. He’s no Hart, but do you really want to be looking over your shoulder for him all the time when you need to be watching out for Hart?’ He shook his head. ‘Of course you don’t. And don’t tell me you think that little scuffle was the end of it for you and Dietrich? That’s just the beginning. He’s going to come for you. Knowing Dietrich, sooner rather than later.’

‘How can you be so sure about that?’

‘Because he told me. People have always confided in me. I look like a trustworthy guy, don’t I? Plus, he wants me to help him.’

‘And will you?’

The wide shoulders shrugged. ‘That depends, doesn’t it?’

‘On whether I help you kill Hart?’

Jaeger rapped the knuckles of his right hand on the tabletop. ‘Told you I knew you were switched on.’

‘Why haven’t you asked Dietrich to help you instead? You’ve only known me a day.’

‘Because Dietrich is a dick. I wouldn’t trust him to tie his shoelaces so I’m sure as shit not going to trust him backing me up against Hart.’

‘Coughlin then?’

‘Are you joking? I tell him I want Hart dead, first thing he’s going to do is go straight to Hart to rat me out.’

‘How do you know I won’t?’

‘Several reasons.’

‘Which are?’

‘You’re the new guy, and after Hart, I’ve been here longest. Your word won’t mean shit compared to mine.’

‘That’s not enough of a reason.’

‘It’s a secondary consideration. The reason I know you won’t go to Hart is because you want Hart out of the way, just like I do. Only you’d want Hart gone even if I hadn’t told you he was bad news.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you want his woman.’

‘If you want my help so badly you’ll be happy to tell me what you’re working on in the barn.’

‘Oh, you’d just love to know that, wouldn’t you? But no deal. I’ll show you when this over. You wouldn’t believe me otherwise.’

‘How do I know this isn’t a setup?’

Jaeger laughed. ‘What if it is? This whole job is a setup. Haven’t you worked that out yet?’

‘How do you plan to do it?’

‘Leeson’s going to fill us in on the job tonight, right? After dinner, he told me. We’ll all be there, sitting around this here table. What I want you to do is piss off Dietrich. I’ll leave you to decide how best to do that. Shouldn’t be hard given your relationship. Dietrich won’t need much of a push for things to get lively. Which will be the distraction I’ll use to get that little pistol from Leeson and turn it on Hart. I don’t care how tough he is. He’s not tough enough to survive half a dozen bullets in the cranium.’

‘But he tells Dietrich to stop, he’ll stop.’

‘Dietrich’s scared of Hart, sure. But he hates you and he’s dumb enough to take whatever bait you toss him. By the time Hart tells him to back down it will be too late. I only need Dietrich to be Dietrich for a few seconds.’

‘Then what happens?’

‘I’m not taking any chances with Hart. I’ll unload Leeson’s pop gun into him. Then we can take care of Dietrich together. Won’t be difficult between the two of us. And Coughlin isn’t anything without a gun, which he won’t have. Which just leaves Leeson and Francesca. Obviously, we don’t touch her. Unless you’re into that kind of thing. It’d be fun. We could—’

‘And Leeson?’

‘Sweat the money out of him. He’s got some hard currency somewhere nearby. Without Hart to protect him he’ll be soaking his trousers. He’ll give us anything we want to save his skin. The details of his numbered accounts. His list of clients. Whatever.’

‘And then?’

‘Then we kill him too. Slowly. Bastard was going to have his pet clean us once we’d done his little job. I want him to know the error of his ways before he dies.’

‘Then?’

‘We burn this place to the ground with them inside it. And we go our separate ways.’

‘How can I trust you?’

‘How can I trust you back? I can’t trust you and you can’t trust me because neither of us is stupid enough to not know how this business works. But what’s the point of going through all that to save our skins just to die trying to kill each other at the end of it? I want to put this shit behind me. I want to live.’

‘Good point.’

‘Told you I think of everything. So, Mr Kooi of Holland, are you in?’

‘I’m thinking about it.’

‘Time is of the essence here, in case you’ve forgotten. So you’d better stop thinking and get on with acting.’

‘That’s the exact opposite of how I normally operate.’

‘Do you normally sign up for a job without knowing the target, and get put into a team you didn’t know existed?’

Victor didn’t answer.

‘And do the people you normally work for plan for your death before you’ve even actually done anything to compromise them?’

‘It’s more common than you would think.’

‘If you say so. But tell me, did you get out of those holes by sitting back and letting the bastards trap you in a corner?’

Victor shook his head. ‘I’ve always found the best form of defence is to attack.’

‘Exactly,’ Jaeger breathed. ‘So are we going to let that bastard Leeson and his Rottweiler stub us from existence the second we’re no longer any use to them?’

‘As you rightly said: that’s not how I do business.’

‘So you’re in?’

‘I’m in.’