The Heist (7 page)

“
Hawkeye will
be installing a new state of the art alarm system. It will be
triggered by anyone crossing through the laser beams and cannot be
disarmed by anyone other than the code holders — namely me, and
Martinez.” Xavier had at first toyed with the idea of putting
antipersonnel land mines in the grounds, but discounted it when he
realised that Belcastro’s men were as useless as a chocolate
fireguards and would more likely blow themselves up than do any
actual protection work.  “As for Ballbreaker...” a small, wry
smirk formed on Xavier’s lips, “…he will be in charge of training
all of you pussies. As it is you are all out of shape and would
struggle to run a fucking bath, never mind chase any potential
threats.”

Xavier knew that
Ballbreaker was a sadistic bastard, which was a fact that would be
evident to Belcastro’s guards very quickly.

As one of the
Belcastro guards piped up to query why the hell they should do
anything that Xavier told them to, Ballbreaker merely smiled,
walked over to him and connected the heel of his hand under the
cocky bastard’s chin, knocking his head back and rendering him
unconscious.

“
Any other
questions?” Xavier looked around slowly, his eyes narrowed as he
stared each and every man down.  The guards shook their heads
and averted their eyes from his steely stare.

“
That’s what
I fucking thought.”

As Xavier
stood in front of his soldiers and the assembled Belcastro guards,
he cracked his neck from side to side, before addressing them.
“There is a new fucking world order in this shithole
starting
now!
You
do not speak, think, eat, shit or jerk-off without the express
permission of one of
my
men.  Any desertion from duties, any
complaints or failure to meet the standards that I have set will be
met with swift and absolute repercussions.  You don’t know me
or what I am capable of.  I don’t give a fuck. I’m not here
for the good of my fucking health. I’m here because you cunts can’t
do your fucking jobs and your employer is sick to buggery of being
protected by a bunch of hormonal pre-pubescent schoolgirls, yeah?
So let’s get one thing fucking clear — ‘failure’ is not a word in
my fucking vocabulary.  Castration, however, fucking is.
 Don’t think for one minute that I won’t rip your Ping-Pong
balls off and force feed them to you if you even
look
at me the wrong
way!  I fully expect that in the next twenty four hours you
will start to resemble a half decent squad of bodyguards that you
were hired to be.  If you don’t think you can handle that? Get
the fuck out now.”

Just then
there was a shuffling of feet, and one of the guards stood forward
hoping to take Xavier up on his offer to leave. Xavier’s jaw ticked
as he silently regarded the man. Walking over to him, he asked for
his name which was given in a small stammer as Fredrico. Reaching
his hand out he said, “No hard feelings, Fredrico, this life isn’t
for everyone yeah?” The false sense of security filled the nervous
guard. The air was oppressive and no one else seemed to even
breathe as they watched the interaction.  

Fredrico took Xavier’s
hand to shake it but before he could, Xavier had swiped his feet
away from him, and twisted his head as he fell.  Fredrico’s
neck was snapped before his lifeless body even hit the
ground.

“
I think I’ve
made my fucking position here clear.” As he took out a cigarette,
flicked the lid of his lighter three times then lit it, Xavier took
a leisurely draw whilst eyeballing his new recruits.

Leaving Ballbreaker to
get on with organising the guards into teams for training, Xavier
checked in on Hawkeye to make sure he had everything he needed to
install the security systems before he pulled out his cell and left
a message for Shuggie to let him know what was happening. While the
entire household was in organised chaos, Xavier would patrol the
mansion and grounds to ensure that there would be no attempted
break-ins tonight.  Because if there were? God help the fucker
that crossed Xavier Raige.

The mid-day
sun was beating down on Alicia’s skin as she strolled along the
cobbled pathway. It was that hot that she had to tie her hair back
into a high pony. She never wore her hair up as it was like a
security shield for her, but she was melting here.
Large rounded shades covered her eyes as she took
in the sights. The scenery was breath-taking as she glanced over to
the marina. Large yachts and speedboats in their berthing bays,
people relaxing and soaking up the rays on the deck of their
expensive toys.

Alicia thought
to herself,
fools and their money are
easily parted
!

Her life was
simple and she liked it that way. She owned a modest home in
London and had an apartment in her native Italy where she was
hoping to return to live full time in the near future. She was
thinking of renovating the Carberletti Ancestral home — a grand
luxurious mansion with acres of grounds which she had inherited.
The mansion and grounds had been left abandoned and unmaintained
for decades.

Alicia’s had
four loves in her life — her two pink and purple Glocks that were
always concealed on her person, her pink Audi TT, and Frazzle, her
little white Bengal tiger cub.
She didn’t
need nor want some male to come along and start ordering her about
and changing her ways.

Nope, she was
content and happy!

After an hour of doing
the tourist thing, the heat had become unbearable for her.
 Glancing around for somewhere that would have air
conditioning, her eyes fell on an old looking building…an Art
Gallery.

“
Perfecto
,”
she thought as she headed inside, sighing with relief as the cool
air conditioning fell on her sun kissed skin.

A piece of
art work caught her eye, and her audible gasps made others stop and
stare at her. Alicia, however, didn’t take any notice of anyone
else, with her shades pushed up onto her head so her angered brown
eyes could see the piece more clearly.

A crowd was
gathering behind her.

“
Excuse me
Madam, is there a problem?” The flustered Curator asked, his broken
English revealing his Italian accent.

Alicia’s head
spun around quickly as she glared up at the man.  Waving her
hand up at him, she was almost jabbing him in the abdomen with her
cherry lolly.

“
No, excuse you, you imbecile!  That painting is not
Spanish nor is it a 1960’s piece by whoever that name is you have
detailed up there! It is in fact by a little unknown artist called
Emiliano Placido. This piece you are falsely advertising was
painted on the 31st October of 1890, and its origin is
Sicily! You are Italian, I can tell by your accent, and yet
still you do not know the origin of this piece?”
The Curator’s demeanour suddenly changed as he
stared into Alicia’s eyes and listened to her scolding.  He
apologised profusely for the error and told Alicia that he would
have the painting removed from public display immediately until
further research was carried to confirm the credentials that the
little ‘Bella’ had just advised him of.

She was a
spitfire that was for sure, and also not a lady that you argued
back with. The curator felt ashamed and embarrassed. She had just
called him out in the middle of his busy gallery all the while
waving a candy stick at him!  He watched in complete
astonishment as she placed the candy back into her mouth, fixed the
sunglasses that were perched on the top of her head back to cover
her eyes, and headed towards to the cashiers desk.

“
Fidiots!”
She mumbled loudly as she demanded a refund for the entrance money,
ignoring the fact that she hadn’t even paid to get in. Blinking
then nodding her head in an over apologetic manner, the cashier
handed the money over and then, after speaking to the gallery
manager, advised Alicia that the painting would be delivered to her
destination of her own choosing as an apology. A smirk crossed over
the brown eyed beauty’s lips as she headed back into the sweltering
heat, wasn’t she glad she had stopped by that
establishment?

Yawning
softly to herself she realised that she was starting to feel tired.
The heat was making her body exhausted and it was time to return to
the resort for a little nap. Tomorrow was her last day of her
vacation and it was going to be a day to remember. She had a full
itinerary planned.

Finally
satisfied that the security measures he had put in place were
taking shape, Xavier left his men in charge of the Belcastro
guards, taking the scenic route back to his base.  Shuggie had
got word that the Pascal mansion had been hit earlier that night,
reinforcing Xavier’s thoughts that he had been hired not a moment
too soon by the old man Belcastro.

Pascal’s
mansion was the closest one to the Belcastro compound and the band
of thieves were as predictable as they were elusive.
The same M.O. was in play, so he knew it was the
same gang he was looking for. They had bypassed the security
systems, raided the mansion for artwork and jewellery before
breaking into the main safe, taking the money and valuables, and
escaped. The difference this time was that the gang had left a
casualty behind. Usually, it was a clean in/out affair, but
they were getting sloppy. A heavily injured guard had been sliced
and left to bleed out on the kitchen floor. Even so, there were
still no clues left behind to help detect them. No DNA, finger
or footprints — nothing.

Xavier was
sure that it was all pointing towards being an inside job. It would
have been easier just to kill the guard and not take the risk that
he might have gleaned Intel which could help track down the
thieves.  They had shown compassion by allowing him to live,
which was the biggest indication that pointed to there being a
personal connection. The thing Xavier needed to figure out
first was who had contacts with all the main families. If he could
find the common denominator, then it wouldn’t take him long to
track them all down.

By the time
he got back to the base, which was an abandoned hotel on the
outskirts of town, Shuggie had already shut himself up for the day.
 The first thing Xavier and Shuggie had done when they arrived
at the dilapidated building was to sun-proof it entirely. The only
downside to his best friend and lieutenant being a vampire was that
one shaft of light and it was ‘Adios Amigos’. Of course, he
and Shuggie had done this wherever they went around the world,
making sure it was all complete before the other men in his Unit
arrived.  No one but Xavier and the Doc held Shuggie’s secret,
and Xavier would take it to his damn grave with him.

Kicking off his boots,
Xavier grabbed a bottle of scotch and headed to his own
quarters.

The last forty
eight hours had been eventful and his body was protesting at even
the slightest movement.
Good
, he thought wryly to himself as
he drank from the bottle, hoping that he would lapse into a coma
and bypass any of the nightmares that usually haunted him.
 Sitting on the edge of the bed he put the bottle down and
started to undress, throwing his clothes onto the floor and sliding
under the covers.  His cell was tucked under his pillow — it
was never switched off — and he folded his arms behind his head and
stared at the ceiling. In the second before his eyes closed
and sleep took him, a face appeared in his mind’s eye.

“
Friera,” his
voice was low, and his hands were running over the smooth curves of
her body

“
Are you
injured? Let me check you out, yeah?” His bike was totalled and
mangled under the wheels of her car, but they were both unscathed.
 Friera was for some inexplicable reason was partially dressed
in a shredded sundress and from his inspection, he could tell she
held nothing but secrets under it.

“
You seem
fine, but there could be internal injuries.” Smirking as he tilted
her chin up with a finger, making her big browns stare into his
eyes.  Friera nodded and gave a shy smile and he wasted no
time in lifting her up, his hands cupping her ass cheeks as he
carried her over to sit on top of the wrecked hood of the car.
 He teased her legs apart and slid his hands slowly up her
thighs, never losing eye contact.

“
God you are beautiful, female.” He inhaled her sweet scent,
she smelled of summer fruits — no, he corrected himself, it was
cherries — she smelled good enough to eat…which was a coincidence
because that was exactly what he intended to do.
Dipping his head, Xavier kissed a trail up her
throat to trace the tip of his tongue over her inner ear, his hands
finding their way to her core, and his thumb rubbing a small circle
slowly over her clit whilst his fingers stroked lazily over her
already damp folds. “You drive me fucking crazy, Friera,” his
words came out more as guttural growls than actual words, and the
small whimpers and moans from her lush lips were all the indication
he needed that she wanted this as much as he did.

Tearing her
dress off her body, Xavier started to kiss, lick and suck his way
down her as she lay back on the hood of her car, writhing and
pleading with him to take her.  Xavier knelt down and leaned
forward, his thumb still circling, but his fingers spreading her
core open. “So beautiful, Friera,” he said almost to himself as he
darted his tongue out to have his first taste of her.