TURKISH DELIGHT by Barry Faulkner (learn to read activity book .txt) 📕
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- Author: Barry Faulkner
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Gold had been kneeling at the door, her AK-47 poised.
‘All quiet?’I asked.
‘All quiet.’
‘Follow me.’ I led off to the side of the building, thinking the side door that I got through the last time would be our best bet for entry. It was. A triangle of light came out of it and lit the ground; it was open. A car was parked nearby.
‘Rambart’s car,’ Gold whispered.
We kept to the other side of the drive that circled the warehouse keeping close to the perimeter wall – the dark side – and made it to the far side of the car. I pushed a hand over the bonnet; it was warm, a good sign that whoever was inside had recently arrived and hopefully had enough business to do to keep them busy whilst we took a look around.
I clicked the safety off my AK-47 and quickly made it round the car to the door; I listened – no sounds. I peeped inside, couldn’t see anybody so I slowly moved inside. It seemed empty, lots of various sized wooden crates just like last time in stacks and singles, somebody could be there amongst them and out of my view. Gold joined me.
‘I’ll go right, you go left – check it’s all clear.’ Army training kicking in: you circle right, your partner circles left, that way you cover all the sniper angles.
We met at the far side of the warehouse. I pointed to the steel staircase at the end and the office on the mezzanine floor that held it. ‘Cover me.’
She nodded. I made my way through the crates to the staircase and started up them. I could hear talking coming from the office. The blinds were closed so I couldn’t see who was inside from the staircase; maybe I would get a peep through at the top.
I didn’t get that far. The crack of the shot and the metallic ting of the bullet ricocheting off the metal stairs were simultaneous.
‘Don’t move, stay where you are!’ The loud shout came from the open door; I knew who it was by the accent. I was right. Serife Aydin stood just inside the warehouse door holding a pistol with both hands that was pointing my way. A professional grip; aiming a pistol from that distance with one hand and the percentages were in favour of missing the target, with two hands the percentages favoured hitting it. As the target was me I did as I was told and raised my hands as an added reason for her not to shoot; I couldn’t see Gold but felt good that she was out there somewhere and would know what was going on. Above me those in the office had heard the shot, the office door banged open and Grant Rankin came out, pistol in hand. He took in the scene and turned the gun on me. He didn’t speak; he didn’t need to, he could see the situation from above.
Aydin shouted at me, ‘Put your weapons on the stair above you.’
I laid my AK-47 where she had said and raised my hands again as she came to the foot of the staircase, a few metres away from me.
‘I am not stupid. The gun as well, very slowly.’
It was worth a try. I took out my Beretta 92 slowly and placed it on the stair with the butt towards me so I’d be able to pick it up and fire it in one movement if I got the chance. Yes, I know it’s an old model automatic but I still rate it as a top pistol.
‘Put your hands behind your head, come down the stairs slowly and sit on the floor.’
That put an end to any thought of grabbing my pistol. I did as I was told.
The office door opened and Nicholas Rambart came out, followed by... Eve Rambart! What the...? I’d seen her shot and carted away in a carpet tube. I kept quiet as Rankin led them down the stairs. Then I noticed Eve Rambart was handcuffed.
‘Mr Nevis,’ Nicholas smiled at me. ‘You really are becoming a pain in the arse. I gave you one job to do and plainly you failed me.’ He waved a hand towards his wife. ‘She’s still alive.’
I took the plunge, hoping to confuse him. ‘I saw her shot. I saw her shot in the Knightsbridge apartment.’
Nicholas laughed. ‘No, Mr Nevis, you saw her tasered. You saw exactly what we wanted you to see.’
That shook me back a bit. ‘Wanted me to see?’
‘Yes, of course. You don’t think that your spy nest in the building opposite went unnoticed surely? That nasty incident on the landing with one of Woodward’s spooks set our alarm bells ringing; they obviously knew about the apartment and would be watching it – just a matter of finding where from. Didn’t take long, but we found you watching us from the building opposite, not Woodward. He must have picked us up on one of his many street cameras masquerading as a traffic sensor.’
‘Why
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