Читать книгу Legacy - Jeff Edwards - Страница 11

Bree and Sam returned to the city to find the cleaners packing up their equipment. The steam cleaners had performed minor miracles on the shop. The paint was still faded and peeling but the cobwebs were gone, and so were the signs of vermin.

With a bit of care the place could almost be habitable.

Bree rang the furniture rental store and arranged for delivery that afternoon. In the meantime she and Sam returned to their homes and picked up whatever personal items they would require. The lack of ample hanging space forced Bree to make some difficult decisions regarding wardrobe selection. She opted for the university look and restricted herself accordingly.

Sam threw into a case whatever was clean and came readily to hand. However, he took his time over the more important item of gun selection.

A small attaché case containing a dismantled sniper rifle and telescopic sights was placed carefully beside his clothes case. Ammunition and his favourite target pistol were collected from his private metal case at the gun club, as well as a small Beretta automatic: ideal for wearing under normal clothing without producing tell-tale lumps.

Bree adopted a more ladylike approach, selecting a silver plated automatic so small it could fit into the smallest purse. Its effective range was not very far, but Bree considered it to be a deterrent rather than an offensive weapon.

On the other hand, her small attaché case contained a hand-held rocket launcher. If she had to make a bang, then she preferred to make a big one. Accuracy was all very well if you had time to aim, but if you were in trouble a big bang was more likely to get the other side to put their heads down long enough for you to escape.

Together, they had enough firepower to handle most close-quarters situations. Pitched battles were for army regiments, not two man incursion units.

The furniture arrived and filled the shop’s empty spaces. There were desks and chairs behind the counter for the non-existent staff, and the office now had a desk and filing cabinets suitable for the director of a small business. Not the most elegant furniture, but functional. They didn’t want the Save the Country Fund to look like it had too much money.

Sam made a hole in the wall behind the refrigerator. Inserting their weapons, he covered the hole and sealed the edges with tape before pushing the refrigerator back into place. It was not the most secure hiding place but would have to suffice for the present.

‘We’ll restrict all our secure documents to the upstairs area and keep the door at the top of the stairs locked,’ said Sam. ‘The shop will have to look like a wilderness fund in case someone comes in to look around.’

‘How are we going to do that?’

‘I’m not sure,’ shrugged Sam. ‘Let’s go and see what an environmental fund looks like.’

They toured the immediate area, calling into numerous charity offices. They picked up publicity posters from some, stole handfuls of pamphlets from another, and even bought stickers and fridge magnets from a third.

Returning to the shop, they proceeded to decorate their space with the purloined property, hoping that no one would come in and ask why they had Save the Rainforest posters alongside pamphlets decrying the culling of harp seals.

A true eco-lover would have had a very hard time discerning just what this particular fund represented.

‘If we get some spare time I’ll type up some pamphlets with our name on them.’

‘What will you say in a pamphlet?’ asked Sam.

‘I’ll get some of the others and just reword them a bit.’

‘Sounds like a plan to me.’

The sitting room became their workshop. All documents pertaining to Jade Green were sorted into piles according to topics. Telephone records in one, photos in another and background information on friends and acquaintances taking up most of the space.

They started to sift through the information to see if they could decipher a possible lead as to where she may have hidden the videos.

It looked to the agents that it would take a very long time and they settled in to make themselves comfortable.

‘Where’s the nearest Chinese take-away?’ asked Bree.

‘There’s one down the street.’

‘Should we start a tab there?’

‘Unless you’re feeling domestic, I think we’ll be starting accounts in a lot of the local restaurants.’

‘Thank God for government funding.’

That evening, their first as residents of the shop, Bree lay in her bed and reflected on the next few months that she would be spending shoulder to shoulder with Sam.

This was not the first time they had been thrown together for long periods. It was part of the job and they had both had to come to terms with their emotions.

Bree recalled the first time they had been sent on assignment together. It had been to act as undercover observers in a small African country that had recently been granted a large sum of money from the World Bank. Supposedly, the money was to be used to drag the population back from the brink of poverty.

The reality had been that the country’s ‘president for life’ now possessed a new motor yacht, which he immediately took for a cruise to Monte Carlo. There, to the joy of the casino personnel, he lost vast sums on the gambling tables. He also frequented the local brothels and toured the town with several of these women as constant companions.

The agents had followed the fun-loving president from his lavish palace to Monaco, then Nice, and finally Cannes, before he finally ran out of money, whereupon he sailed back home to wring more taxes from his poor, benighted citizens.

It was at this point that Bree and Sam returned to headquarters, reporting that the World Bank had wasted its time and money.

During their whole time together, Sam had been the perfect gentleman. Bree could see he was interested in her as a woman but, like the boy scout that he was, he kept his hands and thoughts to himself. Bree found it most infuriating.

She knew he wanted to say something, but his self-control was complete.

Bree was more than willing to indulge their more carnal desires. Sam was a very handsome man, with a hard, muscular body from constant exercise, and a warped sense of humour that appealed to her. The idea of spending the night in his arms did not scare her in the least. If only he would get over his reticence and make the first move.

Much to her disappointment, the invitation was never issued and they parted company after their debriefing.

A second assignment, a couple of weeks later, was completed with the same result.

This time, the strain was beginning to show. Sam was withdrawn and testy. Bree tried to draw him out but the more she tried to flirt with him, the more he withdrew from her. It began to affect their work.

They finished the assignment barely on speaking terms.

Their superiors were totally unsatisfied with their report and made the pair know of their displeasure in no uncertain terms.

Chastised, they retreated to their separate homes to lick their wounds alone.

Bree slammed her front door behind her. It was all too much.

She strode around her apartment, lashing out at the furniture, pretending to dust, while making plans. Something had to be done and if Sam wouldn’t make the first move, then it was up to her.

Bree felt better for having come to a decision. She picked up her phone and dialed Sam’s number. He wasn’t home, so she left a message on his answering machine.

‘We have to talk. I’ve made a booking at the Four Seasons for seven pm. Make sure you’re there on time.’

Sam had spent his time at the gym, sweating out his misery. He had pounded his body to the limit and still not been able to rid himself of the malaise that clouded his mind.

He had moved from the gym to the gun club, where he had murdered numerous targets and still felt no better.

As he drove home, he realised there was only one thing for him to do. He had to ask his superiors to be assigned another partner. Preferably a male partner. That way there would be no more complications.

When he arrived home, Bree’s message was on the machine.

Sam listened and nodded.

Yes. Tonight at dinner would be the best time to break the news to her.

Sam arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before the allotted time and, as their table was not ready, he was directed to the bar. He perched with a drink in his hand and studied the other diners.

Except for a table of tourists, the entire restaurant consisted of couples. They looked into the eyes of their companions as they ate their meals. All were oblivious to what was happening around them. He envied them. With Bree no longer his partner, perhaps he would be free to think of her as more than a business associate.

Her arrival roused him from his reverie.

She saw him at the bar and waved, smiling.

If the men in the restaurant had been paying attention to their companions before, then the spell was suddenly broken by the woman walking towards Sam.

The men turned to watch Bree, and well they should!

Her red dress was skin tight over her well muscled body. The hem slashed high showed her long legs to the full, and the neck-line dropped almost to her navel revealing wide expanses of her chest, accentuating her full breasts. Sam had never seen her look more desirable. As she drew closer, the scent of her perfume reached out to him.

Bree smiled at the look of awe on his face.

‘Got you,’ she thought. ‘Now to reel you in.’

They ordered a small entrée of seafood pieces, followed by a dinner of lamb and salad, accompanied by a bottle of Bree’s favourite chablis.

‘What did you want to talk about?’ asked Sam.

‘There’s no rush. I’ll get around to it later. What did you want to talk about?’

Sam cleared his throat, trying to collect his thoughts. ‘I was thinking. Our assignment didn’t go well. Perhaps we may have to do something.’

‘Like what?’

Sam took a sip of his drink. ‘I thought it might be for the best if we asked to be assigned different partners.’

Bree didn’t react, which surprised Sam. Instead, she regarded him over the lip of her glass as she took a sip.

Finally, she said. ‘Do you think that’s the way to solve the problem?’

‘I think we’d both work better apart.’

Bree nodded. ‘Perhaps.’

‘Then you agree? We’ll ask to be reassigned.’

‘If no other solution presents itself,’ she smiled.

Sam couldn’t believe how well she was taking it. He had expected her to put forward some sort of objection to them being separated. Now he was feeling unsure of himself. Did she want to get rid of him? Is that what she had wanted to tell him?

They ate their main course in relative silence. Sam attempted to make small-talk but Bree simply smiled at him and gave some simple answer that cut further discussion of the topic in question.

After the waiter had cleared their dishes and brought the desert menu Bree excused herself.

‘I’m just going to check my make-up. I’ll be back in a second.’

Sam watched her walk towards the ladies’ toilet. So did most of the other men in the room, much to their partners’ disgust.

When Bree returned she stood behind Sam’s chair and placed both hands on his shoulders. Bending down, she surprised him by kissing him lightly on the cheek while pushing something into the top pocket of his jacket.

Returning to her seat, she casually raised her menu and scanned the list of sweets on offer.

Sam reached into his top pocket to find out what she had placed there.

He pulled out a ball of silk and began to unroll it.

Suddenly he realised he was holding the briefest pair of women’s underwear in his hand. Bree’s underwear.

He blushed and hastily shoved the item back into his pocket. Bree was still studying the menu.

‘What?’ he mumbled.

Bree kept her eyes on the menu.

‘You can have what’s on the menu for dessert or you can take me home and have what you really want. What’s it to be?’

She raised her eyes and smiled over the top of the menu.

Sam was unable to believe his good luck.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Pay the bill and let’s get out of here. I feel a draught.’

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Sam signalled for the waiter to bring their bill and hastily paid by dumping a pile of notes on the tray. There was no time to worry about using his credit card. He was going to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Bree sat close beside him as they drove home, her hand trailing up and down his leg as he attempted to change gears and made a mess of it.

She led him to her apartment and handed him her keys. Sam unlocked the door and stood aside to allow her to enter.

He followed and closed the door. Bree moved into his arms.

Locked in a deep kiss, they rapidly stripped the clothes from each other. Sam had little to do, as Bree had little left to remove. She tore at his clothes until he was naked and they fell on to her lounge.

Their love-making was fast and furious. Each sought to relieve the pent-up emotions they had for so long been denying themselves.

Exploding with joy, they climaxed together and collapsed into each others arms.

Later they retreated hand in hand to her bedroom where they explored each other’s body before making love again, much slower this time, and far more enjoyable.

There was no further talk about changing partners.

Lying in her bed above the shop, Bree realised that the first night of their tenancy was an occasion that should be remembered and celebrated.

Rising from her bed, she stripped, brushed her hair and sprayed herself with a subtle cologne.

She walked naked down the hallway and opened Sam’s door.

‘Move over,’ she said.

‘I thought you’d never get here,’ laughed Sam.