Was it just another surveillance job - Episode 7

-
I'm back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.

The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I'm not very good at prioritising.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn't take long to get back into the groove.

A body and a whole bunch of questions.


A full minute passed, with only one car passing, the rest of the time there was a strange sort of silence.
The man on the ground didn’t move.  Whoever shot him had shot to kill.  I took the few steps to stand beside him and could see the hole and the bloodstain of the wound.  Shot in the heart, instant death.
Usually, if it was a sniper, it was a head shot.  Less chance of missing a vital organ and leaving the target alive.
Odd too that it was just before he told me where some ‘evidence’ was located.  And who the hell was this Alfred Nobbin?
I heard a car turn into the alley and come towards me.  Halfway, it stopped, the engine switched off, and the doors opened.
Two men.  Maury, my handler, and Severin, the instructor.  Neither was carrying a gun, so neither had shot him.  That meant someone else was still in play.
I said, “I had him, but someone shot him.”
Stating the obvious, Maury’s expression told me.
“You’re not dead.”
“Perhaps I wasn’t a target.”
“Today.  Did he say who he was?”
“No.”
No hesitation or they’ll think I’m lying, which I am.  I was not sure why, but was it because I detected a note of sincerity in the target’s tone?
“Checked for identification yet?”
“Just about to.”  I knelt down and went through his pockets.  Nothing.  I told Maury that.
“Pity.”  He hadn’t moved from where he stopped.  Severin had been looking back up the alley, no doubt looking for where the bullet came from.
Had he reached the same conclusion I had, a balcony on the third floor of the left-hand building.  The shooter would be long gone by now.
A white van pulled into the lane and pulled up behind Maury’s car.  The cleaners.
It raided questions.  How did Maury know we’d be here, and that the target would be shot dead?  Or had he assumed I’d all but kill him in revenge for what had happened to the others.
What had happened to the others?
“The rest of the team,” I asked.
“Two dead, one critical.  One safe.  Let’s go.  We need to have a debriefing.”
I took a last look at the body, the joined Maury and Severin in the car.  I had questions of my own.
“A bad day’s work,” Severin muttered, as he drove off.
“But conclusive proof we have a traitor, the last thing we need right now.”

I was surprised they were discussing high-level matters that I considered above my pay grade.  And, I had to say, it worried me.


© Charles Heath 2019

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I've always wanted to go on a Treasure Hunt - Part 32

-
Here’s the thing... Every time I close my eyes, I see something different. I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox. But these dreams are nothing to laugh about. Once again there's a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt. The scene was set. Boggs and I had been browbeaten, and he had, willingly he said, given up the real map.  I was beginning to think Boggs had no idea what the real map was, there were so many different variations of it. Vince was on the warpath. Nadia was muddying the waters. The Benderby’s were being their usual menacing selves. A man had been killed and finished up being on Rico’s boat, and Rico had been arrested.  Had Benderby put it there, or was Rico the perpetrator?     Rico wanted the map for the Benderby’s but hadn’t got it from Boggs, which given how menacing he was, should have been a no brainer. Unless he really cared ab
Read more

Being inspired, maybe – 57

-
Image
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like.  For instance: And, then, the words: I had a lot to think about. It was one of the main reasons why I chose a relatively remote resort to get away from the pressures and distractions of everyday life. You see, I just got made redundant from a job that I thought was mine for life, and with it came a litany of platitudes and half-truths and downright lies from a hatchet man, rather than the person who should have faced me. The point is, the owner of the company I worked for was someone I had respected.  We had started out together, not as partners, but as close to having a partnership as was possible. My only problem at the time was I didn't have the money to put up, so we had an agreement. An agreement, it appears, that was not worth anything because it was not in writing.  It had been a verbal agreement on a handshake, at a time when that meant something. Now, apparently, it didn't. There was of
Read more

Being inspired, maybe – 58

-
Image
A picture paints ... well, as many words as you like.  For instance: And, then, the words: Get me to the church on time.  It was a tune out of My Fair Lady and it was in my head the moment I woke up that morning. And this day was, to quote some immortals line, supposed to be the happiest day of my life. But, somehow it didn't feel like that, and lying under the warm covers of my own bed, perhaps for the last time at my parent’s home, the last place I thought I'd find myself, I began to consider how it was I had ended up in this situation. It was not a question of who the bride was, we had been friends from an early age and used to joke about getting married, but at the age of six or seven, that was a concept rather than something we might act on in the future. Except that was how it panned out. But not for the reasons one might think would lead to such an eventuality. Yes, we were close friends till the early teens, then my family went in once direction
Read more