Chapter - 10

George Miles was having a hectic schedule in his foreign mission, his target was mostly in motion, yet the mission wasn't complete. Some of his friends had picked him from the airport; they were also private detectives; they were operating beneath a local pub run by them itself. They all were working in collaboration with a major agency that funded them; and so helped each other in times of need. George was given access to all their primary assets, i.e. tracking devices, vehicles, etc. George was now in a supermarket, because his target was also in a supermarket. George stood in the line, two persons behind his target. One among the two in front of him moved away from the line, George stepped forward. His target placed an identity proof on the table; George stretched his neck a bit and read, Axel Andrews. Not that George was unaware of the target's name and details, just an overlook. After billing his items, George continued following his target, now headed towards the car park. Axel got into a Mercedes while George slipped into his Volkswagen, he continued following Axel at a safe distance. Axel was not the first person he was following, but Axel was the first person who was tiring him out, he was waiting for the moment. And also he had to watch out for people who might follow him too. Axel stopped outside a pub, locking the car he went inside. George also stopped outside the pub Axel also had stopped at. He was walking towards the entrance when he felt a presence behind him, he quickly turned around and found no one, he took two more steps when he had that feeling again, he but continued walking but at the same time pulled out his phone and opened the front camera. The follower might've guessed it, because he found no one this time too. He walked further inside the pub was full regardless the time was four in the morning. He looked around for Axel, and finally found the pervert sitting at a table drinking. George sat some tables away; he started texting his colleagues on his target's movements, position and status so far. He was texting still when he just saw Axel rise from his seat and walk away, George also stood but stopped in his tracks as he saw another man join Axel; they walked towards the rooms. George slowly followed; the two men entered a room and closed the door. George waited till they got out; he had a feeling the moment was dawning. As he thought, the other man alone exited the room after five straight minutes, before the man noticed and the door closed, George was inside. Gun pointed at Axel's skull, George closed the door with his leg, and he delivered a blow at Axel's face with the butt of the gun. Axel fell onto the bed, George took from his pocket the thick rope he had kept and strapped Axel against the chair there. He waited till Axel could process things and then put his first dialogue;

“What is German police chief, Axel, doing on the streets of Canada with a fake identity?"

“Who are you to ask that,” Axel shot back, “why is that any of your concern?”

“I'm somebody, and that is not the answer to my question. What are you doing here?”

Axel replied nothing, George pulled out a small paper, the paper contained the call details of Axel over the past week, and three numbers were highlighted in those. He showed it to Axel and continued speaking, “These numbers, you've called in them continually. I want you tell me everything you spoke over the phone. Don't try lying, because these three numbers are used by three different terrorists.”

“Great job, but, I'm not telling you anything you bloody swindler. Find it yourself.”

George smiled, he pulled out his pocket knife and started making small cuts on Axel's fingertips, he began to swear and scream; but instead of a cloth, George took his gun and put it into the mouth, fingers on the trigger, “This gun is not going to announce your death, and so you better speak. I've got other matters to look into, bloody swindler.”

George undid the masking tape for him to speak;

"I've been sent to deliver funds for these groups. I contacted them and handed them the funds. I'm returning tomorrow, I know nothing else other than that. Trust me.”

“Who send you?” “Cepher…..Cepher Cohen, MD of JC Bank, Germany.”

George put the tape back in place, hauled out his gun from the hostler again, took a pillow from the bed and placed it between the gun and Axel's skull. Muttering a short prayer, George fired, but the pillow made sure no sound came out. George put the pillow back on the bed and left the room while the fired bullet slowly stationed itself in Axel's brain.