Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Spencer Crane took an alternative route down the opposite road. He planned to cut them off some distance away and he would personally see to it that the man who killed Darley ended up with a bullet between his eyes. With that thought he pushed the truck over 190 km/h.

Leon had reported saying that Nicholaus had been shot and it was less likely that he wasn't going to make it.

Damn it, Crane thought as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He was grinding his teeth now.

"Jesus! Who the fuck are these guys?" Lucas asked

"It seems we have met our match," Crane said with much menace.

He's ears caught a loud sound coming from the road that Leon took, the sound was later followed by the shrieking sound of metal.

"You think he got them?" Lucas asked

"Leon do you read me?" Crane held a radio in his left hand while he stirred with his right. " Leon? Leon! Goddamnit!"

Crane slammed the radio on the dashboard before turning left into a narrow road that opened up to the other road. His truck sped up and as he was about to enter the road a small blue car -which he instantly recognized as the Renault that the man had escaped in- came into his path. A startled black man who was sitting in the passenger seat stared into his blinding headlights with a startled expression, no doubt he was the man that killed Darley. The impact was unavoidable and he sent the car summersaulting in the air. The impact forced Crane to slump forward and hit his head on the steering wheel for a brief moment before he was jerked back up to see a door flying towards him, luckily the windshield took the hit cracking in the process.

Crane sighed in relief and looked across at Lucas who gave him a thumbs up showing he was good. Lucas had blood on the right side of his face. Crane felt his head aching and it seems he too was bleeding.

"Come on," he said to Lucas as he wedged his door open and stepped out into the open road. A hand full of cars had stopped and drivers had exited their vehicles to see the horrifying site of a blazing truck which Crane recognized and the car that was a pure wreck. It was still standing on the remainders of it's wheels but it was surrounded by a large body of black smoke that obscured his vision but not that much because he noticed the shadow moving towards the other side of the vehicle carrying another figure that looked feminine and was heading into an alleyway with three more shadows following behind.

The very fact that they were moving away from the people instead of toward them gave Crane the assurance that they had to be Harriet and the rest of the other targets.

His mind was screaming for him to follow them and end them all but Lucas placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"We better fall back for now," Lucas said softly but the anger in his words could not be hidden. Lucas was also hurting for the loss of his comrades and he wanted revenge as much as Crane but the number of people pouring out on the street was not something they could deal with so they both raced back to their truck. Crane was still behind the wheel and he put the gear in reverse and zoomed out using narrow roads, trying as much as possible to avoid incoming traffic. There was a large building up ahead that had a large screen high up so everyone could see and it showed a digital clock saying the time was 6:00pm. It was the digital gimmick of the London clock tower. The truck zoomed past it and headed for the shadows.

Crane had driven as far away from the city as possible and he was now parked in front of a bar with a neon sign that read 'REGGIE'S POT'.

"Weird name for a bar don't you think," Lucas stated as they got out of their truck.

Lucas had a point but he didn't need a bar with a fancy name of any sort, he just needed some place where he could lay low and dump the banged up truck since it would cause some suspicion when driving. They had driven for one whole hour and Crane was sure he had driven as far away as he could tonight.

"Come on," he beckoned for the last of his kin to follow him as he made his way past a line of five bikes and to the wooden Texas style doors that you often see in movies shot in the wild west. Pushing through them Crane was greeted by loud music. He looked around.

There was a group of bikers, five of them who had large bodies and distinct tattoos. They all wore black leather jackets with an imprint of a jackal's head surrounded by flames. Typical, Crane thought as he continued to inspect the place.

At the other corner of the room was a karaoke machine which probably was the source of the music and the place had classic round tables, chairs and two pool tables. It was a weekend so Crane wasn't surprised that the place was packed with people. He looked ahead and there was a long counter where three bartenders were busy delivering the required drinks. Behind them was a large shelf similar to those you would find in a wine cellar but only that these ones stored a variety of beers. Whiskey? Vodka? Scotch? You name it.

Crane proceeded towards the counter with Lucas behind him and he set himself on the barstool and beckoned for the bartender.

A-not-so-young-man came in their direction while holding two glass tumblers in one hand. He set them down in front of Crane and Lucas and said, " What can I get y'all"

He had a Texan accent and he looked at Crane with a keen eye.

Did he suspect something? Of course he did. He looked like a bat that went through hell and came out but after being used as a punching bag.

"Scotch please," Crane replied and looked at Lucas, "same for him"

The man stepped away for a few moments before returning to them with a glass bottle. He poured our drink into their glass cups and walked away.

"So what's our next move?" Lucas asked once the bartender was out of earshot. Bartenders are the type of people who overhear most of the craziest, cruelest and most scenical of plans yet they knew to keep out of other people's business.

Crane reached for his glass and downed the whole drink. He placed the glass back on the table softly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before replying. He beckoned for another and the same man came to refill his glass. When the man had finished Crane asked, " Do you have a phone I could use?"

The man pointed at the phone hanging on a wall just past the five bikers.

"How much to make a call?" he later asked

"Fifty cents," the man replied and stepped away from the two.

"Who are you calling?" Lucas asked

"The one's who will help us to the next move," Crane downed his drink in one go and then he kicked himself off the stool and made for the phone.

He could feel the five bikers gazing at his back as he pulled a fifty cents dime from his pocket and inserted it in the phone. He dialed the code to connect him to his handler.

The phone rang once before he picked up.

"We have a problem," Crane said in French.

Crane ended the call after receiving his instructions and he stepped past the bikers who were still eyeing him and for a second he thought one of them would stand to block his path. He relinquished that idea but to his disappointment that never happened. He approached Lucas and slapped a couple of hundred dollar bills on the counter.

"Let's move," he told Lucas as he spotted a man in a black suit walking sluggishly out the door.

Perfect, he thought and followed the man out.

The drunk man's hand fished for something in his pocket and successfully brought out his keys. They were dangling in his fingers when he stood in front of a silver 4×4 Range Rover that twinkled with the light coming from the neon sign.

It wouldn't take a fool to realize that this man was holding the keys to this car and Crane moved swiftly towards the man. Whole lazily looked at his fast stride but his brain was processing very slowly that by the time he moved, Crane had already held his face with his large hand and he slammed the back of his head on the side of the car door. The man slumped to the ground unconscious.

Crane looked around the parking lot for any signs of a possible witness. Lucas was the only one there.

Good.

He snatched the keys from the unconscious man and unlocked the car. He had probably saved the poor lass from a fatal accident, after all he was planning on driving drunk.

Crane had driven the car out of the parking lot and out on the open road but not before stripping the man of his clothes and leaving him lying naked in the bushes, that way if anyone found him they wouldn't take his stolen car seriously and would have assumed he'd just had too much to drink.