Stone-Cold Vengeance: A Covert Action Thriller by Peter Dunfield

Author:Peter Dunfield [Dunfield, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780228891543
Publisher: Peter B. Dunfield
Published: 2023-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Stevens exited the consulate and rushed toward the garage. He kept glancing over his shoulder as if someone might be watching him.

“There he is,” I said. “And he looks paranoid.”

Jimmy and I slid low in our seats so Stevens wouldn’t see us. I caught a glimpse of him in the side mirrors as he rushed by on the way to his car.

He beeped open the door locks on the Mercedes and climbed in.

I waited for the sound of his car engine to fire up, but it didn’t come as expected. After a long pause, I poked my head up and looked out the window. Instead of leaving right away, he was just sitting in the driver’s seat, holding his head in his hands.

I slid back down and whispered, “What’s he doing? He’s just sitting there like he’s in a coma or something.”

“My guess is that call from his man, Martinez, rattled him, and he’s trying to figure out his next move.”

Jimmy put on the headphones and pointed the parabolic listening device toward the Mercedes. I took another look. It appeared like Stevens was waiting for something or someone. But then he leaned sideways over the passenger seat and vanished for a second. When he sat up straight again, he rubbed his nose and shook his head. Stevens repeated this movement several times. Every time he sat upright, he shook his head and wiped his nose again.

“What the hell is he doing?” I whispered.

The Mercedes’ engine suddenly roared to life. We both ducked out of sight below the windows as he slowly drove past us and down to the exit. I turned the ignition key, and… nothing happened. The engine kept turning over but not firing.

“Oh, come on. You lousy piece of shit.” I pumped the gas pedal and turned the key again. The engine sputtered and coughed a dark cloud of smoke from the rear.

Stevens’ silver Mercedes turned right on the street below us and merged into the traffic. I jammed the Jeep into gear and took off after him. The squeals of our tires echoed as I wound down the ramp to the exit. Jimmy handed me some coins for the parking toll. I almost took out the gate when it took its time rising out of the way. I pulled into the light traffic and raced up the street. We caught up to Stevens two blocks from the garage, and I slowed my pursuit to not draw attention to us following him.

I glanced at Jimmy. “What the hell was he doing back there?”

“It sounded like a lot of sniffing going on.”

“Do you think he was snorting cocaine? It sure looked like it, the way he kept rubbing his nose every time he sat up,” I said, maneuvering the Jeep through the slower vehicles to keep pace with the Mercedes.

“Good observation. If he’s doing coke regularly, it might explain some of his behavior and why he looked paranoid as he left the consulate.”

Stevens worked his way through the late afternoon traffic and out of the city.

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