The Game (Tom Wood)

THIRTY-THREE





Rome

Forty-eight minutes after Victor had climbed into the limousine, Leeson directed him via the intercom to turn off the motorway. The signing for Rome was obvious, even for someone who couldn’t read Italian, but Leeson offered the instruction before Victor had to decide how far to push his supposed ignorance. The SUV turned off too. So did both cars that followed between the limousine and the SUV. But at a traffic island they took different exits. Only the SUV remained.

It was closer now and in the glow of streetlights Victor saw it was a big Jeep Commander driven by a man with a passenger at his side. He couldn’t make out many details but the driver was taller and broader than the passenger, although not hugely so. Like Dietrich was to Coughlin. Maybe Jaeger was in the back. The Commander had plenty of room to accommodate him comfortably. The whole team together.

Except Victor.

‘Second right,’ Leeson said, the intercom light disappearing as soon as the words had been spoken.

A minute later: ‘You just missed the turning, Mr Kooi.’

‘My apologies,’ Victor replied. ‘I’ll take the next one.’

He did. The Jeep did too.

‘How’s your hunger level now?’ Leeson said.

‘Building.’

‘Take a left at the end of the block,’ Leeson said. ‘And please try not to miss it.’

Victor drove down narrow streets alive with light and colour. Glowing signs advertised bars and restaurants. The pavements were packed with tourists and natives alike, all out to make the most of life. There were couples and groups of friends of all ages and races. They joked and laughed as they walked by open-fronted establishments bustling with people. No outside table was unoccupied. Victor drove slowly, not because of traffic or pedestrians crossing back and forth, but because the Jeep was no longer following. He hadn’t tried to lose it. He had simply taken a turning and it hadn’t.

Maybe Leeson had told them to back off to avoid being spotted. Maybe.

The partition window slid open and Victor saw Leeson’s face in the mirror.

‘Second right and we’re there,’ Leeson said, and checked his watch yet again.

They weren’t running late. There was still ten minutes left to meet the reservation at the restaurant, which would be close by. Leeson wouldn’t have the limousine parked a significant distance from his destination. There was no point in paying for armour plating only to walk unprotected for half a mile to reach it. They were close to the restaurant and not pushed for time. If Leeson was obsessed with punctuality Victor would have seen it before now. Perhaps there was another deadline to meet that Victor didn’t know about.

He saw their destination as soon as he had taken the turning. Fifty metres ahead a giant sign advertised a multi-storey parking garage.

‘I wouldn’t park here,’ Victor said as they approached the entrance.

‘Why ever not?’

‘These places are full of blind spots.’

‘Mr Kooi, you’re sitting behind the best bulletproof armour money can buy. I can assure you there is nothing to be scared of.’

‘There’s no such thing as bulletproof.’

‘Regardless, there is no reason to be concerned.’

‘I take it you plan on leaving the vehicle?’

‘Of course,’ Leeson replied. ‘And that’s why I have you.’

‘I’m unarmed.’

‘Then you can point out who I need to shoot at.’ When Victor didn’t smile, Leeson said, ‘I don’t think we need to be overly cautious. Rome is a reassuringly safe city. Besides, we can’t leave the Rolls on the street, even if we could find a parking space big enough. I don’t want some delinquent keying it. The have-nots always despise the haves for working harder than they do.’

‘I strongly suggest you reconsider.’

‘Your advice has been noted, Mr Kooi, and I’m ignoring it. Now find somewhere to park.’

Victor buzzed down the driver’s window to take a ticket. The barrier opened and he drove through.



At six metres in length the Phantom required two parking spaces back to back, which proved impossible to find on the first four levels. Victor drove slower than he needed, gaze continuously sweeping the area, half expecting to see the Jeep parked in some corner where it would be missed by a casual glance. It wasn’t there. But it wouldn’t be far. It hadn’t followed them closely all the way to Rome to leave them alone now they’d arrived.

The only level with room to park the limousine was the roof. It was less than a third full, with cars scattered across its space, but concentrated at a slightly higher density near the entrance and exit ramps. Victor selected a spot away from both, but where he could see the entrance ramp and the door to the stairwell when he parked. A corridor of empty parking spaces lay directly between Victor and the exit ramp, some twenty metres away. He applied the handbrake and turned off the engine.

He sat for a moment in the seat, watching the entry ramp, waiting for the Jeep to appear. The roof would be a good place for an ambush. There were no pillars for an assailant to hide behind and fewer cars to provide concealment, but once out of the car there was no protection for its passengers and nowhere to go. But while in the limousine any attack would be doomed to failure. Those carrying out the assault would need a large calibre machine gun or RPG to get through the armour plating, and Leeson was inside as a human shield. But once Victor stepped outside the vehicle everything would change. He didn’t park close to the ramps because he wanted to see them coming before it was too late.

‘Keys,’ Leeson said.

Victor slid the key out of the ignition and held the ring through the partition window for Leeson to take. Leeson reached out his hand and Victor watched the younger man’s gaze drop to the keys.

‘Let me get out of the car first,’ Victor said.

Leeson’s eyes angled upwards to meet Victor’s in the mirror and he swept the keys out of Victor’s hand without looking at them. ‘Of course you get out of the car first,’ Leeson said with a hint of incredulousness in his voice. ‘How do you open my door otherwise?’

When the keys were in Leeson’s pocket, Victor opened the driver’s door and stepped out. The night air was warm. He heard traffic and faint music. He kept his gaze on the entry ramp as he held open the rearmost cabin door.

‘Tell me,’ Leeson said as he glanced at the entrance to the stairwell, ‘what is the point in arriving in luxury if one has then to walk further than necessary?’

‘Having legs is a luxury.’

Leeson nodded as though he was genuinely considering the point, then asked, ‘Hungry yet?’

‘I can eat,’ Victor said.

‘Fabulous. Do you like Japanese food?’

‘Who doesn’t?’

Leeson gestured towards the exit. ‘Then you’ll love where we’re going. I think it’s the only one in the city. Italian cuisine is indeed divine, but Italians would do well to diversify their tastes a little. I recommend the katsu curry if your palate can handle a bit of fire.’

Victor walked a little way ahead, as Leeson expected, and kept the door in his line of sight as he glanced at the overlooking buildings, picturing Coughlin at a window or on a roof, peering down the scope of his rifle as he had watched Victor on the wasteland in Budapest.

He motioned for Leeson to stop about three metres from the door. Victor opened it, peered inside to check there were no surprises, then ushered Leeson through.

‘Elevator or stairs?’ Leeson asked.

‘Always stairs.’

‘Making use of the luxury of having legs, I take it?’

‘You need to be alive to make use of them.’

Leeson looked at him with a little smile as he processed the point. ‘I have to say, Mr Kooi, I’m impressed with your level of caution. Neither Mr Dietrich nor Mr Coughlin has expressed anything close to the same level of awareness to security.’

‘And Jaeger?’

Leeson looked at him. ‘I would imagine that it is the world that needs to be cautious of him. Not the other way around.’

‘No talking as we descend,’ Victor said, then added when Leeson raised his eyebrows in confusion, ‘our voices will echo in the stairwell and carry further. Any threat will be able to pinpoint our location with a higher degree of accuracy than with footsteps alone. Plus, if we’re speaking it will be harder to hear any threats in return.’

He wasn’t expecting threats. He wanted to listen out for the rumble of a big SUV’s exhaust on one of the levels they passed.

‘It’s comforting to know you are at my side, Mr Kooi,’ Leeson said, and checked his watch.

In return, Victor would take comfort in knowing where Dietrich, Jaeger and Coughlin were, and more importantly, what they were doing there.

‘Worried we’ll be late?’

The younger man looked up and met his gaze. He shook his head as if the fear of tardiness was the very last thing that would ever occupy his thoughts.

They descended the stairs with Victor leading. Leeson followed half a flight behind. Their shoes clattered on the concrete steps and echoed in the stairwell. The exit opened out onto the ground floor of the parking garage, next to the automated ticket machine. The level was bright with fluorescent lights, reducing the shadows to blurred outlines around cars and pillars.

‘How far is the restaurant?’ Victor asked as his gaze roamed their surroundings.

‘Not far,’ Leeson answered. ‘A couple of minutes maximum.’

Outside they turned left. Victor walked alongside Leeson as would a well-trained bodyguard. If he walked ahead he could better handle threats from the front, but would be useless at any originating from behind Leeson. The reverse was true if he walked behind. Next to Leeson provided the best compromise. He could also shove him to the ground or behind cover if necessary. Victor wasn’t a bodyguard, he wasn’t guarding Leeson against potential threats, but he wanted him to think he was.

The street was relatively quiet, with intermittent passing cars and a steady but light flow of pedestrians. Opposite the parking garage was a line of stores, all closed for the night so those on foot had no reason to use the street as anything other than a thoroughfare. Except a man standing on the corner up ahead. He stood on the opposite side of the road, outside the glow of a streetlamp that silhouetted him and hid his features. His height and build was a match for Dietrich.

Victor glanced over his shoulder, searching for sign of Coughlin or Jaeger, but saw no one. Leeson did not react, but Victor wouldn’t have expected him to. The silhouetted man was about thirty metres away. As they neared he turned around and stepped through the light, and Victor saw a knitted hat covering the back of the man’s head, a black leather jacket, stonewashed jeans and thick-soled boots, but no recognisable features. By the time Victor was twenty metres away the man had rounded the corner.

Leeson glanced Victor’s way. ‘I’m looking forward to this.’

‘And me,’ Victor said.