Death Run - Justin Richards

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to, Guvnor?” he asked in a mock Cockney accent.

      “Don’t overdo it, Dex,” Chance said. Dex Halford was an old friend from his SAS days – the two of them had worked together more times than either cared to remember. “They let you drive with just one leg, do they?”

      Halford gave a short laugh and slapped his leg. It was false from below the knee. “Car’s automatic,” he told Chance. “Though sadly I still have to be here.”

      “Yes, well, I think it’s time you weren’t.”

      “Problems?”

      Chance shook his head. “Piece of cake. But tell Ardman that from now on I really am on holiday. If he wants anything else doing he can—” His words were drowned out by the strident sound of alarm bells from inside the casino.

      “Enjoy the death run,” he shouted over the noise. Chance saw sudden fear and anxiety in the eyes of the small man in the back seat. “Don’t worry – that’s what we call this. When you get whisked away to a new life, a new identity. When you disappear for ever. The death run.”

      “I’ll take good care of you, no fear,” Halford told to the man. “Say hi to the family,” he told Chance.

      Chance slapped his hand on the roof of the car as Halford closed the window. The car screeched away and headed off into the night.

      Chance watched the tail lights disappear into the darkness. Then he turned to the casino. The big Scotsman, Bannock, was on the steps looking round in fury and confusion. Behind him, Chance could see men in suits running back and forth. A woman with long auburn hair wearing a pale blue evening dress sipped her champagne and watched it all with amusement. For a moment her startling blue eyes locked with Chance’s. But he wasn’t interested.

      He looked up at a window at the side of the casino. The window next to his own bedroom. Curtains billowed out over the balcony and two young faces looked down at him – both blond, a boy and a girl. They didn’t look pleased.

      Chance headed quickly back into the casino, walking confidently through the noise and confusion towards the stairs up into the hotel. He clicked off the jammer in his pocket and smiled at a man shouting urgently into a radio.

      “Now for the tricky bit,” Chance murmured.

       1

      It was hot and humid in Venice in the last week of August. One canal looked pretty much like another to Jade; one church looked pretty much like another; and the whole place smelled old and damp. It was probably better than hanging around in London with nothing to do till school started again, but if she had to eat any more pasta or ice cream, Jade reckoned there would be serious trouble.

      As usual, it was difficult to know what Dad thought of it all. But since he’d brought them here he was presumably enjoying himself. They stayed in a small family-run hotel close to the Grand Canal. It amused Jade that the bar closed at nine in the evening and if Dad wanted a drink after that, he had to find the night porter.

      Rich seemed to be enjoying himself. He greeted every new street or stretch of water, every café and old building with excitement. “Have you seen this?” he exclaimed with interest as they turned into a small square close to the canal.

      “Oh yeah, look,” Jade muttered back. “Another church. Well, who’d have thought.” But she had to smile at his enthusiasm.

      “Yeah, but they’re all different,” Rich told her. “I mean, talk about paintings.”

      “You do that a lot,” she pointed out.

      “Only takes a few minutes to look round,” Dad said. “We should do it while we’re here.”

      “I suppose.”

      There was a small café opposite. Dad suggested they take a look in the church, then stop for a drink.

      She didn’t like to admit it, but Jade found it refreshingly cool inside the church. There were indeed paintings – several small icons and an ornamental screen. The paintings were dark with age, but Rich was fascinated.

      “Are we having fun yet?” Dad said quietly to Jade.

      “I suppose,” she admitted.

      “I’ll take that as a yes then.” He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

      “It’s fine, Dad. Great. Church, paintings, everything.” Jade’s smile widened into a grin. “Can we go now?”

      They were getting towards the end of their stay in Venice and Jade had found herself relaxing into the slow pace of the holiday. Perhaps she was adapting to the ways of the city. Or perhaps it was the heat. But by their last couple of days, Jade was as happy as her brother and father to sit outside the small café and let the day go by.

      “I think that woman is following us,” Rich said quietly as he drank his Coke. Jade was on mineral water, while Dad had an espresso that was like syrup.

      “Describe her,” Dad said at once, not looking round. Jade glanced where Rich was looking, then away again, pretending to be admiring the small square they were in. It was just like a hundred other small squares they’d been to.

      “Tall, slim. Smartly dressed. Long hair that’s a sort of auburn colour. I’m sure the same woman was a couple of tables away from us at dinner last night.”

      Dad frowned. “Sounds like a woman I noticed the other day in the casino.”

      “So you were in the casino?” Jade said.

      “I mean the hotel. At the casino. I told you – I heard the alarms and nipped down to see what was happening.”

      “Climbing out the window and down the wall?” Jade pointed out.

      Dad shrugged. “Force of habit. Anyway, it was a lot of fuss about nothing. False alarm or something. And it’s probably a completely different woman. Just a coincidence.”

      “What if it isn’t?” Rich asked. “What if she’s… I don’t know, an agent or something?”

      Jade laughed at that. “More likely she’s a tourist. If we go to the obvious boring touristy places, we’re going to see some of the same obvious boring tourists, aren’t we?”

      Dad drained his coffee and pushed a couple of bank notes under the saucer to pay the bill. “Easy enough to find out.”

      “So what’s the plan?” Jade asked.

      “You’re complaining you’re bored, Jade – what do you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?”

      “Not churches,” Jade said at once. “There was that little street of decent shops you wouldn’t let us stop at yesterday.”

      “Because we’re here on holiday not to buy new trainers and T-shirts,” Rich reminded them.

      “OK,” Dad said. “And you, Rich?”

      “I’m happy to wander. Browse the shops a bit. We splitting up?”

      Dad nodded. “We’ll see if she follows any of us. I’ll go first and double back round so I can follow her.”

      “Sneaky,” Rich said. “But what if she follows you?”

      “She won’t. She won’t realise I’m leaving.” As he spoke, Dad stood up. “Meet back here in an hour, OK?”

      “OK,” they both agreed.

      Dad walked slowly, almost lazily into the café. Jade risked another quick look at the woman. She was reading a book, maybe a guide book – a small paperback. She didn’t seem to have reacted to Dad leaving the table. But then she was probably expecting him to come back and for all three of them to leave together.

      “You really think she’s following

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