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Short pros fic
Jan. 13th, 2023 10:38 amTHE CHRISTMAS KILLER - DENNIS SPOONER
Bodie and Doyle stood outside Harrods in Knightsbridge. Christmas was really in the air.The windows were packed with decorations and lights shone out into the growing gloom of the afternoon.
It looked like it was going to snow again. Nice for the kids, but the adults - their clouded breath billowing on the cold air - had only one thing in mind, to complete their shopping and get back home.
Bodie and Doyle stood for a while before going into the store, their eyes examining the faces around them.Although they had the photograph of Ramos etched into their brains they did not pretend to understand why. What would a top international assassin like Ramos be doing at Harrods? His Christmas shopping? Yet Cowley had been quite specific.
"We know he's in the country and we've got a pretty good idea why," Cowly had said. "The biggest manhunt ever staged is going on, and every available CI5 agent is on the case as of now."
Then Cowley had taken them aside and given them their assignment, Harrods.
It didn't make sense to either Bodie or Doyle. But "The Cow" hadn't said anything else, and when he didn't say - you didn't ask!
Ramos lay on the bed in the Knightsbridge apartment that had been found for him. It was getting dark outside and as he stared at the window he realise it somehow made him feel safer. He had got into the country easily enough, but he was pretty sure they knew he was here. It would make no difference to his plans.
He could hear sounds of a party from somewhere below. Probably some firm giving out christmas drinks to the staff, celebrating early.
Ramos smiled to himself. He'd have something to celebrate soon, £50,000.
He looked again at the photograph of the man he had to kill. It was an impersonal look. Just another contact. Ramos sighed and wished the phone would ring from his tip-off. Not that he was anxious, but he wanted to get the job over - he couldn't stand this english weather, coming as he did from a hot climate. He turned the photograph over. The man's name was on the back, James Fielding.
The Ci5 men patrolling the 'safe' house in the inconspicuous back street had no idea James Fielding was inside. It was, so far as they were concerned, just another guard duty. Fielding was going over some documents. He lost concentration and glanced at his watch. He wondered when Cowley would phone. Soon, he hoped. He would be glad when the investigation was over. Cooped up and watched, it was like being in prison himself. He wished he hadn't got the information on the terrorist organisation, but it was too late for wishing. The group would try to kill him, he knew that, but maybe, after his debriefing with the judicial committee, he could disappear, go back to Canada with his daughter Deborah. Since his wife died Debbie was all he had. Luckily, at eight years of age, she had no idea of what was going on. Matheson, his assistant, opened the door and came in with the files he had asked for. He caught a glimpse of Debbie in the next room playing with her dolls.
Doyle wanderec around the packed department store, mingling with the shoppers, pushing his way through the crowds, all the time keeping a watchful eye. Could Ramos possibly be comming here? Maybe Cowley was just giving him a soft touch. It's unlike him, Doyle thought, even though he wasn't one hundred per cent fit. His side still hurt from that oil rig business. He thought of the hours he had spent in his skinsuit under the rig in the black, cold water of the North Sea and shivered. What kind of a job was this, anyway?
He comforted himself with the thought that Harrods was atleast warm. Cowley could do him favours like this anytime. Except, of course, it couldn't be a favour. Otherwise, Bodie wouldn't be here.
Bodie perused the perfume display, Cowley hadn't said he couldn't do his christmas shopping. If he took offence Bodie would say, in his most innocent voice, that he was melting into the crowd. The tall, slim elegant blonde behind the counter smiled at him and he wonderd just how long her legs were. He couldn't see for the counter. She was being run off her feet and she still had time to smile. That was a come on if ever he saw one. Then he admitted to himself that he saw everything as a come on - even the brush off.
He ordered twelve identical toiletry sets and saw the blonde raise an eyebrow. He would like to have told her he'd decided to buy all his girlfriends the same present. It would stop a repeat of all the trouble of last year when he'd gone crazy trying to remember which girl he'd given what to. Maybe he should buy one for her ? No - thirteen was unlucky.
James Fielding finally received his phone call from Cowley. He was asked to reconsider, but Fielding insisted on going through with it. He had promised Deborah, and it was the only request he had made. Cowley drew a sharp breath, making his opinion clear, but he was in no position to argue. He asked to talk to Braben, the senior CI5 man and - as arrangements were finalised - Fielding went to fetch his daughter. Debbie squealed her delight. "Are we going? Are we going to see father christmas now, Daddy?"
Matheson watched the car containing Fielding, Deborah and Braben, and two other CI5 men, pull away. The moment it turned the corner he lifted the phone and dialled a number. He spoke a password and replaced the receiver, so raw to the game that he never even suspected that the line was bugged and he would be arrested later. The group had promised him money and rated him expendable.
After receiving the password from Matheson, Ramos took less than a minute to leave the apartment for the last time. All he had to do was put on his coat and pick up a shoebox - sized parcel - gaily wrapped in christmas paper - that contained the gun.
Ramos would slide his hand into the collapsible end flap and pull the trigger when the moment presented itself.
Bodie and Doyle met up in the store. Nothing had happened. Cowley must be slipping up in his old age. They had both noticed that he wasn't around.
Ramos entered the department store on the south side. He wore a soft hat pulled low and a scarf muffled most of his face. With his christmas parcel clutched tight he was soon lost in the thronging mass of shoppers.
The car containing Fielding pulled to a halt in front of Harrods. Fielding and Deborah moved out, flanked by Braben and one of the CI5 men, while the other man stayed behing the wheel of the car.
Bodie and Doyle had arrived in the security section. Without much hope, they watched the shoppers on the bank of television screens. Then, to their surprise, they thought they saw Ramos. A needle in a haystack? Or a look-alike? Whatever the outcome, checking the man out would relieve the boredom. Bodie and Doyle followed his progress on the screens, through several departments, until they were sure where he was heading. 'Toys and Games' and the grotto of Father Christmas.
Fielding and Deborah arrived in Reindeer Land and joined the queue to see Santa Claus. Braben thought it was crazy, mixing in these sorts of crowds. But maybe there was safety in numbers. Fielding's daughter was excited. What was worth spoiling a visit to Father Christmas anyway?
Braben and his colleague watched the doors, scrutinising every face closely. How were they to know that Ramos was already inside the area?
Fielding and Deborah had almost reached the red-robed, white-beared figure. Not much of a job, thought Fielding. He wonderd how they kept their temper with all the children.
Debbie was jumping up and down now, scarecly able to contain her excitement. Ramos edged closer. The gun in the parcel he carried pointed towards Fieldin. He should be able to escape in the panic that followed. He had thoroughly cased the store and knew the back corridors and short cuts like the back of his hand. Ramos waited for a clear shot. He would more than likely only get one chance and the silencer should give him a head start before anyone realised what had happened.
Bodie and Doyle arrived together into the grotto. They saw Ramos - saw immediately that it was him - and although they couldn't see the gun they saw the way he was holding his parcel and it didn't take much imagination to realise what it was. Both Bodie and Doyle shouted a warning - despite having no idea who the target was - and launched themselves towards Ramos. Ramos was startled and - although the bullet sped from the gun, it only shattered a coloured light on the christmas tree, before Ramos could get off another shot Santa Claus, with an agility that belied his years, grabbed what looked like a toy gun beside him and got off two shots. Ramos, hit in the shoulder and leg, went down in a heap as Bodie and Doyle threw themselves on top of him. Bodie grabbed the gun, and Doyle held on to Ramos although he wasn't going to be any more trouble. They looked up as Santa Claus stared down at them, "well done"
The voice was unmistakable, even from behing the flowing white beard, "But you could have been five seconds faster!"
Bodie and Doyle looked at each other and started to laugh. One thing you could always count on. Cowley - even dressed up as Father Christmas - was never satisfied!
Please don't ask me to put this under a cut because i wouldn't know where to start.
.
Bodie and Doyle stood outside Harrods in Knightsbridge. Christmas was really in the air.The windows were packed with decorations and lights shone out into the growing gloom of the afternoon.
It looked like it was going to snow again. Nice for the kids, but the adults - their clouded breath billowing on the cold air - had only one thing in mind, to complete their shopping and get back home.
Bodie and Doyle stood for a while before going into the store, their eyes examining the faces around them.Although they had the photograph of Ramos etched into their brains they did not pretend to understand why. What would a top international assassin like Ramos be doing at Harrods? His Christmas shopping? Yet Cowley had been quite specific.
"We know he's in the country and we've got a pretty good idea why," Cowly had said. "The biggest manhunt ever staged is going on, and every available CI5 agent is on the case as of now."
Then Cowley had taken them aside and given them their assignment, Harrods.
It didn't make sense to either Bodie or Doyle. But "The Cow" hadn't said anything else, and when he didn't say - you didn't ask!
Ramos lay on the bed in the Knightsbridge apartment that had been found for him. It was getting dark outside and as he stared at the window he realise it somehow made him feel safer. He had got into the country easily enough, but he was pretty sure they knew he was here. It would make no difference to his plans.
He could hear sounds of a party from somewhere below. Probably some firm giving out christmas drinks to the staff, celebrating early.
Ramos smiled to himself. He'd have something to celebrate soon, £50,000.
He looked again at the photograph of the man he had to kill. It was an impersonal look. Just another contact. Ramos sighed and wished the phone would ring from his tip-off. Not that he was anxious, but he wanted to get the job over - he couldn't stand this english weather, coming as he did from a hot climate. He turned the photograph over. The man's name was on the back, James Fielding.
The Ci5 men patrolling the 'safe' house in the inconspicuous back street had no idea James Fielding was inside. It was, so far as they were concerned, just another guard duty. Fielding was going over some documents. He lost concentration and glanced at his watch. He wondered when Cowley would phone. Soon, he hoped. He would be glad when the investigation was over. Cooped up and watched, it was like being in prison himself. He wished he hadn't got the information on the terrorist organisation, but it was too late for wishing. The group would try to kill him, he knew that, but maybe, after his debriefing with the judicial committee, he could disappear, go back to Canada with his daughter Deborah. Since his wife died Debbie was all he had. Luckily, at eight years of age, she had no idea of what was going on. Matheson, his assistant, opened the door and came in with the files he had asked for. He caught a glimpse of Debbie in the next room playing with her dolls.
Doyle wanderec around the packed department store, mingling with the shoppers, pushing his way through the crowds, all the time keeping a watchful eye. Could Ramos possibly be comming here? Maybe Cowley was just giving him a soft touch. It's unlike him, Doyle thought, even though he wasn't one hundred per cent fit. His side still hurt from that oil rig business. He thought of the hours he had spent in his skinsuit under the rig in the black, cold water of the North Sea and shivered. What kind of a job was this, anyway?
He comforted himself with the thought that Harrods was atleast warm. Cowley could do him favours like this anytime. Except, of course, it couldn't be a favour. Otherwise, Bodie wouldn't be here.
Bodie perused the perfume display, Cowley hadn't said he couldn't do his christmas shopping. If he took offence Bodie would say, in his most innocent voice, that he was melting into the crowd. The tall, slim elegant blonde behind the counter smiled at him and he wonderd just how long her legs were. He couldn't see for the counter. She was being run off her feet and she still had time to smile. That was a come on if ever he saw one. Then he admitted to himself that he saw everything as a come on - even the brush off.
He ordered twelve identical toiletry sets and saw the blonde raise an eyebrow. He would like to have told her he'd decided to buy all his girlfriends the same present. It would stop a repeat of all the trouble of last year when he'd gone crazy trying to remember which girl he'd given what to. Maybe he should buy one for her ? No - thirteen was unlucky.
James Fielding finally received his phone call from Cowley. He was asked to reconsider, but Fielding insisted on going through with it. He had promised Deborah, and it was the only request he had made. Cowley drew a sharp breath, making his opinion clear, but he was in no position to argue. He asked to talk to Braben, the senior CI5 man and - as arrangements were finalised - Fielding went to fetch his daughter. Debbie squealed her delight. "Are we going? Are we going to see father christmas now, Daddy?"
Matheson watched the car containing Fielding, Deborah and Braben, and two other CI5 men, pull away. The moment it turned the corner he lifted the phone and dialled a number. He spoke a password and replaced the receiver, so raw to the game that he never even suspected that the line was bugged and he would be arrested later. The group had promised him money and rated him expendable.
After receiving the password from Matheson, Ramos took less than a minute to leave the apartment for the last time. All he had to do was put on his coat and pick up a shoebox - sized parcel - gaily wrapped in christmas paper - that contained the gun.
Ramos would slide his hand into the collapsible end flap and pull the trigger when the moment presented itself.
Bodie and Doyle met up in the store. Nothing had happened. Cowley must be slipping up in his old age. They had both noticed that he wasn't around.
Ramos entered the department store on the south side. He wore a soft hat pulled low and a scarf muffled most of his face. With his christmas parcel clutched tight he was soon lost in the thronging mass of shoppers.
The car containing Fielding pulled to a halt in front of Harrods. Fielding and Deborah moved out, flanked by Braben and one of the CI5 men, while the other man stayed behing the wheel of the car.
Bodie and Doyle had arrived in the security section. Without much hope, they watched the shoppers on the bank of television screens. Then, to their surprise, they thought they saw Ramos. A needle in a haystack? Or a look-alike? Whatever the outcome, checking the man out would relieve the boredom. Bodie and Doyle followed his progress on the screens, through several departments, until they were sure where he was heading. 'Toys and Games' and the grotto of Father Christmas.
Fielding and Deborah arrived in Reindeer Land and joined the queue to see Santa Claus. Braben thought it was crazy, mixing in these sorts of crowds. But maybe there was safety in numbers. Fielding's daughter was excited. What was worth spoiling a visit to Father Christmas anyway?
Braben and his colleague watched the doors, scrutinising every face closely. How were they to know that Ramos was already inside the area?
Fielding and Deborah had almost reached the red-robed, white-beared figure. Not much of a job, thought Fielding. He wonderd how they kept their temper with all the children.
Debbie was jumping up and down now, scarecly able to contain her excitement. Ramos edged closer. The gun in the parcel he carried pointed towards Fieldin. He should be able to escape in the panic that followed. He had thoroughly cased the store and knew the back corridors and short cuts like the back of his hand. Ramos waited for a clear shot. He would more than likely only get one chance and the silencer should give him a head start before anyone realised what had happened.
Bodie and Doyle arrived together into the grotto. They saw Ramos - saw immediately that it was him - and although they couldn't see the gun they saw the way he was holding his parcel and it didn't take much imagination to realise what it was. Both Bodie and Doyle shouted a warning - despite having no idea who the target was - and launched themselves towards Ramos. Ramos was startled and - although the bullet sped from the gun, it only shattered a coloured light on the christmas tree, before Ramos could get off another shot Santa Claus, with an agility that belied his years, grabbed what looked like a toy gun beside him and got off two shots. Ramos, hit in the shoulder and leg, went down in a heap as Bodie and Doyle threw themselves on top of him. Bodie grabbed the gun, and Doyle held on to Ramos although he wasn't going to be any more trouble. They looked up as Santa Claus stared down at them, "well done"
The voice was unmistakable, even from behing the flowing white beard, "But you could have been five seconds faster!"
Bodie and Doyle looked at each other and started to laugh. One thing you could always count on. Cowley - even dressed up as Father Christmas - was never satisfied!
Please don't ask me to put this under a cut because i wouldn't know where to start.
.
