| Subject: Chapter 150 |
Author:
Lynuslinus
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Date Posted: Monday, October 18, 07:25:18pm
In reply to:
Lynuslinus
's message, "Whispered Identities - Chapter 129 and forward" on Sunday, August 22, 06:05:27pm
Michael and Nikita had left the secondary highway upon discovering another arterial road leading to an abandoned border crossing into Portugal. The old crossing had been closed two years earlier in favor of the main highway crossing from Madrid to Badajoz and on to Lisbon.
Michael had re-assumed the driving shortly after Nikita had spotted an old road sign indicating the Portugese border. She was fighting fatigue and suggested to Michael, he might want to drive again. He had still not slept but had sat with his eyes closed; this mind racing with the realization that MI-6 and Interpol had now discovered their whereabouts.
Dawn was creeping over the horizon as the Mercedes approached the abandoned border crossing; Michael slowed the car and pulled out his binoculars. He sat scanning the roadway ahead and the distant landscape that was Portugal. Nikita had dozed briefly and awoke sensing the vehicle coming to a stop.
“How does it look Michael?”
“Quiet.”
“It will be daylight soon...,” she squinted. “.....should we make a run for it?”
“There is an old wooden barrier blocking the road....” Michael glanced around and spotted a cluster of cork trees. “.....I’ll pull the car under those trees and go and cut the lock on the gate...you keep watch...with your gun.”
Nikita reached into her bag and pulled out the baby glock Michael had purchased for her. When he presented the gun to her, she had anticipated an explanation of how he came to purchase such a weapon in Spain. There had been no discussion; and Nikita had simply accepted the gun and smiled. Michael shut off the engine, reached back into his bag and pulled out his revolver and a multi-task tool. Nodding at Nikita, he leapt from the vehicle and dashed towards the barricade. Nikita slipped from the car and crouched behind the passenger door, her eyes darting around the surrounding landscape. Upon reaching the barrier, Michael made quick work of breaking the old, rusting lock. He clutched the lock and lifted the wooden barrier upright; then swung around and motioned for Nikita to bring the car forward.
Nikita jumped behind the wheel of the Mercedes and gunned the car forward across the border. She expected Michael to jump into the vehicle but looking over her shoulder, she saw him replacing the barricade and attempting to re-attach the lock. Michael leapt into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
“GO!” he shouted.
Nikita floored the accelerator; dust and debris rising into the early morning air. Once they had driven a few kilometers down the old road, she turned to Michael.
“Good plan....making it look like the barricade hadn’t been disturbed.” She smiled.
“We need every possible break.” He grabbed the roadmap and sat silently. “This dirt road should lead onto a secondary route, then the main expressway into Lisbon.”
“Is that wise? Maybe we should continue to use arterial roads.”
“Not now....we need to arrive in Lisbon and make contact with Dalton’s people.”
“Dalton? That your contact man?”
“Yes...hopefully he still uses one of his illegal business as a conduit.”
“What....as a way of making contact with him directly?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of illegal business?”
“A brothel....well, high priced brothel.”
Nikita grinned. “Hummmm....and this brothel....I guess you maybe had to use it as a safehouse....while you waited to contact this....ahhh...Dalton guy.”
“No, I was only in and out of there once.....I.....”
Nikita sniggered. “Uh huh....sure.”
Michael suppressed a smile. “Oh, sorry....what I meant to say is...I just made contact and left.....”
“Michael....quit while you’re ahead....I think I get the picture. So, will we be staying there?”
“Possibly....until Dalton gives us confirmation to come to his villa in the south.”
“Hummmm...a brothel....you take me to such nice places Michael.” She grinned.
Michael had once again resumed driving and pulled the Mercedes into a petrol station in the village of Santarem. Nikita disappeared into the ladies washroom and attended to her toiletries including brushing her teeth and attempting to wash her face in cold water. She emerged and walked up to Michael as he was handing over the last of the large denomination euros in their possession. As the attendant disappeared into the station, Michael reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Nikita’s face.
“Feel a little better? Too bad they don’t have showers...we could freshen up and....”
“You go...I’ll watch the car....oh, the water’s cold.” she smiled..
Michael strode off to the men’s room and returned a few minutes later. “Yes....cold water.”
Nikita had purchased two coffees and a box of cookies. She handed Michael a steaming cup and ripped open the cookie box.
“Hummmm....looks like peanut butter .....you allergic to peanuts Michael?”
“No...why would you think that?”
“Well, there are so many things I don’t know about you....so....just how much money do we have left. I just have some change.”
“Two hundred euros....once I make contact with Dalton in Lisbon...we will go have a proper meal.”
“And....ahhh....I guess we sleep at the brothel,” she grinned. “Oh life with you Michael....I had no idea when I joined up for this adventure...we would be having such a wonderful experience!”
They slid into the car with Michael driving. He steered the car onto the highway and turned to Nikita. “I...I am sorry Nikita....things have not been the best for us....running and hiding....I should have been better prepared.”
Nikita reached over and ran her fingers through the chestnut curls resting against his jacket; the blonde hair dye having long since washed away.
“Michael.... I’m teasing you....I don’t care where we stay....if we eat peanut butter cookies...or wash with cold water....as long as I’m with you.”
Michael drew the back of one hand across his mouth and inhaled.
(('Why did this wonderful woman want to be with him? Living like criminals....on the run....'))
He glanced over at Nikita and took her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers, one by one.
(('....she is so beautiful....when I look at her....I....I want her so much.'))
Later that afternoon, Michael manoeuvered the Mercedes through the Lisbon traffic.
“Check the Lisbon directory please....I am looking for a street called Cabo...off the Barreiro...Dalton has his...ah...business place there.”
After twenty minutes of attempts to locate the street, Michael pulled the car into a parking area. “Geeze Michael....sorry, but...we found the Barreiro...but I couldn’t see any street called Cabo.”
Michael took the local Lisbon directory. “Hummmm....it was dark when I visited there...and I wasn’t driving....let’s try again...I’ll try to drive slower...the street is very small.”
Nikita looked at Michael and smiled sheepishly. “Ahhhh....we could ask someone for directions to the street....or is that really a guy thing...not asking for directions.”
“We’ll find it ourselves.”
The next turn through the Barreiro district, Michael slowed the vehicle to a crawl; cars honked repeatedly. Nikita’s eyes were darted around until she spotted a tiny one way road on the right.
“There! Turn right now Michael! It’s Cabo ....”
Michael jerked the wheel into the tiny street and steered slowly over the cobbled roadway.
“So now what do we look for Michael....a red light?” she grinned.
Michael pointed ahead. “On the left...the brown building...two story.” I’ll park outside...you wait here.”
Nikita sat impatiently in the car; it had been fifteen minutes since Michael had disappeared into the building. She was just about to grab her handbag with the glock and enter the building when Michael appeared in the doorway, with another man. They walked back to the Mercedes.
“Grab what you need Nikita....for a few days....Stephan will hide the car for us.”
Nikita smiled at Stephan and jumped out, grabbing her overnight bag and one other small bag containing clothes. Michael scooped up the computer and two personal bags. Stephan slid behind the wheel and raced off down the narrow street to a small garage, where he honked twice and slid the vehicle into the garage; the double doors closing quickly behind him.
Michael and Nikita walked into the brown building. It looked like a small hotel complete with desk clerk. Just then, an oversized businessman appeared, nodded at the couple and the ‘desk clerk’. He spoke as he approached the desk. “Same time for me next week please,” he spoke in English with a German accent.
Michael and Nikita stood to one side until the businessman finished with the clerk. As the man disappeared out the front door, the clerk handed Michael a key and pointed to the stairs. The couple hauled their luggage up the narrow staircase and Michael located the room number. He dropped his bags and opened the door. The room was average size with a small double bed and window overlooking the street. Nikita wandered into the tiny bathroom and examined the shower stall with no shower curtain. She giggled and returned to the main room. Michael was unpacking the computer.
“So...ah...Michael...do they think we are here for sex...or what?”
“It was fortunate that Stephan was here. He remembered me and will deal with contacting Dalton....but unfortunately Dalton is on Madeira...supposedly fishing....though I doubt that is his real activity. No doubt he is organizing some operation from there.”
The door slammed loudly in the room next to theirs; Nikita swung around quickly at the sound. Michael stared at the adjoining wall between the rooms. They remained silent as the sound of a man laughing and a woman giggling was heard through the walls. Michael shook his head and walked to Nikita. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his body as he whispered.
“Sorry....I think we might be treated to the grunts of sex being exchanged for money.”
Nikita grinned and kissed Michael’s nose. “Well, let’s give their grunts and grinds a pass....I’m starved, let’s go find some dinner.”
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