Liam Radcliff had chosen the Yorkshire Grill, not because of its greasy American-style food, but for its name. He had been born and raised in Yorkshire, England but his beloved Yorkshire was miles and miles away from the balmy, rotting City of Angels. Liam knew that latching onto names which were bolted to faded business fronts, he was grasping at straws in an effort to find a bit of home away from home. He knew that quite well, but he wasn’t in the mood to beat himself up over the futility of it all.

At six am, the place was empty, save for a few bleary eyed, rumpled travelers who sat like carrion birds, hunched over small white cups of sludge black coffee and day old bagels. Liam took a booth in the back and smoothing down his new silver-grey tie, tucking it neatly into the front of his dark suit jacket, he eased down slowly, never letting his eyes still, never letting his guard down, and never letting up. Every thing, and every one was… suspect. Liam sat near the edge of the booth and leaning forward; he lightly clasped his hands together, tented his fingers and relaxed his shoulders. There was no need to call any more attention to himself than he needed to. His contact would soon be there.

A pale triangle of light cut across the clean floor when the front door opened and like being cut off by the sliding of a door, the light was gone.  Liam looked up. The woman standing there in her heels and Gucci looked so sorely out of place that he felt himself wince. So much for keeping a low profile, he mentally chided himself and clasped his fingers a little tighter. Obviously unconcerned with standing out, she adjusted her narrow mirrored sunglasses and walked confidently and directly towards Liam. He did not rise when she paused by the table, and it was apparent that she hadn’t expected him too.

She slid into the booth across from him and placed her purse on the seat next to her. In the cool overhead light, her warm brown skin gleamed and to Liam’s sharp eye, everything about her outward appearance was perfect. From the rows upon rows of immaculate Bantu knots, to her lightly rouged cheekbones to her wide sensuous mouth and elegant neck, she was icily perfect. Catching the reflection of his face in her sunnies and the acceptance of her challenge he could see in his own eyes, Liam wanted nothing more than to reach across the table, wind her wine red silk scarf about his fist, spirit her back to his house, bind her wrists to his headboard with said scarf and show her how delicious it was to be in her position; to be the worshiped one.

The corner of her mouth twitched and she inclined her head to one side. So wholly and unusually caught in his fantasy, for a moment Liam thought that he had spoken his thoughts aloud and that she was about to loose a storm upon his head for being so lewd. Instead she cleared her throat and reached to retrieve something from her purse. Liam self-consciously smoothed down his tie again and waited. She drew out a grey paper envelope and slid it along with a black and white glossy photo across the table towards him. He did not reach for it. He did not take his eyes from her face. He merely waited. The woman removed her sunglasses and after flicking the arms closed, she lay them down on the table top and studied them for a moment.

Liam continued to watch her and finally she lifted her eyes to look into his. There was a thin jagged white scar bisecting her right eyelid and running up against the edge of her nose and yet her beauty was not marred.

“Half now, the rest when the package is delivered,” she said in a soft voice.

Liam wanted to laugh. This woman had been watching too many espionage movies in order to say something like that.

“That wasn’t the deal,” he answered casually, still disregarding the distended envelope, though the woman in the photo had definitely caught his eye.

“This is my deal,” she stressed and the tiniest of creases appeared between her thin brows. “Not the company’s.”

Liam sat back against the booth, regarded her for a long moment and then got up. He didn’t make it far (just beyond where she sat) before she spoke.

“You walk out of here and it’s over for you, Liam. They’ll see to it.”

Her voice drifted around him like a velvety fog. Liam stopped dead in his tracks and his hands involuntarily clenched. He could smell her perfume from where he stood and the cook behind the lunch counter glanced over at the two of them curiously. He knew that he was taking a huge gamble by playing with her like this, forcing her hand in a way that he was sure she wasn’t going to tolerate. But he was never one to play by all of the rules.

“Sit,” she told him and he obeyed after a moment’s hesitation.

A small smile slipped across her lips when their eyes met again. Liam scowled and scratched at his stubbled cheek.

“Now…are you willing to listen this time, or are you going to storm out of here as if you don’t have a stake in this game.”

Liam said nothing and the woman continued.

“Half now and half when the package is delivered. Do you understand?”

Liam nodded once.

“Say that you understand.”

“I understand,” he parroted quickly.

“Good, then you--,”

“I understand,” Liam interrupted. “I understand that you think you still have some sort of pull over me, Kenya. That was years ago. You don’t anymore.”

The smile lengthened her lips.

“From what I remember, Liam, that’s not what you were saying two weeks ago.”

She paused, stared at him, waiting for his reaction.

A tremor went through him. Oh, he remembered what had happened between the two of them; too much wine, too many lost inhibitions resulted in one impossibly wild weekend.

Fire flared in Liam’s green eyes, but his face remained passive. There was no use giving in when putting up a fight meant nothing to her.

“I thought so. Now. Will you do this? It is very important that both this woman and the package reach their destination. But, I’ll tell you, the package is more important than the girl.”

“Then why is she involved?”

“Volunteered,” she said casually and let her eyes slip around the room.

“This… package can’t be couriered?”

“No. You’re the only one I trust, Liam. You’re the only one that can get it done without collateral damage. There are too many people hoping to get their hands on it.”

Liam looked down at the picture. The dark haired, dark eyed woman stared back at him unsmiling and threatening yet looked positively frightened.

“Who is she?”

Kenya did not respond. She collected her things and rose from the booth. She looked down at him. He still took her breath away with his quiet yet deeply intensive good looks.

“You’ll be contacted with further information,” she said as she left the eatery.

Liam sat there for a moment longer and stared at the picture. He knew how this game was played and he knew that this woman in the photo wasn’t going to stay alive very long. He flicked at the seal on the envelope, ruffled through the bills there and then stored it in his jacket’s inside pocket. He then took the picture in both hands and memorized the woman’s placid face. In his other pocket, he found his lighter. He tossed the photo into the ashtray and held the flame against one pointed corner. Liam waited until the woman’s face dissolved into a mess of singed paper and bubbling chemicals before he rose and left the restaurant.



**


Liam sat in the glossy black M5 BMW sedan staring out at the torrential rain thundering down upon the windscreen. In the distance, thunder rumbled like the approach of a freight train and Liam breathed out a long calming sigh. It was the wait that always made him anxious. He wanted to get moving and the longer he sat in one place the more of a target he became. He reached forward and dialed up the air conditioning and the engine surged a bit to compensate. Closing his eyes, Liam listened to the wet floppy sounds of the back seat passenger toweling her long braids dry before opening his eyes and glancing at her through the rear view mirror.

Her name was Joanna and she hadn’t said a word ever since she’d dashed with him from the hotel through the rain and dove into the back seat of the car. But it didn’t matter, for the driver wasn’t much of a talker.

Liam looked out at the pounding rain again and was grateful that it was starting to let up, for driving in those conditions was more treacherous than he wanted to risk.

When he deemed it safe enough, Liam pulled out from the alleyway behind the hotel and out onto the slick streets. It didn’t take long for headlights to slide in behind them.

“Expecting someone?” Liam asked Joanna.

The woman pressed herself into the corner of the backseat and clutched the damp towel against her midsection.

“No,” she answered calmly as if she were used to being asked that particular question. “Should I be?”

Liam said nothing, but he kept his eye on the tail.

They drove in silence for close to twenty minutes on the quiet two lane highway and while the car managed to say a good distance away, Liam never lost sight of it. He increased speed just a little, zipping ahead into the wet gloom illuminated by the car’s headlights. The car in turn purred, settled down, and clutched possessively at the road; doing what it was made for; speed.

The non-descript car that trailed, hesitated a bit and then cut out around the few cars that separated them, keeping one old station wagon in between it and the Beemer.

Soon the station wagon pulled off onto an exit ramp and then it was just the two of them on the road. The car fell back until Liam could only see a dull gleam of the headlights in the mist. The highway was quiet for a long time and Liam settled back into the comfortable seat.

“Are you at ease?” he asked Joanna.

“A bit cold,” she answered, not elaborating on whether she liked it cold or wanted more heat. “Can I open a window?”

Liam knew the make up of his car. He knew that the windows as well as the sleek body were armored to resist the caliber and speed of most bullets. Having the window open would defeat the purpose of going through all of that work.

“No,” he said and locked the windows in case the woman decided that she knew what was best and wound it open regardless.

Joanna said nothing in response. She merely put his head back against the upraised headrest and turned her head to look out at the night woods running along side the car. Liam used the rearview mirror to look at her and then at the car quickly approaching from behind. Suddenly the unmarked car whipped to the left and came up along side of the BMW.

Liam gave the car a quick once over and was about to hit the brakes just as several flashlight beams shown into the car, brightening the interior. Joanna squinted and lifted a hand to shield her eyes against the light trained directly upon her. Liam kept up his speed, nice and steady when he saw the rifles aimed at the car by the man standing up through the car’s sunroof as well as the man sitting in the car’s back seat.

Liam had been in the transport business for a very long time and he knew how to react in such extreme situations. Always keep a calm head, always negotiate with adversaries until you discover what they want and if it’s in your best interest to deal with them, then do so, if not, kill them.

“Do you know them?” Liam asked Joanna.

“No. Nn--oo I don’t know who they are.”

Something in the woman’s voice gave her away and Liam knew that she was lying.

“I’ll only ask you once more, now. Who are they?!”

Joanna shrank back into the seat and clutched at the silver metal briefcase.

“I said I don’t know!”

Something thunked hard against the rear driver’s side window and Joanna pulled the briefcase into her lap, protecting it with her crossed arms. Liam glanced left toward the man staring back at him, only seeing a red ski-masked face, the flashlight beam and the gleaming mouth of the gun. Liam felt confident enough, safe in the knowledge that anything coming out of that pistol would not pierce the armored windows and endanger him or his passenger, but this thing clinging by suction cup to the back window was new to him. A light mist of liquid sprayed from the center of the suction cup and the crackling of the rapidly freezing glass composite was loud in the silence of the car. Liam knew right away what was happening; they were using liquid nitrogen to break the resistant window!

Joanna scuttled back even more, squeezing herself against the opposite door as the suction cup fell away. Thin spindly cracks raced all over the window and then in an explosion of glass and plastic the tip of the slender head of a grappling hook punched into the car, opened wickedly sharp arms and then clamped into the black leather of the door and frame.

They were tethered dangerously to the car racing along beside them and Liam knew he had lost control of the situation. If he didn’t act fast, he could jeopardize Joanna and the package, but there was too much money at stake to let that happen.

“Buckle up,” Liam told her and she obeyed immediately.

She was scared, yes, but also thrilled to her bones and a smile crept over her face as she watched the dark haired man work.

The masked man briefly held up and illuminated his two way radio and gestured to it with a nod of his head. Liam nodded in return and waited for the code. Gloved fingers moved to form the numbers:

Three. Five. Two. Two.

Liam reached down and punched the numbers into the radio’s keypad to open up the one-way intercom. The man’s voice crackled through the speakers.

“Your passenger has something that we want. Something very valuables that should not be in her possession.”

“What are you carrying?” Liam demanded.

Joanna continued to clutch the case with both arms now, tightly as if holding a babe.

“I—I can’t…” Joanna stammered impotently.

“Tell me what you are carrying, or I’ll dump you out and let them have at you.”

“You can’t!” she cried lurching forward to grab Liam by the shoulder only to be jerked back by the seat belt. “No, please you can’t. You don’t understand.”

“This can get ugly very fast,” Liam assured her. “You’re lucky they haven’t shot you yet. Now, explain it to me.”

The masked man continued to speak, unaware of the argument going on inside the car. The heavy coil of metal and chain rattled against the broken glass and reminded Liam that his time was running out.

“I’m going to count down from ten to zero and then I want you do slow your car. Nod to indicate that you understand.”

Liam nodded to the masked man and put both hands on the wheel of the car in a show of good faith.

“Please,” begged Joanna. “If you give me up you might as well launch those nuclear missiles yourself and wipe out the human race.”

What exactly did this woman carry? What deal had Kenya gotten herself into?

Liam made a decision.

“Hang on,” he said to Joanna just as the masked man’s count reached zero.

Liam slammed on the brakes and the car growled excited. The chain connecting the two cars snapped taut and the unmarked car skidded backwards and strained against the unmatched power of the BMW. The man who had been standing up through the open sunroof lurched forward, and lost his hold on his weapon. Then as the car he’d been riding in, shuddered to a smoking halt and then danced to one side, he was violently ejected, tumbling like a sack of potatoes across the hood.

Liam let up on the brake and the other car screeched again and tried to pull away. Bullets slammed into the car and Joanna ducked down out of the way. Then, much to Liam’s surprised, the woman popped up again and stomping one booted foot against the door, Joanna braced herself, aimed between the arms of the grappling hook and squeezed off two clean and steady shots at the wildly careening car, deftly taking out the second gunman. Liam accelerated again much to the frustration of the driver of the other car and pulled the car along with him while the other driver tried vainly to stop. The Beemer had too much momentum going behind its massive engine and refused to be slowed.

There was a grove of lampposts up ahead, an island of sorts where the highway divided. Liam thought to use the other car’s weight against it and just as they cut across the white lines painted on the road to indicate that they should go to one side or the other, he clutched the wheel, slammed on the brakes and wrenched the wheel to the right. The other car shot around, unwillingly following suit and the driver lost control. Still connected to the BMW, the other car flew in a graceful arc and then crashed fiercely into the steel lamp posts. It plowed through the first few rows of steel columns before screaming to a stop, impaled and unmoving. Liam allowed his own car to slip to a stop.

“Get down!” he shouted to Joanna.

The explosion rocked the BMW and sent a wall of red and gold flames into the night sky. The chain went slack. Joanna kicked out the skewed, still expanded head of the grappling hook.

“Go go go!” she shouted, banging on the back of Liam’s seat.

The driver pressed the gas and the sleek black car disappeared into the night.

**

The gates of the small airfield were open and Liam drove through them and towards the first empty hangar where two plainly dressed men waited. Still holding the briefcase in her hand, Joanna got out of the car. She moved towards the men but then paused and fumbled about in her pocket. Turning back to the car, she tapped a finger against the passenger side window. Liam rolled down the window and Joanna flicked a business card onto the seat before walking off and into the custody of the men who then hustled her off to a white and black Cessna.

Liam watched the small plane disappear into the night before he picked up the card.

It was a card from a local pub, but on the back she had scrawled her name and a telephone number. Liam was used to that kind of thing; clients that were so grateful for his services that they wanted to see him again for drinks or more. Liam tucked the card into his pocket. Generally he declined their offers, but the woman intrigued him and he wouldn’t mind having a drink with her. Or more.

End