Page 21 of Donovan Blake: Passion

“We wait and see what they do. If they open the back doors I start taking a shitload of photographs. Now put that hamper down by your feet and grab my briefcase. If they unload…that’s when the fun begins.”

* * *

Inside the van, Craig Carson leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. What he thought would be a relatively simple task had turned into a hellish nightmare. How the police had known his crew were in the woods was a complete mystery. Then there was Oleg. He’d stopped answering his phone and hadn’t returned any calls. Craig was still deep in thought when a tap on the window made him jump. Jerking his head around, he saw Bob Lacey, his partner in crime.

“Damn, Craig,” Bob grunted as Craig lowered the window. “I can’t believe all the shit you went through.”

“Yeah, it’s been bad, real bad.”

“Any word from Oleg?”

“No, and I don’t like it one bit. That kid, Jimmy Pike, I think we underestimated him. Oleg might be loyal and tough, but he’s not sharp.”

“Well…the boss is up there waiting. Do you think the two of us can carry that painting by ourselves?”

“It weighs a fucking ton but we don’t have a choice. At least there’s a lift. Then we need to take the money and get the hell out of here. I’m not sure where, but—”

“Don’t worry, Craig. While you were on your way here I booked a house in Spain for a month.”

“Great! Okay, let’s do it.”

Opening the glove compartment and lifting out two pairs of thick, leather gloves, Craig climbed out, handed one to Bob, then walked to the back of the van.

“These are great,” Bob remarked as he pulled them on.

“I thought they’d be used by Jimmy and Nigel, not you and me,” Craig grunted, then opened the back doors and climbed in.

It wasn’t easy, but they were able to remove the precious cargo, get it through the front door and into the elevator without incident.

“Whoever put this cover over it did a great job,” Bob remarked. “I can feel the padding, and it’s tied off real tight.”

“I bet it was Hawthorne’s daughter. Jimmy wouldn’t have thought of it, and there is no-one else. Smart girl, keeping it protected like this.”

As the elevator slowed to a smooth stop, the doors opened to reveal a magnificent foyer with overhead crystal chandeliers and black marble floors leading into a luxurious living room. They were cautiously moving the painting when a young man with slicked back dark hair dressed in a crisp white uniform stepped up to greet them.

“The Master will be pleased to see you. After all the trouble you encountered he’s been worried.”

“Yeah, it was rough,” Craig replied. “Where do you want us to put this?”

“You may call me, Ari. Bring it in here for the moment.”

Though it wasn’t easy they managed to slide it into the room where Ari told them to balance it against the wall. Finally finished, they stood back and waited for the man who had hired them.

“We finally meet.”

Turning around, Craig saw a tall, imposing man wearing a black silk robe boasting a golden dragon across the front.

“It’s very late and I want to make this quick, but I assure you we will celebrate soon. Remove the protective cover and let me see this famous British Lord.”

Craig found where the cord was knotted and carefully untied it. As the wrapping fell loose and dropped to the floor, Craig and Bob stared in shock.

“What the fuck is this?” the man bellowed. “Did you think I’d pay you without seeing it?”

“But—but—” Craig stammered, his eyes still glued to the empty frame holding the thick glass pane. “The portrait was taken from Hawthorne Hall.”

“And you didn’t think to check it? Fools! You’re both stupid English fools! Did you forget you’re dealing with Alexi Koslov? You have three days to find the portrait and bring it to me. Three days. Ari will stay with you so you don’t do anything stupid. Be warned, he is an international Taekwondo champion. He can snap a neck in seconds. Wait here.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

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