Page 106 of The Impossible Fortune
Danny Lloyd should be fuming. Fuming that the guy he hired at great expense had failed to kill Jason Ritchie, and fuming that he’s sitting in an Economy seat between two losers, on a flight back to Stansted. It was the only remaining ticket on the flight, and time is of the essence now.
It was a mistake to go to Portugal: you can’t be in control of things when you’re not in the same country. Danny is heading to the South Coast. He knows people, people know him, and there’s other business he can be taking care of while he waits for someone to do a proper job on Jason Ritchie.
He clicks his fingers, but somehow the flight attendant fails to notice. No matter, no matter.
It’s funny, isn’t it, how your priorities change? How the thing that was so important yesterday can take a back seat today. Yesterday all he could think about was Jason Ritchie. Kill Jason, kill Suzi, see where the cards fell. Danny Lloyd is a disrupter. Rules are for losers. Rules are for the two guys sitting either side of him. Danny doesn’t need them.
He’ll still kill Jason; he’ll have to now. Jason won’t have taken kindly to being shot at, and, while Danny doesn’t fear Jason, you do have to tread carefully in this game.
But something much more exciting has come up. Thesort of thing that makes a two-hour Economy flight worthwhile. The geezer next to him moves his leg an inch. Danny turns to him.
‘If your leg touches my leg again, the second we get to Stansted, I’m going to break it.’
Danny turns away and shuts his eyes. He just tried to do a line of coke in the plane toilet, but all the surfaces are sloped.
He hopes he can get some sleep, because he’s looking forward to his dreams.
60
The metal cage is just large enough for two, and Ron and Connie are nose to nose in a dim, artificial light. They have started their slow descent, and the cage whirrs and whines around them.
The question for the gang was who would go down into The Compound with Connie, but Ron would accept no argument. He was going.
No one had liked it. Elizabeth had said, ‘Your plan is to travel in a small cage with a woman who has threatened to kill you, to an underground vault, whereupon you’ll retrieve a piece of paper worth a quarter of a billion pounds? That’s your grand plan.’
And, yep, that was his grand plan.
‘What shall we talk about?’ says Connie.
‘Who’s your favourite West Ham player?’ Ron asks.
‘Is this your small talk?’ says Connie.
‘Yep,’ says Ron. ‘Honed over many years.’
‘Maybe I will kill you,’ says Connie. ‘You have very fresh breath by the way.’
Ron nods. ‘You too. My favourite West Ham player’s Mark Noble. Who’s your favourite James Bond?’
‘That’s a better question,’ says Connie. ‘Pierce Brosnan. I’d climb that man like a tree.’
‘Agreed,’ says Ron. ‘Except the bit about the tree.’
The cage shudders. It would be a bad place to get trapped.
‘Talking of men I’d bang till they passed out,’ says Connie, ‘is your Jason still with that woman?’
‘He is,’ says Ron. ‘Might be serious.’
‘Shame,’ says Connie.
‘You’re not his type, Connie,’ says Ron, and Connie laughs.
‘I’d have made a good daughter-in-law to you, Ron,’ says Connie. ‘I’d have paid for the wedding and everything. Bogdan still dating Donna?’
‘Far as I know,’ says Ron.
‘Why are all the handsome men with great arms taken?’
