CHAPTER 21
Scott sat in his parked car under a shady peppercorn tree within sight of the electrician’s office. He looked at his watch, then back to the open yard and watched with steely eyes the electrician as he walked to his office and disappeared inside.
A few minutes later he emerged again holding a piece of paper in his hand.
The piece of paper was rolled, which suggested it to be a fax and most probably the bait that Sudovich had organized, he thought.
He readied himself to drive while he watched the electrician walk to the truck. A cloud of black diesel smoke escaped the rear of the vehicle, announcing that the electrician was about to roll.
His own car started as the truck pulled out of the yard and onto the street. It was easily followed to a road which headed in a northerly direction away from town, and kept to this course for about four miles. Finally, it turned off to raise dust on a bush track, before it disappeared into a forest of stunted eucalypts.
Another track led him under a small bridge which straddled a dry billabong. He parked in its shade where he had a clear view of the main road and its junction with the farms dusty bush track. He waited an hour, until the sun glinted off the windscreen of the truck, heralding its return.
Some minutes later, after the truck had left on its way back to the town, a second vehicle swung onto the main road. It was an older model blue coloured Ford whose swirl of dust lingered over the track behind it.
Scott followed it discreetly back into town, and then again until it stopped at a supermarket.
He noted the driver of the blue ford, reckoning he’d be a bit over six feet tall and athletic in build. His face was shrouded in shadow thrown by a wide brimmed hat so he couldn’t make out his features clearly.
Having waited outside a moment, he crossed the street and entered the supermarket himself. Walking to the rear of the shop where he found fresh fruit juice, and with this in hand he moved across the aisles, looking up each one as he went until he saw the driver of the blue Ford.
Scott trod lightly along the aisle, until he stood next to Simon, where he noted everything about the man. From the scar on his lower leg to the single red rose tattoo on his fore arm.
The aisle was narrow, and he purposefully bumped into Simon to get a good look at the face under the broad brimmed hat.
As planned, Simon looked around at the person who’d bumped him and looked right into cold and unsmiling eyes as the person apologized gruffly.
“That’s alright mate,” Simon said as he went on his way down the aisle.
Scott stopped at the checkout to pay for his items.
“I have a feeling I’ve met the man in the wide brimmed hat. You wouldn’t by any chance know his name would you?”
The girl looked up from the groceries she was packing to see Simon’s wide brimmed hat.
“That’s Simon. Everyone knows Simon.”
Scott thanked her, and returned to his vehicle to wait until Simon left the building, then followed the old blue Ford until it turned off again onto the dusty dirt track.
Upon returning to the phone box he noted the graffiti on its wall, and as he waited for a connection he wondered what kind of good time he could have with someone named Cathy.
He heard Sudovich’s voice.
“I’ve identified two targets and their locations,” he said
“Good work,” offered Sudovich, “Will you take one tonight?”
“No, I think I’ll do both jobs together tomorrow night. The out of town one first, as I will probably have to spend more time on him. I’ve found out that his first name is Simon. Does that fit in with the names you said you have?”
Sudovich looked through his papers.
“One of the English names on the documents is James Munroe. It could be him. No doubt you’ll find out when you question him.” Sudovich reminded Scott, “Make up a map showing both men’s locations and include their descriptions. Post it to me on today’s mail.”
Scott understood that Sudovich was readying, just in case.
“I don’t like you suggesting that I might fail. I don’t...” Scott began defiantly.
Sudovich’s voice cut him short and turned steely.
“Just do as I say. Make the map and post it to me, then do what I pay you to do. Make this Simon, or whatever the arsehole’s name is, talk. Try to get hold of any paperwork as well as information. I need access to the man’s bank account.” Sudovich paused a moment before adding, “And remember, none of your baby pussy chasing on the side either. Just do what I tell you to do, then get the hell out of there. Is that clear?”
Scott looked at Cathy’s name and lied again.
“Yes, boss.”
At the roadhouse a short time later he forgot all about Cathy as he turned his attention to the young girl. With careful questions he found out her name, where she lived and what time she usually left the roadhouse at night.
He made her laugh a trusting young girl’s laugh.
Later, as he lay on his bed at the motel he devised his plan for the next day. Not noticing the late night news or its mention of a President Axele, whose government, according to reliable sources was likely to fall.
He formed his plan.
A drive down the dusty road to find a place to hide the car, then walk the final kilometre or so to the farm which must be down there somewhere. Lie up under cover for the day to watch the goings on before moving in. Just on sundown would be a good time. He could spend some time on the Ford driver, and then go to the electrician and deal with him. After that he’d go by the roadhouse, snatch the girl and take her back to the place down the dusty road.
If he had trouble extracting the information from the blue Ford driver, then he could leave him tethered and finish him when he came back with the girl.
His fingers touched lightly on the heavy bladed knifes honed edge before he lay it on the bed beside him. When the young girls form began to fill his mind’s eye, he reached for the zipper of his trousers and took his hardness in hand.
He awoke early the next morning refreshed, and after an early morning jog past the electrician’s house he ate breakfast at the roadhouse. Then returned to the motel to shower and prepare his work gear.
Donning a dark coloured tracksuit he threw his tool bag in the boot of the car and drove to the dusty track.
At the turn off, he checked his rear view mirror, and seeing no one in sight drove down the dirt track, awkwardly handling the rough road. He drove until he saw buildings in the distance through the trees, at which point he left the track and directed the car towards some thick scrub nearby. Once there, he opened the cars boot and extracted an olive green army surplus parachute car cover.
It covered the car completely and he changed from his tracksuit to a pair of olive green overalls. Unzipping the tool bag in the boot of the car he reached into it and retrieved the pistol. Checking its load, and then weighing it in his hand as he decided he would take it with him. There may be dogs he thought, as he fitted its silencer.
His eyes roved over the contents of the bag as he made a last minute check of the tools of his trade, field glasses, long cable ties, a half dozen short pieces of cotton rope and a roll of wide duct tape.
He jammed a lead shot filled waddy into his back pocket and put the sandwiches he’d bought at the roadhouse, along with his canteen into the bag. A final check saw that the car cover was secure before he walked toward the buildings beyond the bush in the distance.
An old tree with even shade, whose heavy roots protruded from the hard ground provided some cover, and he settled upon a thin layer of its leaf debris where he had a good view of the house.
The dusty blue car was in sight.
As he played the field glasses over the area around the house and sheds, he heard a motor start. A moment later an old truck drove into sight from behind the horse stables.
Even with the field glasses it was difficult to make out the driver; the f
act he could not see a wide brimmed hat suggested it was probably not the man he sought.
The old truck drove on the road leading towards town and disappeared amongst the trees. It returned around mid-afternoon and he watched as a wiry man lifted a cardboard box and a gas bottle from the vehicle. He was lost to sight for some moments as he carried them to the rear of the house, before reappearing again to make his way to the horse stables.
It was quiet all afternoon with no movement except for the wiry man who spent his time feeding and exercising horses.
Scott ate some food, and then spent the rest of the afternoon squashing ants as they crawled on him, or swishing flies. His gaze at times followed kangaroos as they passed nearby on their way to the river for their late afternoon drink.
In the evening the dusty blue Ford left and took the road towards town.
Simon and his wide brimmed hat stood out, and Scott hoped he wouldn’t stay away too long.
By now the wiry man had left the horse stables and had moved to where he’d left the gas bottle. Scott watched as the wiry man poked a rod into the container on the gas bottles stove top, removed it, and then poked it into a plastic bucket.
The wiry man had obviously been out in the sun too long he thought, and as he grew weary with watching him, he put the field glasses down and rubbed his eyes.
Sometime after sundown, he left the place amongst the tree roots and made his way over the last few hundred metres to the house. On his final approach he heard an engine start and suddenly lights came on. He realized the motor must be a lighting plant. Good. That will cover the sounds of the dogs if they start to bark, he thought.
The wiry man walked from the shed where the noise of the motor seemed to come from, and returned to his place by the gas bottle. Where it was easy for the stalker to approach from the wiry man’s rear, and let the waddy fall firmly to his head.
The wiry man fell forward with a flailing right hand. It upset the gas bottle, causing the tin pot which had been heating on its top to hit the pool surround. Spewing its contents of liquid wax in a wide fan on to the cooling concrete where it quickly solidified.
The intruder applied cable ties to Ray’s wrists and ankles, before slapping a short piece of duct tape over his mouth.
As he dragged him into what appeared to be a feed shed, a sound caused him to stop short and listen.
Suddenly a light came on in the house, and he quietly cursed his lack of professionalism as he realized there was someone he hadn’t accounted for.
He bundled Ray into the feed shed and made his way around the side of the house, to where he found a window. He looked through it, and saw a tall woman with long reddish curls of hair that reached for the base of her back. He ran his eyes over her with interest.
She had good shoulders and a trim waist.
He liked what he saw.