Adrenaline Pumping

Chapter 12: "Like clockwork"

It was eleven forty-four pm.

The great hall was filled with men in expensive suits and women wearing the most beautiful of dresses. People milled in and out of a huge doorway which lead to the torch-lit garden. Waiters in white shirts and red waistcoats ran to and fro, darting between clusters of individuals, with one hand holding a tray with drinks and the other behind their backs.

There was also a second floor which looked out over the first, in an open-plan sort of way. This one had a bar and was dotted with small tables. Most of them were occupied by either couples or groups of people, mostly chatting away the evening or in the case of one particular table, having a laugh. 

But at the far end of the room, at the very last table, this wasn't so. A man sat quietly in his chair, looking out over the hall below him. He had waxed brown hair, a straight nose and a small mouth. He looked bored, sitting so motionless, not a word emerging from his lips.

Four men entered through the garden doorway and made their way steadily through the crowd. Two of them were white and another was middle-eastern-looking, all three with the same dark suits as all the other men. The fourth was a short little man, with grey hair plastered back and a worried look on his face. He walked at a quick pace, looking indeed very nervous and certainly not happy. The man at the table watched as they crossed the hall and arrived at another closed one to the left of the entrance. Just before they disappeared through, the darker-skinned fellow looked up at him, making direct eye contact and nodding ever so slightly. He looked at his silver rolex. It was exactly a quarter of an hour to midnight.

The individual took a sip from his vodka. Brilliant stuff, he had to admit. Abruptly, somethig caught the corner of his eye. There was a woman a few tables away, contemplating him. The pair exchanged a look before she got up and came over to his table.

"Bonsoir, monsieur." she greeted. Her voice was calm and shallow.

"Ah, you speak French." he answered back in the same language. "The language of love. Just as well, you know. I'm afraid I would have been struggling otherwise. My German is... not good."

The lady gave a small grin. Her dark hair was styled into a curly, fancy tail that swayed every time she moved her head. Her skin was smooth and pale, her blue eyes gleaming strong, and she had the reddest lipstick the man had ever seen. She wore a violet dress that reached way past her knees, flirting with her ankles.

"Gosh, she is stunning." he thought "The proportions of her face are so... perfect."

"May I...?" she began, signalling to the seat opposite him.

"Please, be my guest." he nodded in return.

She giggled, sitting down.

"What?"

"You have an accent. English, oui?"

"Right you are. I'm a bit rough, to be honest. Haven't spoken much since I got here." He shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's okay. We can speak English, you know. Most people here in Basel do, anyway." she affirmed, switching languages.

"Wow. Um, sure."

She sighed, looking out over the hall. "I was in the UK once, you know. Briefly."

"Really, where abouts?" he wondered, looking at his watch.

"Glasgow. I also took a trip to Edinburgh. It was great."

"Oh? Yeah, Edinburgh is... nice. So if you don't mind me asking, how do you speak English so well?" he asked, taking another sip.

"My husband." 

The man tried hard not to choke on his drink, and with his face red, nodded. The lady continued: "He is a businessman. He invites everyone he can to our house for dinner, mostly americans. So over the years, I have been improving, I guess. I'm Marie, by the way, I'm sorry I forgot to introduce myself. And you are..."

"Oh, yeah, me too. It's... Sebastian. Sebastian Blake."

"Well, nice to meet you, monsieur Sebastian."

"Likewise. Do you want a refill? Herr Ober!" he signalled for the waiter to come, and Marie  ordered for them both.

After they had done so, Sebastian gave a sharp look at the huge clock on the wall. It was five minutes to midnight.

"So." began Marie. "What part of England are you from?"

"London."

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm from Paris. I had lived there most of my life, until we moved here. What brings you to Basel, monseiur Sebastian?"

"Business." he nodded.

"What sort of business, may I ask? Sorry for all the questions, but I'm just so bored. My husband practically forced me to come to this stupid ball. Forgive me, if I'm being too... oh, what is the word for it? Ah yes, direct."

"No. No, not at all! These sort of things can drag on for ages, I get you. I work in car sales. A division of Porsche. My superior (or boss, if you like) was invited here, and he wanted me to tag along. Not sure why, to be honest."

Marie smiled, looking at him curiously. Sebastian felt as if he was being studied by her. He didn't like it. He gave another quick glance at his watch; it was five to.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

He looked up with a jump "Doing what?"

"Looking at the time. Are you in a rush?"

"No, no, just um, waiting for my boss to finish, w should be leaving soon I guess."

"Oh? Lucky. Which one is he? Your boss, I mean." she inquired, looking out over the mass of people below.

Sebastian vaguely pointed to a fellow at the far side of the room, mumbling something or other about him being hard to spot. Marie abruptly burst out laughing, taking him by surprise. She sat there, giggling for almost as much as a minute.

"I beg your pardon, but what's so funny?" he finally piped up with a confused look.

"Sorry... it's just that.... I wanted to see how far you would go." she panted, her tail swinging wildly. "I knew you weren't telling the truth from minute one. Remember, monseiur Sebastian, I am the wife of a businessman, so I can spot a lie when I see one."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rolling his eyes, as she continued.

"Hey, don't worry, I don't even care what you really work as. Punaise, you could be a street boy that snuck in here, for all I care."

The clock on the wall struck midnight, and Sebastian looked out towards the door to the left. Seconds later, the three men that had gone in there before now re-emerged, this time without the fourth. One of them looked up at him, and nodded for the door as they started to make their way through the crowd. Time to go.

Sebastian go up and proceeded to head for the stairs, but Marie stopped him with one hand.

"A pleasure, monseiur." she smiled, stuffing a piece of paper into his jacket pocket. "I am free tomorrow at noon. Perhaps..." She nodded towards the paper, but he walked away, his cheeks reddening.

He found the others as soon as he stepped outside, and together they walked away down by the river at a steady pace.

"Job done?" Sebastian asked, his gaze lost in the horizon.

"You can be sure of it". answered another, casually tossing a Glock 19 with a supressor attached into the cold Rhin.

The group of four didn't even look back when sudden screams echoed out from the party. They just kept walking, all the way to the closest pier, before hopping on a speedboat and sailing along, off into the night.