Killing Sasha Felton

Chapter 13 -- Race of the Century

Alice was pensive as she walked into the room. A phone call from Father was on her mind. Doubt, however, was tapping her on the shoulder and stopping her from joyously announcing what she would have shouted as a triumph two weeks before.

'Father wants me to perpetrate an elimination on my own. Don't shout at me again that we've already done that, with the drug dealers and the men in the car. He seems to be blind to some things.'

I couldn't remember ever shouting at Alice. After all, I was still alive, wasn't I?

'Sam, I've got a plan but there are risks involved. Father suggested it. All I can do is ask that you'll share the danger with me. Can I do that?'

'I'd risk anything for you, even my life,' I said.

'You don't seem to understand, Sam. That's exactly what I'm asking of you. One or both of us may be killed doing this job and I can't guarantee we'll eliminate one of them.' She slumped back in her chair.

'How big are the risks?'

'I can't be sure. I don't think they're huge but nothing has no risk. You understand that?'

I nodded. You can't ever account for every variable. People are unpredictable.

'My problem is that I don't want you to endanger yourself but I can't do it without you. I don't need you to do anything; I need you near me. I'm ashamed but it's true.' She stopped.

'The others are risking their lives all the time. Paul was wounded and captured eliminating Megan Whaites. I'd like to do my bit too, Alice, even if it's simply supporting you. I know I'm not much good at things that matter, but if it helps you, I'll do it – anything.'

Alice started to cry. 'Thank you, Sam. But you've got me wrong. I don't deserve you.'

I walked around and put a hand on her shoulder – my desire was to hug her tightly but I didn't dare. 'I don't deserve you but I'm glad I've got you.'

She looked up at me with teary, kitten eyes. I would have gone to hell with her, I thought. You could argue that's what I did.

'What's the plan?' I needed to get away from emotions. I'd been thinking about Beth and was feeling vulnerable.

'You found that car registration number for Jed Flack. I bought his address online. We're going to target his car.'

I asked how we could be sure he'd be the driver.

'We can't be absolutely certain but it's a hundred-and-fifty thousand pound vehicle. I doubt he lets just anyone at the wheel.'

I couldn't disagree so I listened to the plan.

At five o'clock the next morning we were striding, hoodies covering our heads and faces, along roads parallel to Bury New Road away from the city. (This made the journey much longer than it should have been because there weren't many streets that ran parallel.) Alice wouldn't walk along the main road: she wanted to reduce the chance of being caught on CCTV. And she wouldn't take a bus or taxi in case someone remembered us. I thought we were much more memorable as teenagers out walking at that time of the morning. Most would be in bed where I wanted to be.

After an hour we turned right, crossed the still-deserted main road and headed along residential streets.

Ten minutes later Alice signalled to stop. We were at the entrance to a dead-end street lined with expensive houses. It had evidently recently become fashionable because there were no garages and cars were parked on what had been front gardens or on the street.