precisely. ‘Mr Penrose sent me to bring you to the United Nations.’
‘Oh. Huh. Y’know, I was kind of hoping to go home first. I’ve had a long couple of days.’ She had attempted to sleep on the flight, but despite her exhaustion from the chase in Rome her rest had been fitful. And now Penrose probably wanted to drag her into another lengthy meeting with senior UN officials to explain how death and chaos had followed her to two foreign capitals . . . ‘Well, guess not,’ she said, on the chauffeur’s silence. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
She waited for him to take her luggage, but instead he started to turn away before halting, as if belatedly remembering that his duties extended beyond simply driving a car. ‘May I . . . take your bags?’
‘You certainly may.’ Nina relievedly passed them to him, then followed him through the concourse.
He led her to the sprawling parking structure beyond the AirTrain light rail station. Nina stifled yawns on the way. Fortunately, her chauffeur didn’t seem inclined to be talkative.
The chauffeur had his own reasons for not wanting to engage her in conversation. Large amongst them was that he was not actually a chauffeur.
His left arm nudged with every step against the gun concealed beneath his jacket. He was sweating, the perspiration due in varying degrees to the weight of the bags, the wig and false moustache he was wearing to shield his identity from the airport’s surveillance cameras, and the enormity of what he was about to do. He was no stranger to violence, but straight-up assassination was something new and troubling.
He knew it had to be done, though. He had complete faith in his boss, and if Harald Glas said that the innocent-looking redhead was a threat to the entire world, he believed him.
She was famous, wasn’t she? Some kind of scientist. Pretty, too, for an egghead . . .
He forced himself not to think about her. All he had to do was get her into the back of the blacked-out limo, then draw the gun and fire. Three shots to the head would do it. She wouldn’t even have time to be scared.
They descended through a stairwell. He had parked in a quiet corner with limited CCTV coverage – the limo was sound-proofed and his gun silenced, but anything unusual could still attract attention. A couple of people passed them on the stairs, but neither gave a second glance to a driver and his passenger.
His heart began to race as they reached the lower level. The limo was a long dark shape in the concrete gloom about fifty metres away. He headed for it, the gun hard against his ribs.
‘Jeez, could you have parked any farther off?’ said Nina, trying to hold in another yawn. She had expected her ride to be waiting near the terminal’s entrance with the buses and cabs.
The chauffeur mumbled a vague apology, then opened the rear door for her. She climbed inside. ‘Thank you.’ He didn’t acknowledge her, instead closing the door and putting her bags in the trunk. Nina checked her watch. If the traffic were favourable, she might reach the UN in around forty minutes. No telling how long Penrose’s meetings would drag on, though . . .
The trunk lid slammed. The chauffeur walked back to the driver’s side door. He opened it, but didn’t immediately get in, instead reaching inside his jacket with a gloved hand.
Turning away to make sure his target couldn’t see what he was doing, the assassin drew his gun. He started to enter the limo—
Someone hit him hard from behind, smashing his face against the edge of the roof.
Nina jumped as a loud metallic bang echoed through the limo. The driver was struggling with somebody—
She glimpsed a gun as the two men fought.
Jesus! It was a carjacking!
She tried to open the door – and found to her horror that the handle refused to move. Child-locked. The other door was the same. She stabbed at the window switch to lower it, but without the key in the ignition the mechanism was inert.
The driver slammed against the limo’s side, his attacker delivering a punch to his stomach before grabbing his arm. The gun clacked against the rear window. A thwat as it fired, the bullet hitting the concrete floor and ricocheting away with a whine. Another shot, and a car’s windshield shattered, setting off the vehicle’s alarm.
The chauffeur struck back, and the other man lurched away. The gun came up – but