Read Online The Blue Ring by A. J. Quinnell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A. J. Quinnell
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense
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you want?"
Suddenly Creasy's voice became brisk and businesslike. "Do you have a Colt 1911?"
Leclerc nodded. "Always."
"I need three extra mags."
Leclerc nodded.
"I also need an SMG, small and easily concealed. Like an Ingram 10 with a folding butt."
"I've got them," Leclerc said, "but I also have something better. Very new.
Perhaps you haven't seen it." He stood up and moved to one wall of the
office. It was panelled in oak. He pressed a hand against a panel and slid it
to the right. A huge wall-safe was revealed. He worked the combination lock,
pulled open the heavy door and took out several metal boxes. Creasy also stood
and watched as Leclerc opened them. One box contained a Colt 1911. Creasy
picked it up and felt the familiar grip and then replaced it. He then looked
into the other box and asked, "What the hell is that?"
With
satisfaction Leclerc replied, "That's brand new. It's a miniature SMG made
by Fabrique Nationale, it's called FN P90. It's very different. The body and
magazine are made of plastic and detachable from the other metal
components." Quickly he disassembled the weapon. It took only seconds.
Then he reassembled it and handed it to Creasy, saying, "It's only as long
as your forearm, but it will pierce body armour at one hundred and fifty
metres. It's superior to any NATO rifle or compact SMG."
Creasy
was impressed. The weapon was very easy to conceal, using a shoulder-strap
under a jacket or coat.
It was as if Leclerc was reading his mind. "I can get you a shoulder-strap and a
suppressor, which is a little bulky but fits under the other arm, also on a strap."
Creasy nodded. "I also need a silencer for the Colt."
"No problem. What else do you need?"
"Four frag grenades, and four phosphorescents and the webbing to sling them. Also a
pair of goggles against the phosphorescents, and, yes, three pairs of handcuffs."
"No problem," Leclerc said, making a note on his pad. "I can also arrange
a practice session with the SMG down at my warehouse. Being light it's got quite a kick."
Creasy
shook his head. "I don't have time. This afternoon I have to do a recce,
then I have to make my move tonight. There is one other thing which you may or
may not have. Do you remember, last time you supplied me with the components to
make a very small, but very powerful bomb using plastic explosive with a tiny
detonator and small remote control? Good for up to a couple of hundred
metres?"
"I
remember," Leclerc answered. "And I remember reading in the newspaper
what you used it for in Italy. Not a nice way to send a man to hell."
Creasy
shrugged. "He was not a nice man. Can you get it for me?"
Leclerc
picked up one of the three phones on his desk, punched a number, listened for a
moment and then spoke rapidly in French, listened again, then asked Creasy,
"Do you want it assembled or in components?"
"In
components," Creasy answered. "I'll assemble it myself."
Leclerc
spoke again into the phone, rapidly and persuasively. Then he hung up and said.
"The components will be delivered here at six p.m. together with the other
stuff. What else do you need?"
Creasy
pondered for a moment. "I need a safe hole and a good fast car, which is
clean and has a green card and all other documentation for crossing borders
within Europe. It should be fully fuelled with a few hundred extra litres in
cans in the trunk. The car may not be returned, so cost it in. Both the hole
and the car should be stocked with easy rations for three people, for three
days. You know the drill."
Leclerc
made notes on his pad and said, "No problem. Your safe hole will be an
apartment in the same block where I have my penthouse. I own the whole block,
but no one knows that. The local BMW dealer's a friend of mine. I'll get a good
second-hand car from him and make sure it's serviced this afternoon."
He sat
back and looked at Creasy steadily, and then said quietly, "I'm going to
repeat what I said when you were last here. We've never been friends. Apart
from
Suddenly Creasy's voice became brisk and businesslike. "Do you have a Colt 1911?"
Leclerc nodded. "Always."
"I need three extra mags."
Leclerc nodded.
"I also need an SMG, small and easily concealed. Like an Ingram 10 with a folding butt."
"I've got them," Leclerc said, "but I also have something better. Very new.
Perhaps you haven't seen it." He stood up and moved to one wall of the
office. It was panelled in oak. He pressed a hand against a panel and slid it
to the right. A huge wall-safe was revealed. He worked the combination lock,
pulled open the heavy door and took out several metal boxes. Creasy also stood
and watched as Leclerc opened them. One box contained a Colt 1911. Creasy
picked it up and felt the familiar grip and then replaced it. He then looked
into the other box and asked, "What the hell is that?"
With
satisfaction Leclerc replied, "That's brand new. It's a miniature SMG made
by Fabrique Nationale, it's called FN P90. It's very different. The body and
magazine are made of plastic and detachable from the other metal
components." Quickly he disassembled the weapon. It took only seconds.
Then he reassembled it and handed it to Creasy, saying, "It's only as long
as your forearm, but it will pierce body armour at one hundred and fifty
metres. It's superior to any NATO rifle or compact SMG."
Creasy
was impressed. The weapon was very easy to conceal, using a shoulder-strap
under a jacket or coat.
It was as if Leclerc was reading his mind. "I can get you a shoulder-strap and a
suppressor, which is a little bulky but fits under the other arm, also on a strap."
Creasy nodded. "I also need a silencer for the Colt."
"No problem. What else do you need?"
"Four frag grenades, and four phosphorescents and the webbing to sling them. Also a
pair of goggles against the phosphorescents, and, yes, three pairs of handcuffs."
"No problem," Leclerc said, making a note on his pad. "I can also arrange
a practice session with the SMG down at my warehouse. Being light it's got quite a kick."
Creasy
shook his head. "I don't have time. This afternoon I have to do a recce,
then I have to make my move tonight. There is one other thing which you may or
may not have. Do you remember, last time you supplied me with the components to
make a very small, but very powerful bomb using plastic explosive with a tiny
detonator and small remote control? Good for up to a couple of hundred
metres?"
"I
remember," Leclerc answered. "And I remember reading in the newspaper
what you used it for in Italy. Not a nice way to send a man to hell."
Creasy
shrugged. "He was not a nice man. Can you get it for me?"
Leclerc
picked up one of the three phones on his desk, punched a number, listened for a
moment and then spoke rapidly in French, listened again, then asked Creasy,
"Do you want it assembled or in components?"
"In
components," Creasy answered. "I'll assemble it myself."
Leclerc
spoke again into the phone, rapidly and persuasively. Then he hung up and said.
"The components will be delivered here at six p.m. together with the other
stuff. What else do you need?"
Creasy
pondered for a moment. "I need a safe hole and a good fast car, which is
clean and has a green card and all other documentation for crossing borders
within Europe. It should be fully fuelled with a few hundred extra litres in
cans in the trunk. The car may not be returned, so cost it in. Both the hole
and the car should be stocked with easy rations for three people, for three
days. You know the drill."
Leclerc
made notes on his pad and said, "No problem. Your safe hole will be an
apartment in the same block where I have my penthouse. I own the whole block,
but no one knows that. The local BMW dealer's a friend of mine. I'll get a good
second-hand car from him and make sure it's serviced this afternoon."
He sat
back and looked at Creasy steadily, and then said quietly, "I'm going to
repeat what I said when you were last here. We've never been friends. Apart
from
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