Read Online The Mark of Halam by Thomas Ryan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Thomas Ryan
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Crime, Mystery, Military, War & Military, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Conspiracies, Thrillers & Suspense, Thriller & Suspense, Spies & Politics
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machine. Zahar stood back and allowed the big man to spoon coffee grains into the filter. He added water then walked back through the door.
“I need a crap,” he said, then disappeared.
They didn’t talk much but what he had gleaned from the overweight Kosovan was that he had built a successful export business and long ago fallen out with his wife. She and the children lived in a house in West Auckland. He sent them money but never visited. She had a restraining order against him. Sami complained it was because she just didn’t like him but Zahar had little doubt he had beaten his wife. Sami reminded him of many of the villagers he’d met in developing countries where the only joy in their miserable lives was making their wives’ lives miserable. In the mind of a man like Sami his reasoning would be that at least someone was worse off than he.
During the Kosovan war he had reportedly raped and murdered Serb women, even young girls. Unsubstantiated reports they might be and Zahar had no way of verifying if they were true but from the short time he had spent with the man he didn’t doubt it for a second.
Sami had a nice home in one of the better suburbs of Auckland city. It had a gym but dust on the apparatus and Sami’s expanding frame was testament to the lack of an exercise regimen; too much food and too much cognac. He was a bitter man, although Zahar could not fathom why. He had money and a good life. He paid for women when he needed fulfilment. Sami had told him women could offer him nothing except sex so why let them invade his home and mind? He had tried it once and once was enough. A man needs to be a man. No one in a skirt would tell him what to do.
Zahar smiled as he thought it through, if Sami had all he needed, why the bitterness? He had formed the opinion that Sami was unstable. As long as Zahar was in Sami’s home he would be forever watchful.
He turned on the television to catch the news. There was a mention of two women scaring off an intruder. No names and no mention of the note and no mention of Jeff Bradley. The police were keeping it quiet. To be expected.
The New Zealand police force was proving to be wilier than he had given them credit for. They were not panicking as he had expected. Had they informed Bradley? He would have to strike again. They had left him little choice. Until pressure came from the public the police would not go public and he needed the media and police and security forces focused on him and his team.
This was one aspect of the operation that had confused Zahar and he had argued with his boss. He wanted to know why they should put themselves at risk. Every available cop and security agency in the country would be out looking for them. Auckland was a big enough city for them to stay lost in and the safe houses and modes of transport and escape routes had been established before he and his men arrived. It would have been much easier for him and his men to complete the mission without the eyes of the world on them. But Avni had said it was not for him to ask such questions. Those paying for their services had paid extra. Avni had offered a million dollar bonus to him if he did it this way. And when Avni had told him that Jeff Bradley, the man who had killed his brother, lived in New Zealand, and once he had completed his mission he could take care of the New Zealander, Zahar had accepted. But he was not about to wait to avenge his brother, if something went wrong with the mission he might miss his chance. Avni Leka did not need to know that his attacks on Bradley had begun.
The plan to leave New Zealand was already in place. One of the minders had bought a forty-seat airplane and it sat on the tarmac at Auckland airport. The New Zealand Air Force had no strike aircraft. Once airborne they would not be shot down. The escape route and flight plans were already lodged and everyone had the correct documentation for customs clearance in the countries on the flight path.
“I need a crap,” he said, then disappeared.
They didn’t talk much but what he had gleaned from the overweight Kosovan was that he had built a successful export business and long ago fallen out with his wife. She and the children lived in a house in West Auckland. He sent them money but never visited. She had a restraining order against him. Sami complained it was because she just didn’t like him but Zahar had little doubt he had beaten his wife. Sami reminded him of many of the villagers he’d met in developing countries where the only joy in their miserable lives was making their wives’ lives miserable. In the mind of a man like Sami his reasoning would be that at least someone was worse off than he.
During the Kosovan war he had reportedly raped and murdered Serb women, even young girls. Unsubstantiated reports they might be and Zahar had no way of verifying if they were true but from the short time he had spent with the man he didn’t doubt it for a second.
Sami had a nice home in one of the better suburbs of Auckland city. It had a gym but dust on the apparatus and Sami’s expanding frame was testament to the lack of an exercise regimen; too much food and too much cognac. He was a bitter man, although Zahar could not fathom why. He had money and a good life. He paid for women when he needed fulfilment. Sami had told him women could offer him nothing except sex so why let them invade his home and mind? He had tried it once and once was enough. A man needs to be a man. No one in a skirt would tell him what to do.
Zahar smiled as he thought it through, if Sami had all he needed, why the bitterness? He had formed the opinion that Sami was unstable. As long as Zahar was in Sami’s home he would be forever watchful.
He turned on the television to catch the news. There was a mention of two women scaring off an intruder. No names and no mention of the note and no mention of Jeff Bradley. The police were keeping it quiet. To be expected.
The New Zealand police force was proving to be wilier than he had given them credit for. They were not panicking as he had expected. Had they informed Bradley? He would have to strike again. They had left him little choice. Until pressure came from the public the police would not go public and he needed the media and police and security forces focused on him and his team.
This was one aspect of the operation that had confused Zahar and he had argued with his boss. He wanted to know why they should put themselves at risk. Every available cop and security agency in the country would be out looking for them. Auckland was a big enough city for them to stay lost in and the safe houses and modes of transport and escape routes had been established before he and his men arrived. It would have been much easier for him and his men to complete the mission without the eyes of the world on them. But Avni had said it was not for him to ask such questions. Those paying for their services had paid extra. Avni had offered a million dollar bonus to him if he did it this way. And when Avni had told him that Jeff Bradley, the man who had killed his brother, lived in New Zealand, and once he had completed his mission he could take care of the New Zealander, Zahar had accepted. But he was not about to wait to avenge his brother, if something went wrong with the mission he might miss his chance. Avni Leka did not need to know that his attacks on Bradley had begun.
The plan to leave New Zealand was already in place. One of the minders had bought a forty-seat airplane and it sat on the tarmac at Auckland airport. The New Zealand Air Force had no strike aircraft. Once airborne they would not be shot down. The escape route and flight plans were already lodged and everyone had the correct documentation for customs clearance in the countries on the flight path.
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