Chapter 44
Block paved, tarmac footpath either side, the cul-de-sac, in Hulme, Manchester, was home to three blocks of terraced three-storey townhouses overlooking the rear of some tiny detached homes sheltered by a tall privet hedge.
Inside, peering cautiously through the gap in the curtains, she could make out a man; skull cap and short beard. In his hand, what looked like a small parcel. It could be Radek but, in the darkness of the path, she couldn’t be sure. Down the stairs, standing away from the door, she called, “Who is it?”
A low, foreign voice replied, “It’s Azil, Radek sent me. I have your money and passport.”
She came closer. “I thought it was going to be tomorrow?”
“He can’t make tomorrow that’s why he sent me tonight. It’s up to you. I don’t give a shit.”
“Hang on, don’t go.” She opened the door.
He shot her in the chest, four times in quick succession, sending her backwards onto the floor. Stepping in, he pushed the door closed with his left hand, stood over her and fired another three. One in each eye and one in the forehead.
He slipped a new mag into the weapon, applied the safety then, together with the empty, stuffed it into his leg pocket. Lights off, he closed the door behind him as he left.
On the playing field behind, the close target recce guy walked casually across the grass towards the far corner where a car patiently waited for him. For thirty minutes he’d sat in the garden, plotting her moves.
A vehicle stopped at the entrance to the street, the driver leaning over to open the passenger door. The gunman got in, took the weapon from his pocket, removed the suppressor and put them in the compartment behind the glove box.