OLD FRIENDS AND NEW BEGINNINGS

By Amy S.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR: I loved ‘Proof of Life’ after finally succumbing and watching it goodness knows how many years after it was actually released – There’s something fun about Dino’s character that got me hooked. So here we go, a quick (ok so not quick exactly) fic set a couple of years prior to the movie that will hopefully cover a few points bought up in the film like where has Dino met Arturo Fernandez before, why he left Luthan Risk, oh and that birthday party involving Terry jumping out of a cake.

So anyhow – there’s a warning here, the language and violence is…not exactly hugely offensive, but a bit more, erm, edgy than I’ve written in other fics – you can’t say you weren’t warned! (Also, the author extends her apologies for her Spanish.)

Chapter 1 – Mexico

“What the fuck was that all about, mate?” Terry Thorne spat as he swung himself around the door frame, his back slamming against the wall and lifting a small cloud of dust into the air with the force of his movement. Gunfire erupted in the aperture where he’d been standing just milliseconds earlier. He ran a hand down his body just making sure that he was still in one, un-perforated piece, and that the hostile fire hadn’t forced him to do a passable impression of a colander.

Dino, who had adopted a similar position to Terry but on the other side of the doorway, shrugged. “Fourth of July?” he quipped as he released the empty magazine from his handgun, letting the spent container fall to the ground with a clatter, although the sound was lost in amongst another spray of gunfire that exploded in a shower of bangs and flashes in the doorway. A couple of the bullets bit sharply into the wood frame less than ten centimetres from Dino’s face, sending a cloud of splinters raining down.

“Seriously, mate, what the hell did you say to piss ‘em off so much?”

Dino pulled a new, full magazine from his belt and slammed it into the gun housing, hearing it load with a crisp snap.

“Less what I said, more what I did, I guess.” He lifted the gun to his eye level and looked down the length of the barrel, pulling the slide action back before letting it snap into place. Pulling a bullet from the newly installed magazine into the chamber, he concurrently pulled the firing pin back and readied the weapon to spit its deadly load out of the barrel as soon as he put the slightest pressure on the trigger.

Terry waited for him to elaborate on his statement, and when no more information was forthcoming he dared to expose his arm to enemy fire for the briefest of seconds and shoved Dino on the shoulder.

“Dino, spill.”

“So I won the pot in a poker game. Hey, just because they don’t wanna pay up, not my fault.” He shrugged.

“Jesus, Dino, you played poker with these guys? You got a fuckin’ death wish or somethin’? No, don’t bother answering that, I got a pretty good idea.” Terry ducked his head back further into the shadows as more bullets came blasting through the door. The pause in the conversation brought a thought spinning into his mind. “Just tell me you didn’t try and hustle ‘em.”

Dino looked across to the other side of the doorway to where Terry was concealed and raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck, Dino, you scammed ‘em, didn’t you? And suddenly I’m not surprised we’re being shot at.”

“Yeah, well they’ll get bored soon enough and go away…”

There was another rat-tat of a stream of bullets hitting the outside of the structure, accompanied this time by some curses in Spanish. Both men were fluent linguists and didn’t like the words they were translating.

“…Or maybe not,” he continued, now starting to sound a little sheepish.

“Y’know, Dino, every now and then I’d like to complete a deal and actually be able to go back to the damn country without fear that I’m going to get my ass nailed to the wall by someone you pissed off the last time we were there. You are seriously reducing my travel options.”

“Yeah, but then you’d just keep going back to some third-world shit-hole all the time. It’d get boring. I’m giving you the gift of variety.” He turned to face Terry, hands open, palms up (as much as was possible while still holding a 9mm pistol) as if offering him a gift, but was instantly forced to slam his body back against the wall as a bullet missed him by millimetres.

“These guys are seriously starting to piss me off, mate,” Terry quipped, watching his friend’s reflex kick in as he threw himself back against the thick wall again in order to avoid the projectile.

“You and me both, man. On three?” Dino grinned as he spoke, and not for the first time in their working partnership Terry wondered how the hell Dino could enjoy these petrifying moments so much.

“On three,” Terry nodded in agreement. “…One…”

“…Two…”

“…Three.” They both shouted the last number together before rolling round the door frame, planting both feet in a firm stance and emptying their clips into the small group of men that was gathered outside. Most of them ducked behind makeshift shelters, although one or two gave a groan and clutched extremities as bullets hit flesh, emitting small clouds of blood-red mist. Efficiently, Dino and Terry quickly rolled back inside the shelter before the remaining men had a chance to regroup and fire their own weapons in retaliation.

“Did you see what I just saw?” Terry threw the question across to his partner on the other side of the doorway.

“Short range M224 mortar system? Hell, yeah.”

“Time we left the party?”

“Sure, honey, I’ll just get my purse.” Dino pulled a tear gas canister off his belt as he spoke, ripped the pin out with his teeth and hurled the canister out the door. Both men adopted a slightly crouched position that would allow them a quick getaway as soon as the device began to disperse its distasteful contents. Sure enough a few seconds later there was a small dull bang as the canister detonated, sending a cloud of tear gas in amongst the renegade group. Terry and Dino didn’t hang around to appreciate the violent coughs and splutters of the crowd, putting their previously assumed stances to good use and sprinting to the back of the abandoned building. As they used the erupting white gas cloud to mask their escape, Terry yanked open the sturdy wooden door at the back of the structure and Dino hurled himself out of the opening, instantly meeting a man with a rough appearance, who looked like he was in serious need of a bath. A red bandana tied around his head held his filthy black hair out of his face.

“You…” But that was the only word he managed to say before Dino’s elbow made violent contact with his nose.

“Yep. Me,” Dino grinned evilly as he looked down over the figure now squirming on the floor, blood running freely from his nose. “Y’know, I was always told it was bad form to kick a man while he’s down, but hey, it’s not like you’re gonna think less of me, is it?” He launched his size twelve army boot into the soft flesh south of the guy’s stomach, ensuring that any romantic entanglements that this creep had planned for the near future would have to be put on hold. The kick elicited another, deeper, groan, one that if you’d merely been watching from the sidelines would have made your eyes water. Dino turned around to find Terry grappling with another, equally-unwashed miscreant who seemed to be trying to gouge out his friend’s eyes.

“Ah, to hell with this shit!” Terry muttered, and brought his right knee swiftly up to connect with his attacker’s balls.

His opponent let out a grunt and sank to the floor, curling into a fetal position as soon as he hit the dusty ground.

“And you say I fight dirty?” Dino called over.

“You do fight dirty. Me? I’m a gentleman unless they force my hand.”

“Or in this case your knee.”

Terry pretended to give it some thought before nodding his head.

“True. Let’s just get out of here before backup arrives.”

They both jogged over to an open-top jeep that was concealed behind a stack of wooden shipping crates a few metres away. Grabbing onto the exposed roll-bar framework of the khaki-coloured vehicle they vaulted themselves over the sides of the jeep, sliding down into the smooth seats without opening the doors.

“I always wondered why you insisted on hiding the car when we get sent out to these places.”

“You never know what kind of criminals are roaming around.”

“Mostly you’re the worst criminal roaming around.”

“Hey, I’m offended.” Dino pulled a mock hurt expression, but failed to hold it for long, his face breaking into a wide grin. He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the driver's side door pocket and smoothly slipped them on. Turning the key in the ignition, he revved the engine, letting off the brake just in time to send the jeep’s wheels into a squealing spin as the rubber tried to catch up with the speed of the wheel’s rotation, producing a cloud of dust behind them as the vehicle shot forward. Dino drove the jeep around the corner of the building they’d been sheltering in minutes before and found their group of attackers still recovering from the effects of the tear gas. He pulled the vehicle into a tight turn right next to them, letting the back wheels lapse into a short slide, sending another cloud of dust spraying over the men.

“Whoooo-yeah!” Dino yelled, laughing, a spray of gunfire erupting around them as the jeep lurched forward, bouncing over the rocky terrain on their way to finding the main road.

Chapter 2 – Hell Birds

“So how much did you make off the poker game?”

“Not much.”

“Dino, how much?”

“Enough to buy us a night out when we land our next contract.” Dino shuffled in his seat and reached into the back pocket of his pants. When he brought his hand back out he had a roll of bank notes settled in his palm that Terry guessed must have been about two inches thick.

“Jesus, Dino, no wonder they were pissed.”

“Here.” Dino tossed the roll of money to his friend. “You better look after this. You know what I’m like with money.”

“Depends where we are. In a bar you’re as tight as a duck’s arse, mate. When there’s women involved, you’re practically giving the stuff away.”

“I am not as tight as a duck’s arse. What the hell does that mean, anyway? Aussie bastard.”

“Yankee asshole.”

They looked at each other and descended into laughter.

Twenty minutes after they’d roared out of the aldea they’d found the main road, although from Dino’s perspective the dirt track they were travelling along looked pretty much like the rest of the surrounding landscape. He snorted.

“What?”

Terry tilted down the sunglasses that he’d slipped on as they’d left the little village in a cloud of dust. “What d’ya mean, ‘what’?”

“You snorted.”

“I was just thinkin’ why’d we always get sent to these crap-holes? Why don’t we ever pull the juicy locations, where’s the sun, sea and…”

“…sand?”

“Actually I was going to go with bikini-clad babes, but if you’re gonna go all traditional on  me…”

“You’d do better sticking to sand, mate. You don’t need another ex-wife to deal with.”

“Good point. The one I got’s already bleeding me dry. But seriously, last month it was Gauteng, the month before that it was Namibia and now, we’re stuck out in the arse end of Mexico. Why isn’t it ever Florida or Hawaii?”

“Probably because there’s not a huge call for kidnap and ransom experts in Florida or Hawaii on account of there not being a big kidnapping business. You moron.”

“I’m just saying is all.”

“Just keep your eyes on the road.” Terry glanced down at the tatty map on his knee. “Where the hell are we going, anyway? The airport’s about two hundred miles in the opposite direction.”

“Thought we’d have a change of scenery. All this K&R business has made you go soft, pal.”

Terry raised his eyebrows, but stayed silent wondering what the hell Dino had got planned. It was never a good sign when Dino took it upon himself to plan anything. It usually ended in either a loud argument or, as had most recently been illustrated, gunfire.

“Called in a favour from some old friends who are in the area.” He tilted his own shades down and winked at Terry, before pushing the sunglasses up his nose again. In what Terry suspected was a ploy to stop him from asking any more questions, Dino leaned down and stabbed at a button on the radio with his finger. Instantly Terry’s head was forced back with the sheer volume of the rock music blasting out of the jeep’s speakers. He looked over at his colleague, who was now playing air guitar, no hands on the steering wheel despite the fact that they were rapidly approaching what felt like the speed of sound. Terry leaned over and yanked the wheel back, thankfully ensuring the jeep narrowly missed colliding with a boulder roughly the size of  a cow.

Finally, after they had endured fifteen minutes of the loudest music known to man, Dino leaned down again and switched the radio off. Cautiously Terry prodded a finger in his ear, checking to see if his eardrums had ruptured at any point. There was no blood to be found and he breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that all the signs suggested he’d regain his sense of hearing at some point in the near future.

“Here we are!” Dino declared with a flourish of his hands.

“What d’you mean? Where’s here? I don’t see anything.”

Dino pointed out across the bare landscape. At first Terry didn’t see a thing, then as they gradually approached (no that wasn’t right, ‘gradually’ wasn’t a word in Dino’s vocabulary) Terry adapted his train of thought...as they approached at a thunderous speed a grey object became visible, a grey object that got clearer the closer they got…

“Jeez, is that a Hercules?”

“Yeah, C-130H Hercules, wingspan of nearly forty metres and capable of reaching speeds of over three-hundred and sixty miles per hour at twenty thousand feet. Just look at the big beautiful bitch!”

The aeroplane was undeniably imposing. From his past SAS experience Terry knew that the    C-130H was a four engine turboprop cargo aircraft capable of short take-offs and landings on rugged, unprepared runways. This one probably belonged to the United States Air Force, or possibly AFSOC, Air Force Special Operations Command. The question was…

“What the hell is a Hercules C-130H doing out here in the arse-end of nowhere?”

“Giving us a ride home,” Dino grinned.

He pulled the jeep to a halt by the side of the aircraft and honked the horn, a noise which brought a line of faces poking out of the cargo hatch at the back of the plane. One of the faces exited the plane, attached to the rest of a body clothed in army fatigues.

“Dino! You pussy, it’s about damn time you showed up. How y’doin?”

Dino pulled himself up using the jeep’s roll-bars until he was standing on the seat.

“Fuckin’ brilliant. Drag your specials ops asses over here and meet a good friend of mine. This here’s Terry Thorne, ex SAS and the second best K&R expert in the business, second only to me.”

“You fucking wish, Dino,” Terry called up to him, a wide smirk on his face.

“So how d’you know Dino?” Three of the Hercules crew had come to sit by Terry as he sat back on the incredibly uncomfortable cargo plane seats, which in reality were nothing more than wooden planks with a thin layer of camouflage netting draped over them. The aircraft had taken off shortly after the pair had arrived at the apparently pre-arranged location. You couldn’t exactly call the place a runway. All it was was a desolate piece of desert, but that was all that the Hercules crew had needed to put the huge metal bird back into the sky. The take-off wasn’t even that bumpy. Terry had endured far worse in his days with the British forces.

They had to shout to be heard above the four gargantuan engines that were currently pushing the plane through the atmosphere at about twenty-thousand feet at a speed of just over three-hundred miles an hour. Terry had been introduced to the three special ops commandos by Dino, who had greeted the trio as long-lost brothers, and whose names Terry had been told were Angel, Turkey and Bird Dog. God, he loved the military’s love of ridiculous nicknames. It was Angel, whose forearms had been turned a blue-ish grey colour with the sheer amount of tattoos that covered his skin, that had asked the question.

Terry hooked his hand around his ear to signal that he hadn’t quite heard. He didn’t think his hearing had been fully restored since Dino’s rock music in the jeep and the loud droning from the plane’s engines wasn’t helping matters. Angel leaned closer, repeating his question directly into Terry’s ear.

“So how d’you know Dino?”

“Joint intelligence operation between UK and US forces a few years back. I’m ex-SAS,” he revealed, poking a thumb into his chest to enforce his point. “Dino was working with the US army special forces at the time. We ended up partying our way through a political shit-storm in Chile, spent a few months living in each others pockets and found out that both our military contracts finished at about the same time. Anyhow, when we eventually got out of Chile we were both recruited to a new K&R firm, ‘Luthan Risk’ to train as liaison specialists. Just haven’t been able to get rid of him since.” Terry glanced over to one side of the cargo bay where Dino had flung himself into a makeshift hammock that was hanging from metal loops in the fuselage, his leg hung over the side, swaying rhythmically with the motion of the aircraft. The only sign of life was the occasional grunting snore that came from under the cap that covered his face. He couldn’t understand how Dino could manage to sleep. Terry had never been able to sleep on the long haul flights with the SAS, constantly psyching himself up for the upcoming mission. Dino, though, was another kettle of fish, thoroughly relaxed until the very last second and able to sleep on a knife blade.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“What about you guys? Where’d your paths cross with my…”

Dino let out a well timed and particularly loud grunt in his sleep, a grunt that challenged even the plane’s engines in audibility, interrupting Terry’s question.

“…I was going to say ‘esteemed colleague’, but perhaps ‘socially inept’ would be a better choice of phrase?”

The trio surrounding him laughed.

“Oh, Dino served his time as a ‘Hell Bird’.” Angel tapped his cap badge, indicating that ‘Hell Birds’ was the nickname for the Airborne unit they were attached to. “The freak just loves HALO jumps.”

HALO jumps, or High Altitude-Low Opening jumps to give the technique its full title, was a military term for the deployment of personnel from an aircraft at twenty-five to thirty-five thousand feet, requiring them to free-fall to a height of just a couple of thousand feet before opening their parachutes. It took a certain kind of man to enjoy HALOs, namely the slightly- deranged, thrill-loving type, and Terry could see that the description fit Dino perfectly. Terry had done his fair share of HALO jumps in his career, but had never particularly enjoyed them, viewing them merely as part of the job, a means to an end. He’d always preferred the hand-to-hand combat part of the job rather than hurtling towards the ground at high speed, forced to gamble the continuation of your life on the hope that someone had packed your chute right.

“I got a lotta respect for the F.O.T.” This time it was Bird Dog that spoke up.

Terry didn’t ask him to explain what an F.O.T. was. He’d heard it before when he’d been stationed alongside American troops. It stood for ‘fucking orange thing’ and was undoubtedly a reference to Dino’s mane of red hair.

“The man saved my life on a jump once. Got the suspension line tangled with the risers, couldn’t get the chute release to work so I could deploy the reserve. I’m tellin’ ya when that happens at two-thousand feet it’s time to start shitting yourself, man. Dino just appears from nowhere, freefalling right alongside me, knife held in his teeth. I swear he looked like a flying Rambo.” Bird Dog laughed at his own turn of phrase. “He cut the cords and pulled the ripcord on my reserve. Like I said, the man saved my life.”

“Plus the guy’s a party animal, loves liquor and las chicas. Never a better time than when Señor Dino está en el ciudad, heh?”

“Did someone mention chicas?” Dino tilted the cap that was covering his eyes up with a finger, looking at the group out of one barely open eye.

“Well, welcome back to the land of the conscious, Dino. Did anyone ever tell you that you snore like a fucking pig?”

“Yeah, I think someone mentioned it once, Angel.” Dino grinned and the pair began to laugh.

The guy nicknamed Turkey leaned over and explained the joke to Terry.

“Last op we worked together we were pretty short on space, Angel and Dino had to share a bunk. We were all woken up at about three am one morning by Angel trying to suffocate Dino by ramming one of his army boots down his throat.”

“Hey, you try working a three-week mission with this prick,” he pointed at Dino, “snoring down your ear every time you try to get some sleep. I’m telling you it was like sharing a bunk with a fucking water-buffalo.”

The group descended into laughter and spent the next few hours relating humorous moments from past ops they’d worked and frequently taking the piss out of Dino, who took the whole thing very well, joining in and poking fun at himself.

Suddenly the engines took on a different sound, the pitch of the droning had altered, informing the men in the cargo bay, whose senses were all finely tuned in to the varying sounds of the aircraft, that they were rapidly coming in to land. Terry and Dino joined the rest of the crew, strapping themselves firmly into the harnesses that lined the sides of the cargo space. Terry had to admit that he didn’t miss the discomfort of the military life. The K&R business paid well enough for him to fly business class most of the time. Perhaps Dino was right, perhaps he was getting soft. But then an image flashed across his mind, a mental picture from the last case they’d taken for the company. He held his hand out, palm up, and flexed his fingers studying the digits as his brain showed him a private slideshow of his actions in Gauteng Province last month as he’d stuck his short hunting knife into the side of a kidnapper’s throat and ripped a hole straight through his neck, severing his esophagus, jugular vein and carotid artery in one powerful stroke. Then as he twisted his opponent’s head, he'd felt his spine snap cleanly. Just one more kill for his tally. Terry wondered idly if he’d ever have to face St. Peter at the pearly gates and provide sound reasoning why he had no choice other than to kill all the people he had. Then again, perhaps people like him didn’t deserve to enter the gates of Heaven.

Dino sat opposite his friend, strapped tightly in his harness, watching Terry flex his fingers, forming a pretty good idea what he was thinking about at that moment in time. His lips pressed themselves into a thin line. A conscience was a valuable thing; it helped you make the right decision, but Dino silently worried that Terry’s conscience might one day lead them both into trouble and wind up getting either of them killed.

Barely half an hour later the group were uncoupling themselves from the strong harnesses. The landing hadn’t exactly been smooth, but then again you didn’t really expect it to be in a Hercules. Almost as if a smooth landing would defy the very butch raison d’etre of this hefty beast of a plane.

Terry blinked a few times in the bright sunlight as he stepped onto the baking hot tarmac of the British military base. He turned to see Dino extricating himself from a manly, one-armed hug with Bird-Dog, who sent a rough punch into Dino’s shoulder as he broke away, doubtless a retaliation for some obscenity that Dino had tossed in his direction.

“Thanks for the lift, guys. Hey, we still on for Cuba?”

“You bet your ass, Dino. We’ll see your sorry hide in Ciudad de la Habana, boy. The first round’s on you.”

Dino flipped a one fingered salute in response before breaking into laughter and turning to face Terry.

“So where the fuck are we?” Dino asked, a smug grin on his face.

“What d’you mean, where are we?” Terry was a little confused by the question, Dino had arranged the drop off ,after all.

“Well, it can’t be British soil cause the sun’s shining. Every time I’ve visited this rock it’s been pissing down with rain. I came to the conclusion that the sun had some major issues with the UK and decided to boycott it.”

“Believe it ,Yank. It’s the Sceptred Isle, beautiful England.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Well, we’re not scheduled to meet the bosses until tomorrow afternoon. Your piggyback on a US military plane bought us a fair bit of time. I want to get down to Eton, visit my lad.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dino looked a little crestfallen to find that he’d be alone for the afternoon. But a thought crossed his mind and he instantly perked up. “Hey, Terry? Eton’s in Berkshire, right?” He produced the word ‘Berkshire’ in an exaggerated English accent and raised his eyebrows. “There many chicas around Berkshire?”

Terry just laughed.

“One-track bloody mind.”

Chapter 3 – Mission Statement

Twenty-four hours later Dino emerged from the back of a black hackney carriage in the centre of London and Terry had to laugh at his friend and partner.

“What the hell’s so funny?” Dino growled quietly. He’d spent the previous day, night and several of the earlier hours of the morning making an admirable attempt to drink the bars of Eton dry before travelling down to central London. Now, though, he was suffering from a huge, thumping headache which he was desperately trying to conceal from the world around him.

“You are.”

“Why’m I suddenly so funny?”

Terry just looked him up and down. For this formal meeting with the top brass of Luthan Risk, Dino had managed to peel himself out of his usual attire of either army fatigues or jeans and a leather jacket and had actually pulled on a suit. His expression revealed that he was less than impressed by this necessity. Dino had combed his usually flyaway red hair in an attempt to tame it, although a few tufts were starting to rebel and were sticking up at odd angles at the back of his head. There was also a slight red tinge to the skin of his neck where Dino was constantly fidgeting with the tight shirt collar.

“Never mind, my mistake – you look the picture of professionalism.”

“Fuck off!” Dino growled again, making sure his curse was quiet enough not to be heard by the crowds of businessmen that mingled around them, and gave Terry a light punch to the shoulder.

Terry spun away from a second fist that was headed in his direction and grabbed the chrome handle on the plate glass door, dropping into a low bow as he pulled it open.

“Shall we proceed, o mighty K&R expert?”

“That’s better. About time you showed your superior some damn respect.” Dino walked through the door with head held high, a mock snobbish expression plastered on his face, although it didn’t last for long as he broke into laughter a few steps later.

Terry and Dino had been ushered into the plush conference suite ahead of Ian Havery, co-founder and current CEO of Luthan Risk. They took a quick glance around the room, making mental notes of the wooden-topped conference table whose surface was so smooth and highly polished that it gleamed and reflected the surrounding décor as if it were a mirror. All the seats arranged around the table were the plush leather kind, not imitation, and both men noticed how as soon as they’d crossed the doorway into the room their feet had sunk about an inch into the luxuriously thick carpet. Dino did a slight double-take as he glanced at one of the pictures hanging on the wall. He raised his eyebrows in Terry’s direction, silently asking the phrase ‘you think that’s a genuine Picasso on the wall?’ Terry almost imperceptibly shrugged as he correctly translated Dino’s silent query, answering with an equally silent yet unmistakable ‘probably’. Life for those individuals who occupied the top floor offices was most definitely sweet.

“Gentlemen, may I introduce two of my best Kidnap and Ransom specialists, Mr. Anthony Paldino and Mr. Terrence Thorne.” Havery’s introduction made the two K&R operatives aware of the presence of a pair of businessmen sitting at the far end of the conference table.

Terry felt the man next to him flinch slightly as they were introduced and at first wondered just who the hell this Anthony Paldino was. He was on the verge of looking round to see if anyone else had entered the room with them when his brain started to work properly and he suppressed the urge to slap himself for his moment of general stupidity. It was so rare to hear Dino’s full name that it sounded strange and unfamiliar, the formal, every day moniker just didn’t suit the more-than-average man standing at his side.

While Terry’s mind had been elsewhere, Havery had continued with his spiel. Now he had turned towards his employees and was addressing them directly.

“These Gentlemen…” he said, indicating the two as yet unidentified businessmen. Was there something distasteful in the way he said that word? Terry thought. Was it just his imagination, or was there an element of bitter aversion in the way he had said ‘Gentlemen’? “…would like to secure our services to deal with a situation that has arisen in Tiñuega.” Terry was certain that there was a note of disgust in his voice, and again there was that bitter tone to the way he had said ‘situation’.

Terry’s mind was buzzing now, working out the conundrum and he was pretty certain from the way the hairs had started to stand up on Dino’s neck that his friend was flicking exactly the same thoughts through his equally astute mind.

“Gentlemen, perhaps you would like to explain your situation?”

One of the men rose from his seat, trotting over to the trio from Luthan Risk with a strange, uneven gait. His suit, an obviously expensive garment, was pitch black, which made both Dino and Terry instantly wonder if he had called in to secure their services on his way to a funeral. He was middle-aged, with watery little eyes reminiscent of a rodent, but the most striking aspect of his appearance was the fact that he was mostly bald although he was sporting the most impressively bushy eyebrows Terry had ever seen. It was as if the hormones that determined hair growth had all taken a wrong turn somewhere in his internal roadmap of arteries and veins and had delivered their potent message to the patch of hair above his eyes rather than the follicles of his head, causing his eyebrows to sprout uncontrollably.

As he approached, he held out a hand, an action which both Terry and Dino mirrored, accepting the proffered limb in a firm handshake. The palm was sweaty and Terry saw Dino surreptitiously wiping his hand on his trousers as their greeter took a few steps back.

“Albert Morris.” He bowed his head ever so slightly as he introduced himself, “and my colleague Mr. Achim Bernhardt.” There was no corresponding bow of the head from his colleague who had remained seated at the table, a stony and unimpressed expression fixed across his face. “It’s good to meet you, gentlemen. I have to say we’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

“All of it good I hope, Mr. Morris.”

“But of course, Mr. Thorne. But of course.” He smiled, which only served to make him look more rat-like than before. “Anyway, down to business. My colleague and myself represent a global computer firm, The Keystroke Corporation. We have most recently been working on a…er…I do have your assurance that this information will remain strictly confidential, don’t I?” He directed the question to Havery, who had now left Dino and Terry’s side and had sat in one of the nearby leather seats.

“Of course, Mr. Morris. Luthan Risk can assure you that the information you share with us will not be divulged to anyone outside this room.”

“Good, good. Where was I? Oh, yes. We have most recently been working on a top secret project for the US government to produce a vastly complex encryption algorithm for their internal communications systems. We have gathered the best computer programmers and encryption experts, ironically most of whom have served time in Federal institutions for hacking into government files. These specialists have been gathered together in Tiñuega to write the hard code that would produce the most secure encryption software the world has encountered."

Dino butted in. “Now, I might be missing the point here, but if you’re creating a programme to protect government databases against hackers is it really wise to be employing hackers to write it?”

Morris gave a chuckle. “Yes, you’d think it would be at cross purposes, wouldn’t you? But each programmer is only responsible for a minute section of code. No-one other than the senior developer knows how it all fits together and he scans each piece of work for intentionally inserted malicious coding before it is included in the software.”

Dino nodded, satisfied with the answer, but evidently still skeptical that it could actually work without any glitches.

“The programme has met with a great deal of success and to date approximately thirty percent of departments have adopted our new software. Unfortunately, about a fortnight ago our senior developer was kidnapped and a ransom demand was made.”

“He was kidnapped a fortnight ago, but you’re only coming to us now?” Dino lost his internal battle to keep quiet, earning him a glare from Havery.

“We have been negotiating with the kidnappers via another ransom specialist to secure his release. Unfortunately it seems that another, um, less amiable group has become interested in this man. A group that would doubtless like to extract the information he holds and use it to exploit the United States.”

“You’re talking terrorists.” Terry’s phrase was a statement, not a question. But Morris nodded in verification anyway.

“Yes. The K&R people we’ve been dealing with say they’ve had nothing but a week of static on the radios, no more negotiating. It sounds like they’re getting ready to trade our guy to this terrorist cell. Right now it's not about negotiating a ransom. We just need to get him out of there before the whole US Government is thrown into chaos. We’ve asked around for the best people for the job and your names came up a lot.”

“So why come to us? Why not Special Forces?”

“Because of the, ah, political situation developing in the area, Special Forces are reluctant to get involved unless it’s absolutely necessary. Actually they gave us your names. You are both ex-military, aren’t you.”

Both Dino and Terry nodded.

“Most K&R specialists are ex-military, Mr. Morris.”

“Yes, but I’m told you two were the best in your units.”

“There is a secondary option.” It was not Morris that spoke this time, but the man who had remained resolutely still at the table throughout the previous conversation. Achim Bernhardt leaned his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, bringing his forefingers to meet his chin as he spoke.

“And that would be..?” There was something in the way that Bernhardt had said ‘secondary option’ that made Terry a little wary of asking for clarification.

“If you feel that the situation is too unstable to attempt an extraction of the cargo then the alternative is to neutralize the threat that his continued incarceration presents.” The phrase had clearly been well thought out beforehand in an attempt to keep it ambiguous, although the trio of Luthan Risk personnel understood the meaning loud and clear.

“You mean if we don’t think we can get the prisoner out then our secondary mission becomes to neutralize the threat he presents by killing him.” Dino’s face betrayed the utter disgust coursing through his veins, lighting up sections of his brain and suddenly Terry fully understood why he had detected a hint of bitter distaste in the way Havery, their CEO, had introduced them to these representatives of Keystroke Corp. earlier.

“This is only a last resort, of course,” Morris, the man with the watery eyes blustered as he correctly translated the expressions on the faces of the men in front of him. His colleague, however, remained almost perfectly straight-faced, almost. Terry was sure he saw the corners of his thin lips twitch upwards in a grim smile for the briefest of seconds.

“Yes, Mr. Paldino, that is exactly what I am saying.”

“Then you’re looking for mercenaries, Mr. Bernhardt, not K&R specialists.” There was an earthy growl to Dino’s voice that told Terry he was in a very dangerous frame of mind. The kind of mood that usually led to his opponent leaving the vicinity in a body-bag.

“From what I’ve heard, Mr. Paldino, you two manage to be a little of both. Mercenaries and negotiators. Diplomacy and violence all wrapped up in one handy little package.” The smirk that crossed his face proved he was toying with them, seeing how far he could push them, testing how well trained they were.

Terry surreptitiously placed a calming hand on his friend’s arm. But Dino didn’t move, fully aware that the businessman seated comfortably at the table was just trying to provoke him. He set his lips into a tight line, refraining from further speech, afraid that if he dared open his mouth that he’d spout a string of expletives that had no place in the boardroom. Terry heard him issue a quiet nasal sound that perfectly illustrated his intense displeasure. Havery had evidently read the warning signs as well, deciding that now would be a good time to remove Dino from Bernhardt’s vicinity before he murdered their newest client.

“Gentlemen, if you will excuse us for just a few minutes I need to confer with my colleagues to get their views on whether such a mission is viable.” Havery stood from the seat he had taken at the beginning of the meeting and started to usher Dino and Terry back towards the door.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Dino flung the door to Havery’s outer office open so hard that it hit the wall with a tremendous bang and made a clear dent in the plaster. “Oh, um, sorry Ma’am.” He apologised quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment as he caught the startled squeak that his violent entrance had elicited from Havery’s secretary.

“Cynthia, why don’t you take ten minutes or so and go get yourself a cup of coffee while I chat with Messrs Thorne and Paldino?” Havery smiled warmly at the secretary in an effort to placate her.

“Yes, Sir.” She raised herself out of her chair with an incredible amount of dignity, arched her delicate eyebrow to an impressive angle and threw Dino an unimpressed look before she stalked out of the office.

“Oops.” Dino muttered.

“Oh, don’t worry about Cynthia. I’m sure it’s nothing she hasn’t heard before…or used herself, for that matter.” He paused for a second, thinking. “Actually she’d probably put you to shame in a contest of foul-mouthed diatribes. She may appear the picture of upper-class elegance but she’s an Essex girl born and bred. And, no, Dino, you cannot have her phone number.” He had seen the look of interest that instantly sprang to Dino’s face. That needed to be stopped right there, before it even started.

Havery moved through the outer office past a set of imposing wooden doors and into his inner sanctum. The inner office was a haven of contemporary interior design, calming colours, elegant furniture and high-tech gadgets. For the second time within thirty minutes Terry and Dino both thought that life for those at the top was sweet. Their examination of the room even pushed the pressing thoughts from the forefront of their minds until Havery cleared his throat, bringing them back to the here and now with a definite bump.

“Gentlemen…”

Dino’s brain picked up at exactly the place that it had left off.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hear me out on this, Dino. Normally I wouldn’t even bring this kind of project to you for consideration…”

But he didn’t get any further as Dino once again interrupted him.

“We’re not assassins! We deal with kidnap and ransom. We don’t go out to a situation with the express intention of killing the subject…”

“Dino, will you shut the fuck up!” The experience of hearing the normally calm and collected CEO swearing with such vigour served its purpose and Dino instantly fell silent. “Thank-you. I am aware that you are not assassins. Believe it or not I have actually read your job descriptions. I wrote the damn job descriptions, so don’t lecture me on what your job does and doesn’t involve, Dino.” He fixed his employee with a harsh stare and Dino had the sense to drop his gaze to his feet, his cheeks a little flushed from the reprimand.

“Sorry.”

“Can I just ask, Sir, why are you considering taking this contract?” Terry managed, with effort, to wipe the incredulous tone from his voice and phrase his question perfectly politely.

Havery, who had sunk into his large desk chair after admonishing Dino, leant forward, his elbows propped on the desk and his fingers massaging his temples.

“Because despite all their bullshit they’re right. No, not about how they plan to deal with the situation,” he added the last phrase quickly as Dino’s head snapped back up, ready for round two, “but when he said you two were the best, they were right. I’ve seen the dossier. The subject has a family, a wife and two kids. I know that you would do your very best to get him out of there alive. With the secondary option on the table from the very start how many other K&R firms do you think would actually make the effort to get him out with a pulse? It would be quicker and cheaper to just set up a sniper to kill him rather than to go through the whole convoluted rigmarole of trying to free him without a bullet in his skull. I think that if we pass this off to another firm that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

The truth of his words hit Dino and Terry like a ton of bricks. He was right, and suddenly they both understood why this had been brought forward for their consideration. Havery, noting their silence and the expressions on their faces, was pleased to see his words had gotten through to them.

“Before I ask you if you are prepared to take on this contract I must warn you that you would be on your own. Because of the secondary option as outlined by the clients, the firm cannot acknowledge any part in this mission. We cannot be seen to endorse any kind of assassination. This transaction would be strictly off the books. The client’s fee will, of course, be used to cover your expenses and then the remainder will go directly to you.”

Terry and Dino nodded to show that they understood the situation.

“I will leave you two alone to discuss whether you intend to take this contract. I think I’ll go and see if Cynthia is all right, and hopefully intercept her before she decides garroting you would be a suitable punishment.”

As Havery stepped out of the door Dino’s voice caused him to poke his head back into the office.

“Sir? If we take this contract, there will not be a secondary option.”

Havery nodded, a knowing smile on his face and continued on his path out of the office.

ON TO PART 4

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