Tidal Rage by David Evans (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

four guns, as I have three friends who want to go hunting with me as well,” Cortez replied.

“How do I know you are not going to use the guns for a robbery? How do I know you are not hitmen?” he asked in excellent English.

“If we were going to do a bank raid, it wouldn’t be in Turkey for several reasons. The main reason is we would be nuts, as your prisons are shitholes. We would pick Switzerland or Austria; nicer prisons and the police don’t shoot on sight and ask questions later. As for being hitmen, if we were professional hitmen, we would not be very good at our job if we needed to trawl bars to get some guns,” Cortez said.

“You do make some good points. Let me make a call and see what I can do,” Mehmet said, as he left the bar with the phone already to his ear.

Twenty minutes later, as Cortez finished off his Efes in the corner of the bar, Mehmet returned and ushered him outside, as the bar had become busier with locals and he did not want to be overheard.

“My cousin works in the armoury in Soke barracks. For two thousand euros, you can have four SR-25 semi-automatic special application sniper rifles. They will kill many boars, and if you don’t want to be heard, we can give you four suppressors for another thousand euros,” Mehmet said.

Cortez knew the rifle, as it was the counterpart to the American M-16. “Seems a fair price,” Cortez said, knowing they were worth much more on the open market.

“No, not buy. They are for rent for one week only. Today is Saturday, and they must be back in the armoury before the weekly stock inspection,” Mehmet replied.

“Fair enough, I’ll take them.”

“We need a deposit to ensure you give them back,” Mehmet said, expressionless. “You sign the papers for apartment. It is twenty thousand euros. You bring the weapons back you get the deposit back, less my commission on the sale.”

“And how much is the commission?” Cortez asked, resigned to being ripped off.

“Twenty percent or four thousand euros, plus an extra hundred dollars for every bullet you use. We have accessed twenty magazines and you can use the lot. My cousin can put the bullets down to training.”

“That’s a lot of money just to go hunting,” Cortez stated.

“It is if you are hunting boar,” Mehmet replied.

“Give me an hour and I will sort your cash. It is cash you want, I gather,” Cortez said, already knowing the answer.

Cortez gave Mehmet the money only after they met his cousin in the market parking lot, which was large enough for them to be isolated while they did the deal.

“We meet back here Friday at noon,” Mehmet ordered, and Cortes nodded.

If I am alive, he thought.

Cortez took it easy in the rental car back to Akbuk, as the last thing he needed was to explain away four SR-25s belonging to the Turkish army. On the way back from Stoke, Cortez made a stop at the new outlet village and picked up four large sports bags to put the guns in.

Less than an hour later he was back in the villa in Akbuk. He found Cutler at the telescope, and Shultz monitoring the listening station.

Cutler joined Cortez in the kitchen area while Shultz was filling three cups with chai, the aromatic Turkish tea. They sat around the small, round table, and Cutler noticed the four sports bags, aware of their contents.

“Why four bags, Cortez? I have already told you this is my problem to sort. This is way beyond the scope of your and Shultz’s contract of employment.”

Cortez shrugged his shoulders and looked at Shultz.

“Don’t remember getting a contract; how about you, Manfred?”

Manfred put both his hands up in the air. “No, I didn’t get one.”

“Look, I appreciate your loyalty, but we’re talking about killing a German delegate, plus anyone who gets in our way, not to mention Werner. They’re not coming out of this alive,” Cutler stated coldly.

“Well, we didn’t think you were going to give them a ticking off and ‘Don’t do it again’ speech,” interjected Manfred.

“We are in this together, no arguments. We need to start discussing how we are going to get in there unseen and out again,” Cortez suggested.

“Okay, I appreciate this, and I won’t forget it. But why four bags when there are only three of us?”

Cutler’s question was answered almost immediately as Tuck and Colton walked in through the open door.

“No party without dumb and dumber,” Tuck said as he entered.

“I must be dumb,” Colton said, “because you are definitely fucking dumber,” he said to Tuck, lifting the atmosphere immediately as they all laughed.

Tuck introduced Colton and Shultz and in return, Cutler did the introduction for Cortez.

“Sorry, Colton, thought it was just Tuck on his way over. I have only purchased four guns,” Cortez explained.

“Not a problem. I take the gun off the first fucker we come across in that house,” Colton said emphatically.

“Next time you get the guns, Tuck. Cortez didn’t buy guns, he bought a Turkish villa, and the guns were fittings!” Cutler stated, adding to the laughter.

***

Fabienne sounded strange when Cutler made the routine nightly telephone call to the Geneva office; to Cutler she seemed as if she was hiding something from him. Fabienne had accessed the drawings for the two villas earlier in the day and had sent them over a secure Internet line to Cutler. She had also obtained the security company’s drawings of the services, including telephone wires.

While Cortez was tied up in Kusadasi, Shultz monitored the conversations in German between Werner and the delegate, and each night Ghislaine would translate the recordings and produce a written transcript over the Internet to Cutler.

Although Fabienne would never admit it,