Thief

By Greg Curtis

Mikel had a good life. As the world's greatest thief he had all the wealth he wanted, though since his need were modest, he gave most of it away. And as he stole from organised crime, he felt no guilt over the act. He celebrated it. Best of all, no one knew of him. No one even knew he existed. so he was safe on his island paradise.

Then one night in the middle of a caper an angel came to take him away from all that. She needed him to steal some souls.

From Hell!

Any sane man would have said no. He shoul have said no. But how could you refuse an angel?

And after all, it would be the crime of the century!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Greg Curtis
• Release date: Mar 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301074877

Greg Curtis

Greg Curtis is the name of a hopelessly boring, middle class, sci fi loving nerd. He was born in New Zealand, land of the long white cloud and small flightless birds and grew up in the city of Wellington, renown for its high winds and the almost magical ability of rain and sleet to be lifted off the street and blasted into one's face. After eighteen years of suffering the cold and wet, he was finally blown away in a particularly bad storm to settle far away as a student at Massey and Otago Universities. He was intered there for more years then most would ever admit to. Then when the universities finally pronounced him done he became an overqualified and underpaid worker in the health sector - aren't we all! Greg has lived in the city of Rotorua, one of the very few places in the world where people have actually chosen to reside beside active geysers and breath air that reeks of sulphur, for the past seventeen years, working by day for his daily bread, and toiling away by night on his books. When not engaged in his great passions of reading and writing science fiction and fantasy, drinking strong black coffee (some call it tar), and consuming copious amounts of chocolate (dark naturally), he lives a quiet life of contemplation as the high priest to his two cats. Greg worships them with regular gifts of food, occasional grooming and by providing them with a warm dry place to sleep. They in turn look down upon him with typical feline disdain, but occasionally deign to bring him gifts of headless vermin - as a warning. In a desperate bid to understand the meaning of his life, he has recently started studying philosophy, particularly metaphysics, and has finally come to a startling conclusion. God must be a cat! Cheers and be good or don't get caught.

Book preview

THIEF. GM CURTIS. 290

THIEF

GREG CURTIS.

Greg Curtis.

Copyright 2010 by Greg Curtis.

Smashwords Edition.

Dedication.

This book is dedicated to my mother Ruth Curtis and my sister Lucille Curtis, my biggest supporters, harshest critics and all round cheer team, and without whom this book would not have been written. It’s also dedicated to my father Allen Curtis, gone too soon but not forgotten.

CHAPTER ONE.

"The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand;

The angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone."

~George Elliot:

Ohh Shit!

The words, hissed as quietly as they had been, were never the less forcibly ripped out of him by the shock of discovering the apparition in front of him. For there floating mere feet in front of his eyes was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - with wings attached.

Not that there was anything wrong with the wings, there wasn’t. They were perfect. Large, gorgeous, covered in the whitest, softest, most luxurious plumage he had ever laid eyes on and gently beating in graceful arcs. It was the fact that they were attached to a woman who was floating, hovering, flying – well something like that, directly in front of him, hundreds of feet above the ground. A woman glowing with her own golden radiance, and smiling serenely. Then again, maybe it was the smile that shocked him most.

Instinctively he made to rub at his eyes, and only lightening fast reactions saved him from certain death, as he grabbed once more for the oh so terribly thin wire that suspended him thirty stories above the unyielding concrete below. The sides of buildings, the star filled sky above and the street far below all streamed past his wildly blurred vision as he spun crazily out of control.

For panicked seconds that lasted an eternity it was all he could do to just regain his balance in the harness. The sounds of the cars and the people so far below echoed quietly to him, while his heart thundered in his chest. Images of his blood soaked body smeared over the concrete pavement danced in front of his eyes. Not for the first time he wondered about the wisdom of his career choice given his pronounced fear of heights.

Eventually the wire stopped shaking, as did he, and his mind returned to the moment. The disciplined thief was once again assuming control. Almost by reflex he felt for the comforting weight of the pouch around his belly, and thanked his lucky stars for its presence. Fifty million plus in stolen diamonds was a lot to splash down on the pavement for the locals. It could run a major hospital for a year, or fifty schools and their many thousands of students.

Loot safe, wire taut, grip secure and with a new sense of purpose – if only to get out of this place alive, he risked a glance forwards to where the apparition had been, daring to hope it had gone. Surely it had never been. It couldn’t have been. He’d simply been blinded by the lights of the city so far below or the stars above.

His wish wasn’t granted. It - she - it was most definitely a she, was still there, hovering easily mere feet in front of him, thirty stories above the ground. If anything her smile had grown, and he knew she was telling him that he couldn’t get rid of her that easily. He had the distinct feeling she was gently laughing at him, though in a very understanding way. At least he didn’t make the mistake of rubbing his eyes again. His hands wouldn’t let him, as he felt his knuckles tighten unbearably on the thin wire. He might have gone mad but at least his hands knew they had a job to do. They had to hang on. They didn’t want to die.

Mikel hung there for the longest time, staring at her from his upside down perspective while she in turn stared back at him, the faintest of smiles gracing her perfect face. At least he thought it was a smile. Being upside down tended to upset his perspective somewhat, but it didn’t look like a frown. Her face could never know a frown.

The silence stretched, with neither venturing to break the moment. In fact he didn’t want to. But eventually someone had to.

Ahh, I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to letting me pass Ma’am? For she was floating almost directly in front of him, between him and the safety of the next door building, twenty long feet away, and while she might have wings, he most definitely didn’t. He couldn’t quite get past her without pushing her aside, and he didn’t think confrontation would be a good thing given the vulnerability of his situation. She had wings while he had but a single wire to keep him off the ground. Besides, something deep within him was telling him he didn’t want to touch her. It would be improper.

For an answer she floated, glided away – (there were no words to describe how perfectly she moved), granting him the passage he so desperately needed. Without a second’s hesitation he grabbed at it, arms aching from having hung too long and too tightly to a thin steel wire and began pulling himself to safety as fast as they could. Hand over hand he concentrated on the movement, drawing himself along quickly, the pulley wheel moving smoothly with all his weight on it. It should; he’d spent enough time lubricating it, making sure the mechanism moved freely.

In less than a minute he was once more in the apartment, hanging upside down only a couple of feet above a soft mattress placed upon a wonderfully solid floor. He pulled the release lever and collapsed down onto it, infinitely grateful for the feel of something solid underneath him. Lungs, for so long held in check, started breathing once again as the demands of his body finally caught up, and he found himself gasping for the dirty, foul smelling air that was this city’s calling card. It was suddenly the most wonderful thing he’d known in weeks.

As he lay there thanking every deity known to man, none of whom he’d ever believed in, the woman glided smoothly in through the huge double window that he’d especially refitted to the skyscraper apartment, and hovered gently over him, smiling. There was no doubt anymore; she was really there.

As he lay gasping he found the presence of mind to study her anew, and from his new perspective confirmed what he had already seen and rejected as completely insane.

She was beautiful. Impossibly gorgeous, stunningly ethereal and yet somehow earthy at the same time. Her face was delicate, almost elfin yet with no sign of weakness. Tiny as she was, he suspected, - no, he knew - she’d have the strength of the highest tensile steel alloy. Golden hair flowed down to her waist, in gently cascading waves. Pale gold skin covered her arms and face while wondrously white flowing robes hid everything else, except for her bare feet. Even her feet were beautiful he realized in awe. Every single toe perfectly formed, proportioned as though by an artist, and not an overgrown toenail in sight. If any feet should never have to touch the ground then these were they.

Of course there was also the fact that they didn’t touch the ground. She hovered there above him, on those incredibly white wings. Impossible as that was, impossible as they were. They were enormous and yet for all that looked as light as a feather. They were covered in beautiful white feathers, held together with what looked almost like clouds. In some way the wings were insubstantial and yet they were also solid. He could see the bones and tendons moving underneath as they flapped so very gently, stirring the air like a fan.

She glowed, as though her very skin radiated light impossible as that might be. A warm golden light bathed her completely, and filled the tiny apartment, casting warmth every where it touched, and yet strangely cast no shadows. He didn’t want to think about the countless physical laws that broke. Though in staring at her he really didn’t want to think at all. He only wanted to stare.

Eyes of the deepest and purest blue stared back at him, and on a horribly deep level he knew that they saw far more than his facial features. She saw everything about him, his life, his sins, his very soul. From her he could have no secrets. It seemed wrong to want to. But deep down inside that was simply unacceptable to him. His entire life was a secret. He would have objected if he could have found the presence of mind. Instead he just stared back.

In age she looked to be in her early twenties, but something told him she was far older. Her eyes spoke of timeless wisdom and grace, yet there was still something childlike and innocent in them. Playful and serene at the same time. Like everything else her eyes were both a contradiction and an impossibility, yet he could have dived into their limpid azure with very little hesitation.

Above all else this creature, this woman radiated love. It was in the warmth of the air that glowed about her, it was in her stare, her smile, and it was in him, much as he wanted to deny it. She loved him, he knew it, and despite his disbelief, a massive part of him craved nothing more than to lay down at her feet and bask in her love. An overwhelming part. Try as he might he found he could not break free of her spell. He could not want to break free.

Time passed, his breathing slowed and finally evened out, his heart stopped thumping so loudly in his chest, his hands stopped shaking, and the aches and pains disappeared, and yet still he did nothing but stare at her. For the first time in his life he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Or anything else he might want to do, ever. He knew he could drink in her beauty for eternity and still not quench his thirst. He could bathe in her love without end. But that wasn’t permitted. Not for him, and eventually that understanding returned to him.

Wisdom or years of ingrained paranoia and cynicism finally prevailed and once again he broke through her spell of golden silence, instantly regretting the harshness of his merely human voice as it tripped over his tongue, but knowing it had to be.

Who are you? Yet even as he asked he knew the question was a lie, a denial of truth. He knew who she was, or rather what, but he refused to accept that knowledge even from himself. There was a word for creatures such as her, but a word that said so much more about the world than his own meagre understanding of it could allow. A word that implied things he hadn’t believed in since childhood so many years ago. A word that spoke of beliefs he had abandoned even as a young child. Beliefs that had abandoned him even earlier. He put aside the question not wanting to hear the answer.

What do you want with me? However painfully, the silence had been broken by his first foolish question and it allowed him to think again. To once more resemble the thinking creature he’d always considered himself. To ask the questions that needed to be asked, and that was the question that most desperately needed to be asked. After all, she wasn’t just with him by chance. She hadn’t simply been floating out there in the night sky and come calling by on a whim. He knew that. She wanted something.

For an answer she just smiled, a smile that began with her mouth and then wrapped her whole body up in it, and caught him in it as well. A smile that somehow communicated in a way that no language could. For without her ever having uttered a single word he knew that there was something she wanted him to do. That she was surprised at him even asking the question considering what he did for a living. The moment he saw her smile, he intuited that she wanted him to steal something. It didn’t make any sense at all, but he knew it was so.

His confusion ran deeper than that, however. He didn’t understand how he could know what she wanted when she still hadn’t uttered a single word. Yet at the same time, a part of him deeper still wondered only why he didn’t understand the oldest and most fundamental form of communication. The language of the soul. To say his mind was in turmoil would have been an understatement. The questions were boiling within him, fighting to be released, and each one just raised more. His well ordered thoughts had become chaos and it was all he could do not to simply cry out his confusion.

Mikel couldn’t even begin to guess what he could possibly steal that an angel might have a use for, and he had no concept of why an angel would want him to steal at all. Theft? She should despise the very act. She should despise him too. Yet he knew she didn’t. Incredibly, she loved him without reservation, and that was all that mattered. Once more he found himself slipping under her spell, sinking without trace until nothing was left, his doubts and his questions disappearing into the void that was his mind, and he couldn’t seem to stop it. He couldn’t seem to want to stop it.

The sound of voices broke him out of his trance, and for a moment he was both grateful for them and annoyed. Then he became worried, as he remembered why he could hear them.

Voices, coming from the speaker by the door in his apartment, could only mean that there were people in the room he’d just looted He’d dropped the bugs behind him for exactly that reason, to warn him when that room would be empty or not, and that was important.

He couldn’t understand their words for some reason. It was as though they were speaking gibberish, but regardless he knew exactly what they were saying. They’d discovered they’d been robbed, the open window and empty safe a certain sign. He understood the anger in their voices, the need to find the culprit. Their desire to kill the thief. In his mind’s eye he could see them making for the open window, looking out along the steel cable swung between the rooms which should no longer be there, seeing in to his apartment, seeing ….

Reactions, slowed from the series of shocks he’d just encountered returned to super-charged life. His mind, once again alert, he knew exactly what the goons would see. More importantly, he knew exactly what they’d do. A vision of bright red blood covering her white silk shift invaded his mind and filled him with horror.

Ohh God!

Adrenaline burned through him like never before, and he launched himself directly up from the floor at the angel, glowing serenely above him. Barely having made it to his feet he threw himself at her with every ounce of power he could find. A flat diving lunge that gathered her waist in his arms and carried her safely away from the open window, just as a hail of bullets ripped through the air were she’d just been floating.

It wasn’t a soft or an easy landing, and his shoulder took a hammering against the hard floor, breaking their fall, but at least they were alive, or as he suddenly realised, he was. Terrified at the thought of what he might find he frantically probed every inch of her for any sign of injury, and then breathed again, a sigh of relief. She wasn’t even scratched, though he suspected she might have a few bruises from their landing. She’d taken the impact as well as him on the hard cold floor. Still he didn’t feel bad about it. A bruised backside was infinitely preferable to a bullet and they were still whizzing by above their heads, while the concrete wall shielded them.

Stinging pains across his back made themselves known to him, and he realized he’d been shot, at least one bullet having grazed his shoulder blades. It hurt but it didn’t feel bad enough to worry him. Especially not when he knew the thugs would be coming to finish the job soon, very soon. While their friends kept firing at the window, keeping them pinned down, more would be on their way with guns. Mikel’s normal cool and calculating mind, finally released by the adrenaline rush, returned to burning hot life in an instant.

Immediately he reached for the little radio control unit on his belt, pushing the first few buttons. Buttons he should have pushed ages ago but hadn’t, lost as he was in her spell. Still there was no time to beat himself up about things that couldn’t be changed.

A series of small popping sounds told him they’d worked, and a sense of relief washed over him. They were safe – at least for a few minutes. The first explosion resulted from the other end of the wire being released from the wall via a tiny explosive charge. That meant they couldn’t be followed, assuming that anyone else would crawl across a wire thirty stories up. Even angry criminals had their limits. The other explosions indicated that the smoke, percussion and tear gas grenades he’d left behind had detonated, filling the room with blindness, chaos and confusion. But only for a few brief moments. It would be enough to stop the goons from shooting at them, though he could still hear the sounds of gunfire coming from across the way as they shot randomly into their own apartment. Still, he knew that their friends would be on their way.

We have to go. Now!

He shouted the words at the winged woman lying prone underneath him, having somehow briefly forgotten her in his sudden burning need for action. They’ll be here very soon.

And they would. Even now he knew, they’d be staggering out of the room, coughing and spluttering, but still shouting to more of their fellow thugs who’d soon start running for the high speed elevators to the ground, and then across the street to this building. He could see them in his mind as clearly as her face in front of his eyes.

Damn! He cursed himself. He should have had far more time. He’d counted on at least half an hour between rounds by the guards. Ten minutes across, open the safe, remove the diamonds and cash, leave the evidence and scoot back. Which meant he’d spent at least twenty minutes staring up at the angel like a stunned mooncalf. How he asked himself, could he have just lain there, staring? But there was no time to berate himself about it. They had to leave, fast.

Without a moment’s hesitation he leapt to his feet, and then was startled to find he was still holding the angel in his arms. For some reason his arms hadn’t been willing to release her. That too was a lie. He knew the reason. But there was no time to worry about that. No time for anything at all but the need to flee.

Panicking a little, he tried to explain the urgency to her, but choked when he saw the look in her eyes, trust. She had no idea what was going on, or why they had to leave. She was too innocent for that. Nor did he have the time to explain. But somehow he saw in her eyes that she had no fear, simply because she trusted him to do the right thing. With a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach he understood she had placed herself totally in his care.

It was a responsibility that rocked him down to his toenails. No one should do that. Not to him. One minute he was a thief, the next he was totally responsible for the life of an innocent. And he knew there was no way he could ever let her down and live with himself. Easier to commit suicide. Better too, far better. Her safety was a crushing responsibility but there was no way to avoid it. He simply had to save her or die trying.

Desperate and with absolutely no time to explain his actions, Mikel carried her to the door like a baby, briefly startled at how absurdly light she was. Surely part of it must have been the raw adrenaline coursing through his veins, - but not all. Yet that too was something to wonder about later. For now he simply had to flee, and so did she. If she objected to his man handling of her he never heard it in his mad rush. Nor would he have listened.

The locked door instantly swung open at his touch and he sprinted down the corridor to the elevators while the rest of his preparations came to mind. Time to cover his tracks and a add a little misdirection. Actually a lot of misdirection.

He punched several more of the buttons on his belt’s controller unit, setting an incendiary and several acid smoke devices off in the apartment they’d just vacated. Despite the sudden wallop of noise that seemed to echo through the floor under his feet as they exploded, it was safer than most would expect. The walls of the apartment had been reinforced and then covered with an asbestos cladding just for this purpose, and the sprinklers would activate in time. All it would do would be to remove all traces of him from the room. Fingerprints, body fluids and even the blood he’d just lost would be cooked beyond recognition before the sprinklers on their delayed timers started up and washed the residue away. Of course he was probably still loosing blood as he ran down the corridors. Enough to be spotted, traced? There was no way of knowing and no time to worry about it.

A second button ensured that the building’s four lifts had now all stopped coming to the floor, except of course for one. That should really confuse them, and he laughed silently to himself as he thought of their confusion. Every time the thugs punched for the thirtieth floor they’d actually find the twenty-first, although the indicator would say thirty. In effect the thirtieth was now missing along with the thirteenth of most American high rises. In fact all the floors from the twenty second to the thirty ninth were off limits to the lifts. But would the thugs be bright enough to realize? There in lay the danger. Thugs were not noted for their intelligence. But he had that covered as well.

One lift of course he had set to bring them down safely, the one lift that had been out of order for the entire day, much to the annoyance of the other residents of the apartment block, while the repairmen had been kept away. Perhaps they’d forgive him if they knew what he’d just done. If they knew how much good would come of this night’s work. Then again, he suspected, most of the residents would really want nothing more than a cut of the take. He’d learned long ago that greed is a very human trait, maybe the most human. Fortunately if he did his work well, they’d never find out. He always did his work well.

He quickly bundled the angel into the waiting empty lift and pushed the button for the sub basement, a high speed, non-stop express ride. He chuckled under his breath at the thought of them staring at the signs on the ground floor, seeing the lights indicating this lift was permanently half way between the ninth and tenth floors, and then taking the other lifts to everywhere but the correct floor. And all the while he and the angel would just descend silently, straight past their pursuers who’d never know.

Next the residents. It was time to make sure of their safety too. It was all very well making a clean getaway, but leaving others to face the wrath of the gun totting thugs in his place was unacceptable. He prided himself on preparing for this eventuality in every single operation. Thus far no one had ever died in his stead, nor would he ever permit such a disgrace.

Mikel activated the security systems he’d put in place on every single one of the building’s fifty seven floors. Bluff as much as reality, the warning systems began their screaming, no doubt causing wide spread chaos and panic but keeping people safe. The speakers were now advising every one on every floor that security cameras were operating and to stay in their apartments as gunmen were loose while the police were on their way. Meanwhile a mild sedative was rolling through the halls and stairwells. The lifts themselves were gushing out a much more potent one.

Those few of the gunmen that made it out of the working lifts, would be desperately hiding their weapons and trying to look innocent, until they too collapsed. He laughed quietly at the thought of the gunmen snoozing their way to jail. Pleasant dreams followed up by a miserable wake up call. Everything they deserved and at least the beginning of justice for their victims.

A sudden awareness entered his thoughts and he jumped as he realized he was still holding the angel in his arms. As before his traitorous limbs had again failed to let go. In fact his arms were around her – he didn’t want to think what they held. Hastily Mikel released her and leapt backwards in the lift like a scalded cat, embarrassed, confused, and – something else he didn’t want to admit to himself, ever.

I ah, that is ah… His power of speech suddenly seemed to have deserted him even as he rediscovered English, and he looked everywhere but at her. But only for a brief moment, until his highly practiced survival instincts took over once more. Fear was a marvellous teacher, and for once he truly had reason to be afraid. She was in his care. They might be hidden but they were still deep in enemy territory, and perhaps soon to be under fire if they weren’t careful. They weren’t out of the woods yet and there were still things he had to do to make sure they did get clear.

Mikel punched several more buttons on his belt, activating the engine of his Lotus and getting it to drive itself to the lift exit where they’d get out, while also locking down the parking level and turning off the security cameras. No point in leaving themselves open to attack while walking to the car across a darkened parking floor. Another button activated a tape recorder which placed a frantic 911 call to the police, claiming gun shots in the building he’d just robbed. A major police presence arriving on the scene ought to slow up their pursuers, not to mention panic their boss, who had an enormous amount to hide. More than he knew actually.

Another smile crept towards Mikel’s mouth and he quickly suppressed it. Pride was a dangerous emotion. It led to overconfidence. But still he had done well. The best part was still to play. The police, as soon as they’d entered the mobster’s suite would hear more shots, pre-recorded naturally, and break in to the safe room to find oodles of blood everywhere. It was fake blood of course.

Immediately they’d call for forensics and seal the room, which was exactly what he wanted them to do. Because the moment they examined the room they’d find the vast amounts of incriminating evidence about China Meringa, which he’d carefully left for them. Photo’s, bank records, written statements, taped conversations, and even some of his evil white powder. The mob boss shouldn’t have kept it in his safe. Mikel had done everything but join the dots for them. And legally it would stand scrutiny no matter how many lawyers the mob hired. The police were responding to an emergency call, and had probable cause. The evidence they would find was all legitimate and undeniable. Mr. Meringa would be lucky to get out of jail before the next ice age.

A job well done.

He congratulated himself on another job well done even as the lift door finally opened and the Lotus sat there directly in front of them, engine running, doors unlocked. And then with some horror, he realized he might have been just a tad too hasty as he looked anew at the angel and the car. Sure she might only be average height, say five six or so, but those wings extended way over her head to perhaps seven feet, before folding and dropping back almost to the floor in a single graceful span. There was no way she’d fit in the tiny sports car.

Mind spinning like a top in the sudden panic, he quickly found an answer. The only answer. Steal a car. It was the only way. Take somebody else’s own car; something he was loath to do as he didn’t steal from innocent people, and pray nobody found out until much, much later. He wondered if she would understand.

Still there wasn’t any choice, and they both knew it. Soon the police or the goons would arrive, neither being noted for their tolerance of thieves. He couldn’t be here, and he had to bring her with him. Without understanding why he knew absolutely he had to bring her with him.

Before he had a chance to even begin to panic however, the angel solved his nightmare herself. She ran to the passenger’s side of the Lotus, pushed the seat all the way back and dived face forwards on to it. Did she understand the danger they were in after all? Or was she just trying to help him out of a tight spot? He had no time to ask. Amazingly the angel somehow fitted into the tiny space. It was tight though. Even with the seat pushed all the way back like a cot her wings barely fit between the rear window and the front passenger’s foot well.

Mikel hurriedly gathered her wings into the door wells, carefully shut the door on them, hurdled the small car’s bonnet and lowered himself into the driver’s seat. Even for his more humanly proportioned, though admittedly over-large frame, the car was a squeeze. For an angel it was surely as close as she could come to a straight jacket. It should be a living nightmare for her. The loss of the freedom of the sky in exchange for the convenience of a tin can on wheels. It was just wrong.

But looking across at her he still saw that same expression in her eyes, complete trust. Without any good reason, she believed in him totally. She knew he wouldn’t let her down. He would get her out of this he promised the heavens above silently; he had to.

We’ll be OK. He said it as much for his own benefit as for hers. He was trying to bolster his own confidence, badly shaken by the terrible number of mistakes he had already made in a single evening, and that the fact that her appearance represented both a bulls eye painted on his back, and a weight around his neck. The angel would stand out like a sore thumb, and be harder to bear than any dead albatross. Yet he could not fail her. In response she just smiled again, and he literally had to look away before he fell once more under her power. Even looking away, he could feel her smiling. Could that even be possible?

Mikel didn’t have time to think about the impossibility of it all, as he pushed his foot all the way to the floor, and the car took off like a rocket, which was of course why he’d always used the Lotus as his choice of getaway car. The relatively small turbo charged engine made it the equal of any other car in its class, while its light weight and massive tires gave it a tremendous edge in acceleration and handling.

He’d never needed the awesome abilities of the Lotus before, the benefit of good planning, based on a desire to live a long life. But he’d long ago made it a rule never to stint on safety. You only get one shot at life, and if the worst had come to the worst he didn’t want to be caught dead in a slow coffin, literally. This time however, his planning while good, had been more than a little upset by the angel’s arrival. He was at least twenty minutes behind schedule, and to cap it all, the angel had been seen, if only to shoot at. Mikel simply had to hope he didn’t need the car’s awesome performance.

Leaving the underground car park sedately; he had to calm his nerves and drive normally if he was to pass by unnoticed, he saw the first of the police arriving, and knew they saw him. But despite his terror they passed him by, the sight of an angel in his passenger seat apparently not enough to stop them in their duty. Of course they didn’t have time to stop him now, they were on their way to an emergency in the next building, moving so fast they surely hadn’t seen her. Why would they care about some rich yuppie in his sports car with a winged woman, when lives were on the line next door? But that wouldn’t stop some of the more alert of them taking down his license plate details for later. Which was all well and good as he reminded himself. The plates would lead the police to another local crime family, one of the triads, whose number plates he’d carefully forged. Should be a hot time in the old town when that came