Nobody's Heroes II: Retribution

By John Morritt

Kristina Kovac, the most powerful woman in London wants Ed Case and DCI Bob Brown eliminated. The two men thwart an attempt on their lives, but fear for the safety of their families. They believe only way they can keep their families safe is head to London and fight Kovac in her own back yard.
In London they meet up with two unlikely allies who want Kovac dead for their own reasons and form an uneasy alliance. With no plan other than to find and kill Kovac, they soon find themselves on the run but managing to stay one step ahead thanks to Ryan Jones.
None of the men trust Jones, who works for Kovac but, seems to be playing both sides. They know when things start to heat up, people like Jones will always choose the winning side. At Oakwood Farm events come to a terrifying conclusion and they discover exactly what side Jones is on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Morritt
• Release date: Nov 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005124236

John Morritt

English by birth but after 30 years of daily grind, earning money for fat cats that don't really need any more money, John relocated to Thailand to teach English. His first novel, Black Cockles was published in 2010 but was only available in paperback until now. The sequel, Nine Lives, was published in 2012. His third novel, Vengeance was published in January 2014 and the sequel to Nine Lives in due for release in the summer of 2014.

Book preview

CHAPTER TWO

Elounda, Crete

There were a lot of modifications needed to make the bistro how they wanted it, but that could wait until the end of the tourist season, which was not that far away. Frank Smith and his wife Emily decided they would close up and spend the winter months getting the place spruced up and looking like a place tourists and locals would want to come and spend time to eat and drink in.

They purchased the establishment as a going concern from the owner named Luca, half way through the tourist season, as he was suffering from ill health. Frank and Emily had been drinking there one evening and talking to Luca about purchasing a business or buying land to build one on. Luca, who had run the business through three marriages and three divorces for more years than he cared to remember, saw an opportunity to return to the mainland where he was born and still owned a property in the suburbs of Athens.

When Luca offered to sell the business to Frank, he and Emily jumped at the chance and paid him what he asked for without haggling. Luca, who inflated his asking price, expecting to be haggled down, was overjoyed. As a good will gesture he left Frank and Emily with all the stock and persuaded the two staff, sisters by the name of Maya and Sofia to stay on.

During the remainder of the high season, Emily helped out in the kitchen and learnt how to cook many of the traditional Greek dishes like, kleftiko, stifado and dolmades. She also helped out with the waitressing, while Frank concentrated mainly on the bar and taking orders, when it was quiet.

Emily once ran a pub called the Three Tuns in London, where she met Frank, who was twenty years her senior. Despite the age gap they became great friends, lovers and married in the Cayman Islands. Running the bistro in Elounda was not that different from running a pub in London, only the weather was nicer and the customers ever changing, although there were a small number of locals who came along for ouzo and backgammon. Emily often gave them free snacks to try and increase the number of local customers and entice them to purchase meals. It was a strategy that seemed to be paying off as their customer base and takings were slowly moving in the right direction, despite the number of tourists dwindling as the summer ebbed away.

Frank always dreamed of living on a tropical island somewhere, perhaps running a beach bar, spending his days mixing rum punches, chatting to bikini-clad young ladies and, perhaps, getting lucky once in a while. After spending some months in the Cayman Islands, getting married to Emily and planning the rest of their lives, they both realised the tropical island life was not for them.

After some discussion about wanting to be nearer to home but still enjoying a life in a warmer climate, Crete seemed to meet their criteria. It was only a few hours flying time from London so, should they feel the need, they could return to visit friends. Likewise, it was cheap enough and easy enough for friends to visit them.

Prior to Crete, Frank served a twenty year prison sentence for a crime he didn’t commit. He worked as an enforcer for Maurice Blair, a gangster who worked his way up to own all of South London. Maurice was ambitious and he and senior members of his organisation carried out three security van heists that netted them twenty million pounds. Maurice shot a security guard who had pulled off Frank’s mask, and left him for dead. The security guard, although badly injured pulled through and it was agreed Frank would take the fall and Maurice would keep his money safe should he be convicted, which he duly was.

The security guard was able to pick Frank out in a line-up and so Frank was sentenced for his part in the heists and attempted murder. The judge gave him twenty years because he pleaded not guilty and provided no assistance to the police to help bring the other gang members to justice.

Once out of prison, he learnt Blair had cheated and killed the other gang members to keep their share of the heists and also cheated Frank out of his. Angry at spending twenty years of his life in prison for a murder he didn’t commit, and missing out on his four million plus interest pay day, he set about bringing Blair’s empire down. He achieved what the set out to do and took Blair for twenty-four million pounds, which he shared with the other gang members he’d enlisted, with the help of his old friend Harry Winters, each netting around five million pounds each.

He also framed Blair for attempted murder and passed details of all Blair’s illegal activities, which he obtained by hacking into his laptop, onto the police. Blair went down for twenty years, and even if he won an appeal, the other evidence Frank provided would ensure he spent the rest of his life in prison regardless. As far as Frank knew that was where he was. What was once his empire was taken over by other gangs but now he heard via his many contacts in London it was all under the control of one woman, Kristina Kovac.

This evening business was particularly slow. Emily let the staff go early, deciding if any customers did come in, she could rustle up something to eat, if they wanted more than a drink. She and Frank sat drinking a bottle of white wine, enjoying the cool, late evening breeze and tranquillity of the waves lapping against the harbour wall.

They sat holding hands enjoying each other’s company; neither feeling the need to speak, content to sit in contemplative silence as only couples in good relationships could. Often when it was quiet in the evening they would share a bottle of wine and talk about their plans for the business, but not tonight.

Both looked up as a man approached and took a seat at an adjacent table.

Frank stood and went to attend to the new customer, allowing Emily a well-earned rest. He was aware Emily worked a lot harder than he did in the kitchen and waitressing, as well as behind the bar and doing most of the books. Frank wasn’t lazy; it was just down to Emily having more experience than he had in running a business. That was changing and as time went by he was gradually gaining experience and was taking a more active role. Perhaps, he thought, he might try his hand at cooking, but maybe that was pushing the realms of his capabilities too far. Frank knew his limitations.

‘Hi, what can I get you?’ he asked the newcomer.

‘Draft beer, large one, please, mate.’

Frank nodded and brought the man back a beer and a plate of salted peanuts, which he always gave free of charge. It was a nice gimmick that the punters appreciated and it always made them thirstier and could result in more beer being consumed.

‘Where’s Luca tonight?’ the man asked.

‘He sold up to me and Emily here and went back to the mainland a couple of months back. His health wasn’t so good.’

‘I guess three marriages and three divorces will get to you eventually,’ he replied.

Frank laughed.

‘It seems you knew Luca quite well. I’m Frank Smith and this is my wife Emily. We’re the new owners, welcome to Luca’s,’ he said extending his hand.

The man shook his hand and appraised the big man in front of him. His head was shaved and he found his age difficult to gauge. He was possibly in his forties or maybe much older. Whatever his age, he was in great shape, and looked like a man not to be messed with, despite his easy smile.

‘John Reynolds,’ he replied and shook Frank’s hand.

‘Here on holiday, John?’ Frank asked.

‘No, I’ve lived here a while, but I’ve been very busy lately decorating my property. I bought a place a little out of town on the road to Plaka. When I finished the renovations I thought I’d take the opportunity to do some travelling round the island. I’ve spent a couple of months driving round the island and staying at places I like the look of. Crete has a lot of hidden gems, if you have the time to explore. I’ve also been convalescing so taking the DIY slowly not wanting to over-do things. I was stabbed in London and it caused a little internal damage. I decided to get out of London and live here. I liked Luca, always good company and happy to listen.’

‘It seems we have a few things in common. I was from London and moved here to escape, for slightly different reasons, but perhaps that’s a story for another day. If you want to join me and Emily feel free, or if you want your own company that’s fine.’ Frank offered.

John picked up his beer and peanuts and sat down with Frank and Emily who Frank introduced.

‘Your name and face are familiar as is Emily’s. I have a very good memory for faces, but can’t place you.’ John said to Frank.

Frank looked at Emily and she shrugged. It was something they talked about and decided, should Frank be recognised, there was no need to keep it a secret. After all, in the eyes of the law, neither of them had done anything wrong.

Frank topped up Emily’s glass and his own. John, he noticed was into the last quarter of his beer. Frank picked up his glass and refilled it.

‘On the house,’ he told him.

‘Thanks. Are you going to tell me why you seem so familiar to me?’ John asked.

‘Sure, it’s all water under the bridge now. I don’t suppose it matters to anyone. I worked for a crook by the name of Maurice Blair back in the day. I went to prison for twenty years for attempted murder and armed robbery. I didn’t shoot anyone but was told to be the fall guy. When I got out I was gonna get my share of the fortune we robbed from three security van heists. I got out, Blair reneged on his promise and I got him sent down. It was all in the papers, no secrets.’

John thought about this before answering.

‘I remember that case last year and even Googled you. The fact you’re here, suggests to me, you got what was owed to you,’ John replied.

‘And some,’ Frank replied and grinned broadly

‘I remember following the trial in the media. Didn’t Blair say he was set up?’

‘Well, he would wouldn’t he? Anything to save his arse and his empire.’

John shrugged his shoulders.

‘If he wasn’t guilty of that; he was guilty of plenty of other things. Karma,’ he told Frank.

‘You’re absolutely right. Anyway, I’m glad I’m out of that racket now. I like to keep an eye on what’s going on in the UK, London in particular and from what I can work out, it’s worse than it’s ever been.’

‘What makes you say that Frank?’

‘Well, I remember reading that Blair’s old sparring partner in the North, Alex Brant was killed, along with the heads that ran South London, the West End and Soho. Now it’s all in the hands of a woman called Kristina Kovac, according to a mate I still keep in contact with. In my view anyone having that much clout is never a good thing. When I was in that game, it was north and south and for the most part there was always an uneasy truce that kept the status quo. If one person has the lot they can do whatever they want and in my experience that is never healthy. ’

Frank saw John Reynold’s mood darken at the mention of Kristina Kovac. Emily noticed too and looked across at Frank.

‘Have you and Kovac got history?’ Frank asked.

‘You don’t miss much do you? It’s fair to say we were once acquainted,’ John said but offered no more.

Emily, being more sensitive to moods than Frank, intervened.

‘Frank, looks like John needs another drink, why don’t you get him a refill?’

Frank went to the bar to get John a fresh pint.

‘Frank isn’t very good when it comes to diplomacy. He can be a little suspicious of people, as well as being curious. It’s nothing personal.

John smiled.

‘I understand completely,’ the younger man said.

Emily appraised him, while she waited for Frank to return. She guessed John to be in his mid-thirties, he was around six foot and was muscular but compared to Frank who was the same height, not as powerfully built. John was more athletic in his build, whereas, Frank was more like a rugby player. He was handsome but there was an aloofness about him that made Emily wary.

Frank returned from the bar and put a fresh beer in front of John

‘So what line of business were you in before you came out here?’ he asked continuing his questions.

‘Insurance. Life insurance, mainly. My last contract was very lucrative and I decided it was time to retire.’ John replied, giving the answer he gave whenever he was asked this question. It wasn’t exactly a lie but was far from the truth.

Frank eyed John up and down, unconvinced his answer was truthful.

‘When I saw you walking towards this place, you carried yourself like you were ex-army or certainly one of the armed forces. Met a lot of them in my time and they all walk upright and seem be more interested in their surroundings than non-military people. Am I right?’ he asked.

‘You’re very observant. Yes, I was in the army, but after witnessing the atrocities of war, I quit. I did a spell as a mercenary and then got into insurance. It’s a lot safer and a lot more profitable than being a soldier. But that’s all in the past. Like you, I’m looking forward to a quiet life here on Crete.’

John raised his glass and the three of them made a toast to Crete.

CHAPTER THREE

Elounda, Crete

Frank and Emily were getting the final preparations complete before they opened Luca’s for the day. During the high season they opened at 10am serving brunch but now opened at 11am and served only the lunch and dinner menu, as there was little demand for breakfast with so few tourists in town.

Frank looked at his watch and resisted the temptation to have a beer. He was never a lager drinker back in the UK, much preferring real ale, but the local beer seemed to hit the spot, probably because of the hot weather.

There was another bar owned by an Irishman who sold draft Guinness and bottles of popular ales, such as London Pride and Bombardier. Frank had tried them but they didn’t taste the same as the draft versions of the beers in the UK, and he had since developed a real taste for Mythos, draft and bottled versions.

‘Have one, if you want one,’ Emily said, recognising the look on Frank’s face.

‘Better not. I don’t want to get a beer belly or become an alcoholic. Both would be very easy to do running this place.’

‘You jog and exercise most mornings and you’re still in great shape, despite the amount you drink.’

‘You didn’t add for a man my age. Good. I don’t need to be reminded about how old I am and the age gap.’

‘Big six-zero next year but you could still easily pass as late forties. Don’t worry.’ Emily reassured him. She stood in front of him, put her arms around him, stretched up and kissed him full on the lips. Frank returned the hug and smiled back at Emily.

‘I recognise that look in your eye. You’ll have to wait till closing time for any more than that old man.’

‘OK. I shall hold you to that promise,’ Frank replied. He hoped the day passed quickly.

Frank made himself busy by polishing the glasses, giving the tables and bar top a wipe over, while he waited for the first customers to arrive. During peak high season, the trade was good, better than either of them expected and so far they’d made a good profit. Now, at the end of the season, they just about broke even but that was OK. They were here for the lifestyle more than the profit. Maurice Blair had made them extremely wealthy.

Frank looked up and watched John Reynolds walk towards them from the harbour. Again, Frank noticed how he held himself when he walked and his eyes that were always looking, taking in details of his surroundings. Frank wondered if it was force of habit or was John harbouring a secret. It didn’t seem natural that a man should be so alert at all times.

Frank never once thought about the military, he got into a life of crime at an early age and never looked back, until the day he was imprisoned. Losing your freedom for twenty years, gave a man plenty of time to rue his mistakes.

John Reynolds took a stool at the bar and waited for Frank to finish wiping the last of the tables.

‘Hi John, what’s it to be?’ he asked.

John tapped the top of the Mythos tap and said, ‘large one please Frank, and one for yourself.’

Frank laughed. ‘So much for my resolve not to drink too early but it would be rude to refuse. Thanks John.’

Frank poured the drinks and they clinked their glasses together.

They made small talk for a while, talking about John’s trip round the island and the progress he was making on his villa renovations until Frank’s mobile rang. He looked at the display. It was a call from the UK but it wasn’t one on his contact list. He took a large gulp of his beer before answering the call.

‘Frank Smith,’ he said, deciding to take the call.

‘Frank, it’s Monty,’

‘Monty. It’s great to hear from you. What are you doing in the UK, I thought you were travelling the world and keeping all the ladies happy.’

‘I’ve been doing plenty of that and I’m having a ball; no pun intended. I just popped back to London for a cousin’s wedding and thought I’d catch up with a few old mates. I’m guessing you haven’t seen the papers today Frank or been watching the news?’

Frank wasn’t slow to pick up on the seriousness of his tone.

‘The papers are always a day behind but I don’t tend to read them much anyway, just the sports pages. As for the television, Sky Sports is about all I watch when I’m showing the games in the bar. Mostly I find the papers and news channels are full of stories that just make me angry so I give them a miss. What’s so important that you need to call me? Nothing about Blair’s case I hope?’

Frank was concerned that maybe Blair had won an appeal and was going for a retrial that could put his new life in danger.

‘Nothing to do with Blair. It’s Harry, Frank…’

‘Harry. What’s that old dog been up to? I’ve not spoken to him for a week or so.’

‘He’s dead Frank. Sorry to have to tell you this, I know you and him were close.’

Frank was at a loss. He and Harry went back years, long before he was locked away. It was Harry that told him how Blair had cheated everyone out of their money and helped him orchestrate his downfall.’

‘Sorry, Monty. It’s a bit of a shock. I know he was an old guy but sometimes you expect people to live forever. I’m gutted. What did he die of, do you know?’

‘Yeah, I know. It was a shock to me too. It wasn’t natural causes, Frank. It’s all over the papers and in the news. He was stabbed in the base of the skull and dumped in a canal. The body was found yesterday morning by a jogger. The police are saying it was a gangland execution, due to the nature of the injury and, of course, Harry’s background.’

Frank remained silent. He could hear Monty’s breathing.

‘Who killed him and why Monty?’

‘I asked around, as I still have some good connections in London. Seems Harry passed on some information about a house in Hertfordshire being used for illegal sex parties. The person he gave it to burnt the house down and cost the mob a serious amount of money. You may have heard about the fire at Aldbury House, where a lot of prominent people burnt to death, including a couple of politicians and a lord. They pinned it on Harry.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I read that. Who killed him, Monty?’

The line remained silent.

‘Monty. If you know who’s behind this, tell me,’ Frank told him his voice menacing.

‘It was Kristina Kovac. You know who she is, Frank?’

‘Yeah, I know who she is. I may be out of London but I’m not that out of touch. Kovac’s the head of London but she won’t be for long. I swear to you, I’m gonna kill the bitch.’

‘Frank. Kovac is bad news. She makes Blair and Brant and all the others we know, look like pussycats. She has all of London and unlimited resources, you won’t get anywhere near her and if you do you’re a dead man. Let it go Frank. If not for your own sake, for Emily’s. You’re a married man now Frank.’

‘Can’t do that Monty. Thanks for letting me know, I appreciate it.’

‘Frank, I’m gonna be in London for a few more days, if you need any help or information, call me on this number.’

‘Thanks Monty but I won’t be dragging you into this one. This is something I need to do.’

‘OK Frank but this is one fight you won’t win. You should think about what you’re getting yourself into. It’s not gonna end well.’

‘Probably not, but I owe it Harry. Thanks for the call Monty. I’ll be in touch.’

Frank ended the call and stared into space, oblivious to John Reynolds staring at him. He picked up his beer and gulped down half of the cold liquid.

‘Bad news, Frank?’ John asked.

Frank took a couple of deep breaths to get his anger under control, which overwhelmed the sadness he felt at the loss of his oldest friend.

‘Friend of mine was stabbed to death in London.’

‘Sorry to hear that Frank. I hope the police catch the bastard who did it.’

Frank was a good reader of people and knew Reynolds was fishing for information. He thought about his short conversation with Monty and what Reynolds would have heard. He remembered saying to Monty he knew Kovac was the head of London and yesterday, Reynolds, said he had a history with the woman.

‘You and me need a chat, John.’ Frank said draining his drink. He got up walked behind the bar and pulled another beer into the same glass. Reynolds raised his glass, catching Frank’s eye. Frank poured a second glass for Reynolds.

Emily came out the kitchen and said hello to John.

‘I need you to cover out front, Em. John and I are going to have a little chat.’

Emily knew that tone of voice and wondered what the hell was going on. The only other time Frank used that tone was back in London when he found out Blair had conned him out of the money that was rightly his. She knew better than to ask questions and took up post behind the bar ready for any early customers.

Frank inclined his head to the far corner of the bistro and carried the two drinks with him. John followed. The two men sat down. Frank appraised Reynolds, whose face was unreadable. Being a big man, Frank knew he was intimidating to many people. He was six foot tall and weighed in at around two-hundred pound and was solid muscle. John Reynolds sat calmly, as if he was completely unconcerned about Frank. It said a lot about a person in Frank’s view.

‘Last night, I put my cards on the table and told you who I am and what I did for a living before making Crete my home. I’m gonna remind you of who I am and then I’m gonna ask you some questions. You got that?’

Reynolds said nothing but made a face that suggested he would go along with Frank but only if it suited him.

‘I told you I was an enforcer and I did twenty years inside to cover Blair’s arse and he cheated the whole gang out