Revenge Times Three

By Paul Brackley

After a harrowing escape, we follow our hero as he flees to France, a dream comes true and a safe haven. But now, with the spoils of his fortune safely stored in Bitcoin, what to do next with his life, and how to elude the desperate characters that may now be hunting him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Booksaregood
• Release date: Oct 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9780645000818

Paul Brackley

I am a retired businessman living in Adelaide South Australia. Born London England. Background in chronological order" from 15 yrs: Clerical, Painter, Photo Sales, RAAF, Crayfisherman, Fire brigade, Roadhouse Manager, McDonalds, then my own businesses, some successful and some not so. First time author and after many years putting off writing I'm now really enjoying it. Have 2 children (1 deceased) but now only my wife and I at home together. Hopefully more writing to come.

Book preview

Revenge

Times Three

Paul Brackley

Copyright © 2020 by Paul Brackley

Print ISBN: 978-1-944066-34-5

Audiobook ISBN: 978-1-944066-35-2

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Table Of Contents

Escapeto The Continent

Securing the Bitcoins

The Path Forward

Revenge in Poland

Reverse Revenge

Crimson Pharma For Sale

Final Revenge

Revenge Three

Escapeto The Continent

Celebrating by drinking a bottle of vodka on a stormy winter’s night on the upper deck in a small boat crossing the English Channel is probably not a good idea. However, when a person just escaped the clutches of a violent adversary and in possession of a fortune in bitcoin, that person could easily do things that maybe they normally wouldn’t. Especially if they were also in the company of a cheery, experienced boatman, and his lovely daughter. Which Jerome was.

Mid way across the English Channel, or as the French call it—La Manche (both English and French people think everyone in the world calls it by their own nationality’s name) he could see the lights of Calais, but Jerome’s boat was landing about sixteen miles west, in a secluded cove where his best friend Harry had teed up a chauffeured car to take him anywhere he liked.

The wind that night was blowing at over forty mph, but Jerome was having a jovial, and at times flirty, discussion with Lena whilst her father motored ahead. Lena spoke excellent English but unfortunately no French. He would have loved to have heard her speak in French. The more vodka he had, the prettier she looked and the more wonderful her company. Lena reminded Jerome of someone, not Emma, well, perhaps a little bit, but at that moment he couldn’t think who. She had dark, enormous eyes which seemed to go beautifully with her rounded features and Lithe body. He felt rather full of himself as events that could have ended in disaster had turned out perfectly for him so far.

The boat swayed violently in union with the swells. They were all on the upper deck of the thirty-foot cruiser, and Jerome cast his eyes out to the land ahead. Seeing the glow from the lights, he wondered what the future had in store for him. Few people of the billions that were alive or had ever lived had been as fortunate as he was with respect to what he now had. Wealth beyond what he ever dreamed of. No family ties, and the freedom that most people would envy. He also wondered what was in the letter that Pauline had given him with the instruction— only open when you land in France. Strange, he thought. It was in his back pocket, and he couldn’t wait to open it.

Lena left him for a while to help her father, and he tussled with his thoughts. But now the excitement as he sat alone was abating, and a certain melancholy set in. Would he never see England and his beloved Cornwall again? Jerome had studied psychology and knew that travelling down the road of melancholy with your thoughts, although inversely a nice feeling, could ultimately lead to depression. He quickly stopped to concentrate on ‘The Power of Now a moment in time to keep his thoughts in reality. Jerome was a follower of Eckhart Tolle and his mental technique of forcing the mind to be present when his thoughts drifted. Enjoy the now he chanted to himself. Within an instant, the melancholy had vanished.

A few minutes later, his attention was disrupted by Lena who called out, Police custom Launch on our Port side. A tinge of fear went through Jerome’s body.

Ahoy there, captain, where are you going? a UK coast guard shouted out of the fog and rain. Jerome knew Marcel had gone through this many times and it shouldn’t be a problem. As long as they were not illegal migrants and had identification, all would be well. Jerome’s new French passport gave his name as Jay Peirce. A French national.

Jerome’s thoughts drifted back to the scene at the offices of Macmillans. It would soon be morning, and he wondered how Brent was going to explain the situation. Did they fix the door and window yet? He inwardly laughed at the events that allowed his escape. He wasn’t sure what story Brent would give the police. Brent, he guessed, would have to say Jerome had leaped through the window to escape the security guards who tried to stop him when they realized what he was doing. With no further sign of him, they would conclude that he’d drowned. At least that was what Jerome hoped Brent would say. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to keep himself out of the picture and not be incriminated in the disappearance of the money.

The police launch departed after a cheery sign off, Safe trip, Captain.

Lena came