Eye of the Cobra (20 page)

He opened a huge door at the end of the tunnel and it swung back to reveal what looked like the entrance to a luxurious penthouse. A fountain played into a marble bath, set in the centre of a white tiled floor. Small ceiling-mounted spotlights gave a gentle illumination to the whole area.

‘I like, I like,’ Jules exclaimed.

‘Through these doors are the master-suites. These are for us. Please follow me.’

Talbot led them through the dining, cooking and exercise areas to the massive bedroom suites. Each room looked out onto a balcony. Talbot slid back one of the big picture- windows and they walked out onto a cave-like patio that looked out over the cliff wall.

Emerson peered nervously over the edge. There was no railing. He stared at Talbot.

‘These rooms,’ Talbot went on, ‘are invisible to the outside world. There are no railings because they might be visible to someone on the ground with a very high-powered telescope. We’re not taking chances.’

Emerson nodded and stepped back quickly. The drop made the soles of his feet tingle.

Talbot led them back through the executive suites and into the plant itself.

‘This laboratory area is completely sealed. The air supply comes through the air-conditioning system: should hostile elements intrude into this area, a simple flick of the switch can introduce a nerve gas which will kill anything living in less than a second.’

Talbot caught Jules’s eyes. ‘And should you want to - how shall I put it? - renew your staff, the same procedure can be applied.’

Jules puffed out his chest. ‘We think along the same lines, Rod.’

Emerson, alias Antonio Vargas, scratched his nose, then touched Talbot’s arm.

‘So, you build us this facility, you provide the distribution network . . . What’s the catch?’

Rod Talbot looked closely at Vargas. He was still the brains behind the operation and always would be. He was far too clever to be second-in-command to a dumbo like Jules Ortega.

‘The catch, Antonio, is the rent.’

‘Rent!’ blurted out Jules Ortega.

‘Yes,’ replied Talbot. ‘It’s fifty million US dollars a week.’

Jules moved up to Talbot, to grab the lapels of his jacket. Instead, stinging blows caught the sides of his arms and he felt himself lift off the ground, fly through the air and hit the sidewall of the laboratory. He lay on the ground gasping for breath, furious.

‘
Bastardo
’

‘One more word, Jules, and I’ll kill you.’

The atmosphere was ice-cool. There was fear in Jules’s eyes noted Talbot, but not in Vargas’s. Vargas was the killer, he knew that. And as he expected, it was Vargas who broke the silence.

‘And if we do not agree to this “rent”?’ Vargas asked quickly.

‘Then you build your own laboratories again and again, because wherever you put them, the CIA will find them.’

‘The rent is extortionate.’

‘When you clear three hundred and fifty million dollars a week?’

Anger flashed in Vargas’s eyes. ‘We pay.’

Wyatt Chase did not like sitting behind a desk, but there were a few technical papers from Shensu he had to read. He also had to look through Suzie’s clothing designs for himself,
Ricardo and the pit crew. He liked them, they had an oriental feel.

It had been another exacting day on the test track. He found the silence of the night soothing after the animal noises of the engine that had filled his ears all day long.

He heard a noise outside the main building and looked out of the window.

‘What’s going on, Wyatt?’ Suzie asked from behind him.

He turned and pulled her close to him.

‘Just another delivery of Carvalho tyres.’

Wyatt watched the driver of the truck being directed across the track to the area behind the pits. They would put the container down so that its doors opened directly into the rear of the pits.

‘Bruce has been worried about the tyres,’ Wyatt said softly. But he wasn’t thinking about the tyres. His hands were working their way under Suzie’s dress and starting to caress her between her legs.

‘Please . . .’ The word was a gasp.

He eased her round so that she was pressed against the darkened glass of the window. She wore only stockings and a suspender-belt under the dress.

As her hands unzipped him and guided him towards her, another Carvalho truck drew up outside. Bruce came out and directed it towards the slip-road running next to the track. There must be some other storage facilities, Wyatt thought distractedly, that he hadn’t seen.

He started to withdraw. ‘You bastard,’ Suzie sighed, turning round to face him.

‘I only have one real obsession,’ Wyatt said. He unzipped her dress as he spoke. Then he raised her up onto the desk, parted her legs and began to kiss her.

Her hands worked their way through his hair and he felt her body convulsing. Every part of her was beautiful, he wanted her to have pleasure.

Her head arching back, her blonde hair cascading around her naked shoulders, Suzie screamed out as sensation soared through her body. Wyatt rose up and plunged inside her. She lost control as he rode her, memories and feelings coursing through her mind. Then suddenly she had only one vision: this dark-haired man astride her, mastering her, possessing her.

She felt him pour into her, then sank into his arms. Within a few minutes she had fallen into the most delicious sleep she had ever known.

Ricardo came in without knocking. Suzie woke suddenly, embarrassed, crossing her arms to cover her naked breasts.

‘Wyatt, you should spend your time learning to drive, eh.’

It was a deliberate taunt. Suzie got up and slipped on her dress while Wyatt faced Ricardo squarely. ‘Perhaps someone should teach you some manners,’ he said.

The Italian was bristling. He was shorter than Wyatt but unafraid.

And then, before Wyatt realised what was happening, he was gripped from behind - two arms came round his torso.

There was nothing he could do to stop what happened next - the reactions were inbred. He dropped slightly, and felt his unknown attacker sag forward; then he pivoted, drove his right elbow back hard and hit out with the left.

Now Wyatt saw Ricardo closing in and drove his right fist out, striking him on the side of the head. Ricardo left the ground and flew against the desk.

Wyatt was still breathing normally as he regained his focus. Suzie was staring at him in astonishment; Bruce de Villiers was lying on the floor, clutching at the edge of the chair; and Ricardo was pulling himself up from the desk, retreating nervously backwards.

Wyatt helped Bruce to his feet. ‘Don’t ever surprise me like that again. I could have killed you.’

Bruce coughed and drew in his breath. ‘I was trying to stop you fighting Ricardo.’

‘Don’t interfere.’

Ricardo was staring at him, hatred burning in his eyes. Wyatt loathed himself for losing control.

‘Beat him on the track not here, Wyatt,’ Bruce managed to cough out.

The instant Wyatt’s guard was down, Ricardo picked up the ashtray from the desk and hurled it at him. Wyatt caught it in mid-air.

‘Ricardo, try that again and you won’t walk for a month.’

Ricardo’s eyes ran scathingly between him and Suzie, then the Italian driver turned on his heel and staggered out of the office.

‘Take it easy, Wyatt, you’ll beat him,’ Suzie said softly. ‘Are you all right, Bruce?’

De Villiers managed a smile, and Suzie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

‘I’ll leave you two alone for a while,’ she said, and smiling at Wyatt, she left the office.

Wyatt was glad to see that Bruce wa
s fine. He offered him a chair.

‘I
saw we got more tyres,’

‘That’s the new compound from Carvalho. Dr Jorge da Silva believes it’s a perfect match for the Shadow’s exceptional cornering power. I want you to take her out tomorrow and put those new slicks through their paces - show Ricardo a thing or two about driving.’

Wyatt was pleased. It would be a good opportunity.

It was past midnight, and Suzie lay next to Wyatt, staring around the big room and then out of the window that looked over the Thames.

She didn’t have to look for reasons when she was with him; it was enough that he was there. No man had made love to her the way he had earlier at the office; she hadn’t thought she was capable of feeling so much. And then Ricardo had come in and there had been that explosion of violence. Suddenly, a lot of pieces had fallen into place. She’d heard about the ten years he’d spent in Japan.

He was everything she’d been searching for in a man, and the terrifying discovery was that it was the physical thing she craved after all. She needed his strength, needed to draw from it to make herself whole.

She was in love in a way she had never dreamed possible. The thought of life without him was too terrifying to contem
plate. She thought of children, and other things that had remained essentially foreign to her for so many years.

He turned over and held her in his arms, still asleep. Fear starting gnawing at the pit of her stomach; fear that she might lose this man. She thought of the money backing the Shadow, and of Wyatt’s all-consuming desire to win. She thought of the team’s determination to win the championship, whatever the cost, whatever rules had to be broken.

She sensed he could not make a commitment to her yet, but she knew he would be faithful to her. That would have to be enough.

But in a week’s time they would be testing at Kyalami, almost ready for the first race in Rio.

She was so afraid of losing him . . .

She closed her eyes, smelt the animal huskiness of his body and concentrated on the present.

Bruce stared at the screen of the Cray computer and the design of the Shadow projected on it. Mickey was next to him, punching in commands, making subtle yet significant altera
tions - the result of the testing.

The test results were beyond expectation. The Shensu V12 had surpassed itself. Stripped and rebuilt again and again, it now appeared to be flawless. Usually it took months of driving, then months of analysis to develop the machine to its full potential.

Mickey turned to him. ‘Let’s call it a day. There’s nothing more to be done.’

Bruce could feel the excitement surging through his body. They had a great car. They could win the championship. He slapped Mickey on the back.

‘She’s a winner. A piece of real genius. But I don’t like to challenge the rules, so I hope she complies with all the regulations.’

‘Oh, she does, to be sure.’

‘How’s the development of the sports car going?’

That day Mickey had received the full go-ahead from Shensu. He had already made a few tentative sketches of how he envisaged the machine would look - a road-going car based on the Shensu V12 engine.

‘Well, Bruce, the Italians have always led the field in design, but now the Irish will show them a thing or two. With a little help from the Japanese, of course.’

Bruce stretched, and felt his bruises.

‘Our German designer,’ he said, has fallen for our number two driver.’

‘All the bloody luck for Wyatt.’

Bruce settled down into the leather armchair next to Mickey’s.

‘How’s her work, do you think?’

‘Good. Very good.’

Mickey handed Bruce Suzie’s drawings, and he spent some minutes evaluating them. Bruce’s opinion of her rose. There was a lot more than just a good understanding of design principles here; the curving shapes that she had placed on the bodywork genuinely added to the graceful lines of the car.

‘She understands our intentions very well,’ he said at last. ‘I thought it would be a bastard to make the branding look good, but I think she has succeeded. Maybe, though, it’s a little too subtle to satisfy Jack Phelps?’

‘I thought that was the last thing you’d be concerned about. But then look who’s payin’ the bills.’

‘Let me see what she’s going to have us all wearing.’

Mickey handed him a drawing-book and he paged carefully through it. She was plainly a master-craftsman. Every drawing was finely executed - and he noted that Wyatt featured in most of them.

‘Think they’re good?’ Mickey asked after a while.

‘What do you think? You’re the expert.’

‘Bluidy good.’

Mickey thought of Suzie close to him, showing him the sketches the previous day. He had been aware of the fragrance she was wearing, slightly musky and very alluring. Her blonde hair was swept back, revealing her distinctive forehead; her lips, precise yet sensual, beautifully painted, were pursed up tightly, waiting for his judgement.

‘You have a natural talent. I don’t think anyone else could have done such a fine job of work,’ he had said.

‘You think Wyatt will like them?’

‘That I cannot tell you, me luv. You’ll have to ask him.’