The Rebel: The new crime thriller that will have you gripped in 2018. Jaime Raven
he was sitting in an alcove next to the window.
She was disarmingly attractive, with thick, lustrous black hair and naturally olive skin. Her face was smooth and narrow, and she moved with the sinewy grace of a catwalk model.
She had on a smart leather jacket with a fleece lining that looked brand new and probably was. It was open at the front and underneath she was wearing torn jeans and a tight brown sweater.
She was slim but endowed in all the right places, and it struck him that she was so unlike any of the contract killers he had ever come across.
Rosa Lopez was stunning, and he reckoned she probably stood out even among the beautiful sicarias in Latin America. He found it strange that someone so young and beautiful could be a sadistic killer. He wondered if she had been born a psychopath or whether events in her life had turned her into one.
As she approached, he held out his hand and introduced himself. She smiled and it lit up her face, but there was something unconvincing about it.
‘Welcome to London,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
‘Not too much I hope,’ she replied.
She spoke perfect English with only the faintest trace of an accent.
‘Please take a seat,’ he said. ‘Danny will get the drinks in.’
‘Just an orange juice for me,’ she said, sitting down opposite him without removing her coat. ‘I never touch alcohol when I’m on an assignment.’
‘Very sensible of you,’ Slack said.
As Danny went off to the bar, Slack studied the woman who had come all the way from Mexico. Her eyes were the colour of dark chocolate and there was no emotion in them. In fact they quite unnerved him.
‘How was the journey?’ he asked.
‘Very pleasant. But then it usually is when one travels first class.’
‘And is the hotel to your liking?’
She shrugged. ‘Not really. It’s cheap and cheerful, but that’s OK because I understand it was chosen for its location. And anyway I’m not here on vacation.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Slack said. ‘And can I take it that your boss made you aware of how unusual this job is?’
‘It’s not that unusual, Mr Slack. I’ve taken out plenty of police officers over the years. Once I killed three in a single day and in different locations. I’m not in the least bit intimidated by the scale of this assignment.’
Slack was impressed. He could see now why Carlos Cruz had sent her and why she was so highly rated. She had the one essential attribute of all successful contract killers; she was not troubled by the conventional standards of morality.
Danny came back to the table with their drinks and Slack was struck by a jarring thought. To the other customers they no doubt looked like normal people, friends enjoying an evening out. But in reality they were the opposite of normal. Between them they had carried out scores of abhorrent crimes and were planning to commit many more.
Rosa suggested they steer clear of small talk and get straight down to business. So Slack told her about the organised crime task force and the text messages that had been sent to the detectives and their immediate family members.
Rosa raised her brow. ‘And do you really think that killing some detectives will stop the rest of them coming after you?’
He grinned. ‘Not at all. But that’s not why I’m doing it. This is just the opening salvo in a war I’ve declared against London’s police. I want to start by making them think it’s just about the task force. That’ll confuse and unsettle them before the real fun begins.’
At this point he took a mobile phone and a buff-coloured envelope from his pocket and handed them to her.
‘It’s an unregistered phone and you can use it to contact me and Danny,’ he said. ‘Our numbers have been programmed in and we have your number. The envelope contains the list of targets. Names, addresses and contact details of the detectives and their loved ones. There’s also a link to a website on which we’ve uploaded photographs of all the officers and many of the family members.’
‘Where did the information come from?’ Rosa asked.
‘There’s someone on the task force who’s working for us.’
Rosa picked up the envelope, folded it and slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket along with the phone.
‘The stuff you requested is in the lock-up garage at the rear of these premises,’ he said. ‘It’s in a secure position and you’ll be given a key to access it when you need to. When you’ve finished your drink we’ll show it to you. Now have you got any questions?’
She drank some of her juice, then wet her upper lip with her tongue.
‘I’ve got two questions,’ she said. ‘I’d like to know how long you expect me to stay and how many people you want me to kill.’
Slack leaned towards her. ‘Under the deal with your boss I have you for two weeks. I’d like you to carry out the hits at a rate of one a day, although I do appreciate that it might not be possible. And, if I’m not otherwise disposed, I might well ask Cruz to extend the contract. It all depends how much fun I’m having.’
The garage behind the pub was set back from the road. Danny unlocked it and raised the door, and Slack and Rosa followed him inside.
In front of them was a motorbike with leathers and a helmet on the seat. Saddlebags were attached either side of the seat.
‘We were told only that you wanted two wheels,’ Danny said. ‘Is this thing OK?’
She looked it over and nodded. ‘It looks perfectly fine.’
‘Good. There’s a bunch of fake stick-on number plates in the left-side saddlebag. Change them as often as you need to avoid street traffic cameras.’
On the table to the right of it there was an iPad, a takedown sniper rifle in an open briefcase, a pistol with silencer attached, a large knife, a garrotte with plastic handles, and five mobile phones.
‘These are all burner phones so you can dump them after you use them,’ Slack said. ‘It means you don’t have to use the phone I’ve already given you. The iPad has been set up so you’re ready to go online.’
Rosa stepped forward and ran her hands over the weapons.
‘You’ve been very thorough,’ she said.
‘That’s because like you we’re pros,’ Slack told her.
Danny then handed her the key to the garage. It was attached to a plastic keyring that enclosed a photo of the pub’s exterior and the words: Three Crowns, Vauxhall. They then stepped outside, and Rosa locked up.
‘Would you like another drink?’ Slack asked her.
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I need to go back to the hotel to start planning. And since this is my first time in London I have to get my bearings.’
‘Well, if there’s anything else you need you only have to ask.’
‘There is something I need to know,’ she said. ‘Do you want to be the one who decides who I target and when? Or are you leaving that to me?’
‘That’s your call, Rosa,’ he said. ‘You have the names and plenty of information on all of them. The only thing I ask is that you don’t hang around.’
‘No problem,’ she said. ‘All being well I’ll start tomorrow.’
Laura