Becca XXX - Hard Time Ch. 13

"Maybe. Perhaps we've got this the wrong way around. Perhaps your father is buying something rather than selling it."

Sasha was about to respond when Charles waved over to the industrial building we were hiding behind. We heard a vehicle start up inside and watched it appear out of the hangar and drive towards the waiting men.

It was a flatbed truck with large green wooden cases on the back. The cases were long with a red star emblazoned on the side of them along with some foreign writing.

"They look like weapons cases," I said. "It looks like an exchange rather than a one-way purchase. Cash is hard to come by these days without questions being asked, especially in large amounts. The Americans must be paying your father with something else."

"Like what?"

"Fuck knows. We'd need to get a closer look in that case."

The truck drove the short distance and stopped in front of the plane. Charles gestured for the men to examine their goods and they all moved to the back of the truck. Two of the Americans jumped up onto the flatbed and opened one of the cases.

My heart skipped a beat and I let out an involuntary gasp as I realised what they were buying.

The item they were examining was green and about five feet long. The front end had a pistol grip and a sighting system on it and I knew instantly what it was.

"Jesus fucking Christ, they're buying..."

"Missile launchers," Sasha interrupted, coming to the same conclusion as me.

She turned to me open mouthed with a shocked look on her face.

"What sort of a person would need to buy missile launchers?" she asked.

"I'm guessing they're not the US army," I said. "This whole set up looks like terrorists buying military grade weapons. I don't see what else they could be."

"What the fuck is my father playing at?" she gasped. "He always told me he had our country's best interests at heart. He would never get into bed with terrorists."

"His actions would suggest otherwise, but these guys are American, not British. This doesn't appear to have anything to do with the UK. The US mainland isn't far from here, it looks like he's doing an arms deal with these men in exchange for something else."

"So, my dad's a fucking gun runner?"

"It looks like it, but it's not just guns by the look of those things."

The Americans seemed happy with the merchandise and placed the missile launcher back in the case before climbing down. The atmosphere between them and Charles seemed to lift and there was lots of smiling and back slapping between them. I could even hear laughter.

Charles placed his arm on the lead guy's shoulder and started to walk to the waiting golf carts. They were deep in conversation and Charles was smiling like a Cheshire Cat. I guessed that the business was done and that both parties were satisfied that they weren't trying to screw each other over.

One of Charles' militia carried the silver briefcase a few paces behind and they all got into two golf carts and drove off out of sight towards the villa.

"We need to go," I said. "No doubt your father will be expecting me."

Sasha stood still with her mouth open in shock. The gravity of what her father did for a living had hit her like a brick wall. She knew he was up to something illegal, but finding out that her father was selling weapons to terrorists had taken her breath away.

"Sasha, we need to go... now," I repeated my comment more sternly.

"Sorry... yes... shit... let's get out of here."

The relaxing downtime I'd enjoyed that morning had come to an abrupt end. Charles was up to his old tricks again and I had no idea what he was planning. His beautiful private island wasn't a holiday getaway - it was nothing more than a weapons cache for his arms deals. It was secluded, remote and easily accessible from both the air and the sea. No one would suspect such a perfect spot would be used for smuggling guns to various different countries.

Maybe Charles was branching out after his failed attack on the UK. He seemed to have America in his sights, but to what end? His failed attack on the UK had been all about destabilising our country in order to get us to rejoin the EU. Attacking America wouldn't make any difference to that. Trying to launch missiles on American soil seemed like suicide.

My mission to assassinate this guy hadn't gone away. I'd taken my time to give him the benefit of the doubt and he'd blown it. I may not have known who I was working for or if they were good or bad, but my orders to kill this guy were justified. As usual, there was always a bigger picture and now that American terrorists seemed to be involved, I needed to step up a gear.

Not only did I have a member of The Generals to kill, I also had multiple hostiles to overcome and a group of unknowns buying missile launchers. I couldn't allow those weapons to leave the island. The damage they could inflict on American soil with a plane load of missiles didn't bare thinking about.

My mission had become a lot more complicated but at least my guilt about taking out Sasha's father had evaporated.

If there wasn't a logical explanation for his actions, he was going down.