- a free online novel Rob Hopcott

Chapter 22

Denise and Bill had spent most of the day cleaning up the mess in their new home. But at 3 oclock in the afternoon a computer was delivered with instructions to power it up straightaway. Bill was pleased because it presented an opportunity to get away from the housework. The instructions told them to log onto the Internet.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said the crossed legged man that sat casually in the middle of the screen. "Could you stand directly in front of the web cam so I can see you." Bill moved round a little so he was standing behind Denise.

"That's better," said the man. "I understand the you have agreed to work with us.

"Not exactly willingly", said Bill. "We'd much rather that you left us alone and we would have considerable reservations if you wanted us to do anything illegal. However, we were told that you would make full restitution for the damage you have caused to us and, if that is the case, we are not unwilling to let bygones be bygones."

"Very sensible and practical," the man smiled brightly. "There is one job with which you can help. Then we'll call it a day, if you like. The work is really for Denise who has the expertise that we need. In a moment, if you switch the printer on, I will send you a list of transactions that need to be completed. There are transfers to be made between bank accounts, shares that need to be sold and the proceeds also transferred. I believe you have expertise in all these areas, Denise, and that you will be able to do all these things online."

"Providing I have the appropriate passwords and a proper authorisation, then I will be able to make the transfers," said Denise.

"There is rather a lot to do and I am afraid that it must be done as soon as possible," said the little computer man.

Denise started getting prickly.

"These things have to be done carefully and I will have to familiarize myself with the screens you give me."

"I have to stress that the work must be done today or overnight."

"It all sounds rather irregular," said Denise.

"The best of what you just said," said Bill, "is that this is the only job that you will want us to do."

"When you have done his job, providing it is done properly, it will be the last to hear of me. One of the transactions that Denise will make will be to reimburse you both in full for the inconvenience that has been caused to you."

Bill turned to Denise, who was still looking officious.

"Let's give it a whirl, Denise. I'll be here to help and if there's anything that we don't like, presumably we can ask."

"You can indeed," said the man, "but the instructions are extremely explicit and the transactions are straightforward even though there are rather a lot of them. The sooner that they are done, the sooner we can say goodbye to each other."

Bill shrugged his shoulders and flipped the printer on. It immediately started printing. Denise picked up one of the sheets.

"If I've got to do this, I'd better get started, Bill," she said, pulling up a chair and seating herself at the computer. She reached up and for a moment squeezed the hands that Bill had looped around her neck as he stood behind her.

"You fancy making the cup of tea, I think it's going to take hours."

It had indeed taken hours and it was not until 3 oclock the next morning and many cups of teas later, that Denise entered the final transactions into the computer with a sigh.

"What I don't understand," said Bill, is how you were able to continue working through the night. Surely the Stock Exchange will be closed. "

"There are ways round it," said Denise, "and I've been doing a lot of the selling through foreign exchanges. As one Stock Exchange would close, another would open. The world's financial system never really closes especially for online transactions. If you have the right passwords and authorisations, you can do practically anything."

"While you've been working away," said Bill, gently, "I couldn't help but think how gorgeous you look."

Denise lifted his hand and rubbed it against her cheek, eyes tired but misty with emotion.

"Right at the end there were some transactions relating to us," she said. "They've kept their promise and the amount that is sitting in a business account in your name should give you plenty of time to build up your business up again. Although how on earth they knew the details of your account remains a mystery to me."

"On another matter, I've been thinking," said Bill. "Your knowledge of finance would be pretty useful in e-commerce and complement my computing and business skills. How would you like to resign from the bank and to work with me as my partner."

"I'm not sure," said Denise, smiling, "whether that is an indecent proposal or just a proposal."

Bill smiled and responded by reaching underneath Denise and lifting her into his arms although she protested that she was too heavy.

"I am certainly making an indecent proposal," he said, kissing her gently, "and, to the future Mrs Bill, I intend to make many, many more indecent proposals."

Denise smuggled her head into his neck, with a happy smile on her face, and he carried her off to bed.

Jasmine and Beaver had received their instructions at about the same time as Denise and Bill.

"Our project is coming to an end," announced the young man, reclining, in the centre of the screen.

"What about that shipment I ordered for you the other day," said Jasmine.

"You don't need to worry about that," said the man, "the shipment has been intercepted and dealt with."

"So you never intended to set me up in business selling drugs," said Jasmine.

"It was merely a useful way to enable the supply route to be tracked together with other information that I had. The person that you arranged the delivery with will be very upset and even more important than that, the loss will hit him hard and the organisation he represents."

"If the rest of his organisation are as scary as Mr C.," said Beaver, "I wouldn't like to be in his shoes."

"I rather doubt whether he is going to be in his shoes for very long also," said the computer man, wryly, "which was the whole point of the exercise."

He continued

"Things have changed regarding the accommodation you are using at the moment. You will have to vacate it today as the owner will be returning."

"You don't want me to go back and stay with Rod, do you?" Jasmine was panicking.

"That will not be necessary and from your point of view is obviously not desirable. I have a job that I want both of you to do for the rest of today and tonight and I doubt if you will get much sleep. By tomorrow I will have sorted you out some more accommodation. Now, if you switch the printer on, you will receive your instructions. I have to stress that it is vital to get this job as soon as possible."

Beaver reached over and switch the printer on. It immediately spluttered into life.

"It says that we will be collected," said Beaver, reading from the sheet. They both jumped as the doorbell rang.

By midnight, they were both rubbing their eyes, not only with tiredness but also her in amazement at what they had achieved. The driver of the van that had collected them had given them a list of instructions and access codes. He had driven them to an extremely stately home in the lush green countryside. The alarm had stayed silent when the code had been entered and the gates opened. The garage doors opened easily too. First they had unloaded the van and stored its' heavy contents in the house and garage. The van driver meanwhile had been round the old cars and got their engines started. Jasmine and Beaver then helped load the cars onto a vehicle transporter that had arrived. Jasmine saw the transporter driver put a large can on the grass by the gates, although Jasmine couldn't see what it said. The two red Ferraris were the last to be loaded. He was a large man in overalls and very curly hair. He pulled tarpaulin around the vehicles and within minutes had driven off. The van driver rapidly left too.

"What do we do now?" said Jasmine.

"I think our lift coming," said Beaver, pointing to a mobile home coming up the drive.

"Unless both of us are supposed to get on the back of that one," laughed the sleepy Jasmine. She was pointing to a motorbike that had followed the car. Both vehicles drew up in front of them and Beaver was surprised but still caught the keys that were thrown to him as the driver of the mobile home leapt on the back of the motorbike and roared off into the night.

"Wow, it solves our accommodation problem, for the time being," said Beaver. "And what is even better, I know a beautiful forest not far from here and there is a place that you can park at the top of the hill. We can get a few hours' sleep and then watch the dawn come up."

Jasmine snuggled up to him on the bench seat.

"Do you think that we could go off and have a holiday somewhere," she said," if we can keep this house on wheels thing for a while. There are so many places that I have always wanted to visit."

Beaver engaged first gear and turned to smile at her.

"And when we've visited all the places you want to visit, then we'll start on mine, shall we?"

When Iselle collected Rod, she hadn't driven very far before she pulled into a car park and reversed to hitch the trailer to the little sports car.

"What's that doing here," said Rod.

Iselle climbed into the car and sleeked back her hair with her hand before engaging the gears and pulling off again into the night.

"There are still some things to do," she said. "You will get an opportunity to play with your toys."

Rod wanted to complain. He had done a night's work already. To start another caper before he had had time to congratulate himself on the one he had just done seemed unjust. However, the thought of getting his hands on those weapons again and using them was too much to resist. Also Iselle was looking very serious. So he kept quiet.

After about half an hour, Iselle parked the car at the end of a small road that seemed to lead nowhere but seemed to Rod to be quite high up.

"I want a box of ammunition and two launchers," said Iselle, crisply.

Rod ambled around the back and opened the rear door to the trailer with the key that Iselle had given him. The ammunition was heavy and he struggled with it to where Iselle was now standing on the brow of the hill. She had slipped through a break in the hedge and was looking down into the dark countryside. Rod dumped the ammunition down beside her with more force and he had intended. She'd turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

"Are you trying to blow us up, already," she said.

"Its heavy stuff," said Rod, disgruntled at her criticism.

"I know how heavy it is a," said Iselle, closely. "And they get a lot lighter when they explode but we don't want that to happen yet."

"I'll get the launchers," said Rod.

He struggled through the hedge with the two long tubes." So where is the target," he said.

"Down there," said Iselle. She pointed downwards and Rod saw a large mansion lying below them. "Do you think it is big enough for you to hit," she said sarcastically. "You'll have to aim a little bit high to allow for the distance."

"You want me to shoot at that," said Rod. "It's a mighty posh house down there. It looks as if it goes back centuries!"

"Whatever it is or has been. In five minutes time it will be a pile of rubble."

Iselle said the words very quietly and very distinctly. Her eyes were as hard as stones. With the dark countryside all around, Rod felt a chill breeze against his scalp.

"Your wish is my enjoyment - crush the rich bastards!" Rod said these words between his teeth as he hoisted one of the launchers to his shoulder. The ammunition was now in place and leaning against a convenient telegraph pole he squeezed the trigger and watched the shot curve towards the house. It missed the house but caught the large garage that stretched from the front of the mansion to its rear. The explosion seemed to take ages to reach them but when he did, it had a satisfying roar.

By now Iselle had a launcher on her shoulder and was firing. There was another flash and one wing of the house started to collapse. For the next five minutes Rod worked hard to load and fire, to load and fire.

In the end, he was sweating and giggling with excitement. Iselle worked as hard but quietly and never lost the stony face that Rod was getting used to. The last shot sped on down into the smoking and burning hulk of a building and Iselle turned on her heel and made her way back to the car, tossing the launcher into the trailer. Rod followed her but laid his down more reverently.

Iselle engaged the gears and pulled the car away down the small road.

"I don't think we will bump into anybody," she said, "but make sure you have your pistol ready."

Rod patted his breast pocket. "Ready and waiting," he said.

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Unwelcome Paradise by Rob Hopcott is copyright   2001, All rights are reserved. All characters are fictitious in this story and no reference is intended to any person living or otherwise.

I hope you enjoy 'Unwelcome Paradise'.      Rob

- a free online novel Rob Hopcott