Holy Island Trilogy 03 - The Final Countdown Read Free Page A

the window seats. The seats were wooden but had comfortable lemon cushions with white stripes on them, which matched the walls and the lemon and white checked table cloths.
    What to do now? He was thinking, as the coffee and chocolate cake were placed in front of him by a young woman with a smile that sadly reminded him of his grand-daughter. He added cream to the coffee and picked up the fork to eat his piece of cake.
    ‘My Annya is not dead,’ he muttered, the cake halfway to his mouth, his lips barely moving, unheard by the two young girls sitting at the next table, heads and mobile phones together, doing their own brand of muttering.
    He stirred the coffee and took a drink, relishing the taste and loving the smell. He smacked his lips. Ah, this was good coffee. He took another sip and looked out of the window, watching as a car he recognised pulled up outside the detective’s house. His hopes lifted as he saw his friend Cox get out of his car.
    Detective Clancy must have phoned him.
    Perhaps they are going to sort it together.
    Cox did promise me he would do what he could.
    With a feeling of excitement stirring his blood, he swung his head round to the clock on the wall, then to a notice board next to the clock for the opening times.
    Hmm, half an hour left before closing.
    He would sit it out, wait as long as he had to until their business was finished, then when they came to the door, go over and confront them. Even if he had to stand outside when the café closed, for however long.
    My Annya is not going to be forgotten!

CHAPTER THREE
    Kristina’s eyes fell on a set of ornamental swords that she’d told her grandmother to hand in to the police station a few years ago, which of course the lovely awkward old bugger never had. Kristina had been meaning to, ever since she’d moved back down here, only she kept forgetting. Quickly she crossed the room and pulled the top sword out of its sheath. She judged it to be not quite a meter long, quite heavy and looked rather sharp. She had a very quick mental picture of her grandmother sharpening the blade.
     Just the sort of thing she would do, even though they’re illegal, thank God no one had been stupid enough to break in they would have met a worthy opponent in grandma alright.  Kristina thought as, light-footed, she ran to the cream leather settee along the wall beside the door. Jumping up, she stood and took a moment to steady herself. One knee bent, one bare foot firmly planted on the arm of the settee and the other on a cushion, she raised the sword above her head with both arms. Making sure she had the balance right, she waited, straining her hearing. It had gone deathly quiet. She could hear nothing.
    If there is someone there, they’re good!
    The door handle slowly began to turn. Kristina puffed the air out of her cheeks then, taking a deep breath, she held it in, pushing her worries for Cox and Mike to the back of her mind as self preservation kicked in and she gripped the handle of the sword even tighter.
    The door opened, and the first thing Kristina saw was the gun. Gathering all her strength, without hesitating she brought the sword down in a quick slanted movement. Her aim was not to kill, but to knock the gun out of whoever’s hand it was, and to disable the bastard and put herself at the advantage.
    The gun flew up into the air, and to Katrina’s horror it took her would-be assailant's thumb with it. As the gun spun over and over, droplets of blood spread in a wide arc, splattering the walls and furniture. Then gravity took over, and the gun fell in a direct line to the floor. The thumb landed at the shocked man’s feet a second later, tip first, then falling over.
    Kristina was just as shocked as the man, whose face had drained of all colour as he clutched his wrist tightly with his left hand, and stared at her in utter disbelief.
    Overcoming her shock and moving quickly, Kristina jumped for the gun. She landed on her knees. Her fingers were