“Grey suit, red tie – don’t look up!” hissed Freddie at the bewildered Miranda, “He was there at La Sagrada and again on Las Ramblas, drink up!” The cup, grasped in trembling hands, chattered against her teeth. Six countries in four months yet they had found them again.
A glass exploded on the bar startling her, but Freddie never moved. A small hole appeared in the breast pocket of his jacket from which a stain was spreading rapidly. He sighed, falling sideways from the stool. A grey flash in her peripheral vision, a sudden searing pain and the chase was over.
jwdwrites 
I would have wanted them to visit more countries before they bit the bullet. But it’s your story 🙂
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And this is why I don’t travel to foreign countries! 😉
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You can run and you can hide, but “they” will always find you. At least their end was swift.
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There’s a great build-up of tension and urgency… great story, the end couldn’t be more complete. 🙂
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Sometimes the hunt will go on forever.. The story behind is what I think about.. Spies or gangsters?
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There are worse places to met your maker!
Rosey Pinkerton
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Oh dear, not the start of a longer story then.
Great action and tension in few words.
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Too bad they were found! Darn it all – oh well, when you are on the lamb, you cannot let up your defenses. Nan 🙂
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