by Les Haswell
“Hi Justine, it‘s Rob. As someone once sang, ‘I just called to say I love you’. See you soon.” He dialled another number.
20
Dressed for night-time surveillance, Joe, Chris Hall and his team came out of the cottage as Rob put the phone away.
Joe handed Rob a radio with earbud and microphone. “We’ve synced these with the lads’ equipment so we’re all on the same frequency. The man on watch at the warehouse is with us, as well.”
“Excellent, so we’re all on the same wavelength as opposed to hymn sheet,” Rob joked and got a shake of heads and groans. They climbed into the two vehicles and drove towards the Achravie Castle car park and, from there, to the estate warehouse.
It was exceptionally dark when they pulled into the car park and parked at the rear, furthest away from the road. There were no other cars. Stealthily, the six men walked onto Achravie Estate. Using as much natural cover as they could, they headed for the warehouse under Rob’s direction as agreed, covert operations being his speciality. They approached slowly, stopping regularly to ensure there were no estate lookouts watching the approach.
Suddenly, their earbuds came to life. “Lookout to leader, movement at the warehouse. Two Land Cruisers have just approached the compound gates and they’re opening. The big roller door at the front of the warehouse is also opening and the first vehicle is driving toward it. The other one is staying outside.”
“How many men are with them?” asked Rob softly.
“Four guys got out of the second Land Cruiser. The first one just went straight inside, and the door’s closing, so I don’t know.”
“What are the four guys doing?”
“Standing outside the truck, with two of them having a smoke”
Chris nudged Rob with an elbow. “Looks like they may be on the move. We need to get in there.”
“Are the gates still open, Lookout?” asked Rob quickly.
“Still open. Hang on. The other guys are going into the warehouse through the side door of the building.”
Rob brought the team forward slowly, issuing instructions through his radio mic, till they were in sight of the warehouse. With every instruction, the operatives gave two clicks of the send button in acknowledgement.
The Achravie Estate Land Cruiser sat to the side of a big roller-shutter door; a single amber light shone above the small side door where the four men had entered the warehouse.
Under Rob’s direction, the team approached the big compound gate, still open, and from there made their way round to the back. As the five men gathered in the darkness, Rob laid out his plan.
“I want you to cover the side door where the four security guys entered. If they went in that way, they’ll come back out that way. When they do, take them down, fast. Ally, can you still see the front door?”
“Yes.”
“Keep watch and report action.”
Two clicks were the response.
“I’ve got a big surprise for that lot in there,” Rob advised flatly. “So let’s go cover that door.”
“Ally, take your night-vision off,” Chris directed.
Two clicks.
The team moved quietly round to the side and took up position on either side of the door.
“What now?” asked Chris.
“Achravie Estate is about to lose a Land Cruiser is what’s now.” Rob smiled wryly.
“It’s burger time!” Rob chirped tunefully
Suddenly, there was a flash of bright light from the trees above the front of the building, followed by the woosh of a rocket-propelled grenade. The Land Cruiser parked at the front of the warehouse erupted into a ball of flames and flew into the air, slamming into the building wall. There was silence for a few seconds, then shouting was heard inside the warehouse. The door burst open.
As Rob had predicted, the four security guards who’d entered through the door, accompanied by two others, burst out into the compound, armed with automatic rifles.
Chris’ team, Joe and Rob took them by surprise. Rob and Joe tripped the first two guards and the others fell over them in the rush to see what had happened. Rob felled the last man out with a savage blow to the ribs with the butt of his M27; he finished him with an equally fierce blow to the side of the head.
The team proved ruthlessly professional as they attacked the Achravie employees, and quickly and efficiently disposed of the six guards.
“Tom, Charlie, tie these guys up securely; we don’t want them reappearing,” Chris instructed, wiping his brow as he peered around.
“Chris, Joe, inside with me,” Rob shouted.
“Front door opening,” Ally Gemmell‘s voice advised on Rob’s radio.
“Copy.” Rob motioned Joe and Chris, and they swiftly moved to the door.
A burst of automatic fire sent pieces of the door flying and the three men hastily hugged the outer wall.
“Hit the lights and be careful. We don’t know who’s in there, I’m for the front door,” Rob yelled as he took off, feet crunching in the gravel as he ran. He heard Chris and Joe return automatic fire with short bursts of their own to take out the lights.
Ally spoke urgently in his earbud, “Vehicle leaving the warehouse, white Land Cruiser, coming out fast.”
Rob careened round the corner with the M27 at the ready and knelt in readiness to fire at the vehicle tyres. As he aimed at the fast moving vehicle, his gaze fixed on long blond hair spilling through the open rear window.
Justine?
“Hold your fire everybody; don’t take the Land Cruiser,” Rob shouted into his radio mic. He watched, stunned, as the vehicle rocked and bounced towards the main road. “Status?” he requested as reality kicked in.
“Warehouse is empty,” Joe replied in his ear. “What just happened there, Rob?”
“Justine was in the car.”
“What?”
“She was in the back seat, Joe. The window was open—purposely,” replied Rob quietly.
“You need to see this,” Chris announced.
Rob entered the warehouse and saw Joe and Chris at the back of the warehouse, standing outside what looked like a row of cells. As he approached, the dark end of the building, where the fluorescent lights had been shot out, he could see that the floors of the cells were strewn with sleeping bags and blankets. There were two rows of three cells and, as Rob walked into the first one, he could smell the aroma of sweat and human waste. There were metal buckets in the corners, empty but obviously used as rudimentary toilets.
“Looks like three, maybe four to a cage.” Chris leaned into the wall, his expression grim.
“No girls. though.”
“I don’t understand,” Chris said with a shake of the head. “We’ve been watching this place 24/7 since that boat arrived.”
“They knew,” said Joe. “They knew they were being watched. Could they have known you were here, Rob? And how did they know about Justine? They must have known about Lorna’s friend’s cottage. Shit. Have they got Lorna and Stella, as well?”
“Something doesn’t add up and I think I know what. I hope to God I’m wrong, but a few things are falling into place and I don’t like it,” Rob stated sombrely. “We need to find Lorna and Justine.” He hit the speed dial on his phone.
Justine’s phone rang three times before it was answered. “Well, well, the ‘Prodigal Son’ returns with a bang and quite a bang, too. I wondered when you’d show your face. What kept you? You’ve been here for days. How very remiss of you not to call round and see us after all this time.”
“Where are Justine and Lorna, Bruce? If you dare to harm them in any way whatsoever—”
“You’ll what, little brother?” Bruce asked sarcastically. “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to make threats, seeing as you don’t know where they are and I do. In fact, I can see them both from where I’m sitting.”
“I warn you, if you …”
“Now, now little brother, don’t upset me and don’t spoil my night. You’ve
put me in such a good mood. Here I am with not one, but two of your girlfriends. Lucky me, eh? You know, I always fancied shagging young Lorna. Not so little now, though. Turned into a right little beauty, don’t you think?” Bruce chuckled sinisterly. “And what about this new one? Now there is a rare beauty. Maybe I’ll have her first, then little Lorna. No, I’ve always fancied shagging Lorna, so she’ll be first, then your blond princess. Those titties of hers feel real, you know. What am I saying? Of course you know. How do you do it with that big scar on your face, Robbie? When we get together, we’ll have a nice wee chat.
“Well, you and me and a couple of my friends who are here. Just to keep things fair, you understand, and they’ll want their turn with these women of yours.” Bruce laughed loudly. “We’re out at Uncle Charlie’s cottage, so get yourself out here—on your own. This cottage has CCTV all round, so if anyone comes within a couple of hundred yards, we’ll see them. That happens and you’re dead, and your precious girlies will end up as gang-raped junkies in some city whorehouse. Do I make myself clear?” Bruce MacLaine ended the long-winded threat with more laughter.
Rob put his phone back in his pocket, knowing his demented brother was deadly serious.
“He’s trying to wind you up, Rob.” Joe hooked an arm around his back. “He wants you mad at him and not thinking straight when you go in there.”
A mix of determination, purpose and anger was visible on Rob’s set face. “I know exactly what he’s trying to do. Sixteen years ago, he’d have succeeded, but he doesn’t know me now. He has no idea what he’s dealing with here!” He straightened and smiled.
Joe knew that smile went no further than Rob’s lips. He met his ice-cold blue eyes and they said “if Bruce MacLaine so as much as touched one hair on the head of either women, his life would end violently”. He’d seen that intense coldness only twice before and a shiver skipped down his spine when he remembered the outcomes those hot dusty nights in Afghanistan.
“We need to handle this, without the rulebook, as Tony said. Can you lads stand by, in case this goes pear-shaped?” Rob asked the NCA team leader.
Chris nodded. “Do what you need to do. We have to report that there were no girls here and look at finding them. Keep us up to speed and good luck guys.”
“Right. Joe, board meeting. Let’s go,” said Rob signalling Joe to follow.
21
They approached the car park carefully, in case Bruce had misled them, but deep down, Rob knew Bruce wanted him at the cottage alive.
The two men crossed to the Land Rover and Rob drove in the direction of the cottage. He removed the radio and earbud, knowing Bruce wouldn’t let him keep them. As he drove, he outlined a plan to Joe.
Someone was passing information to his brother. He’d known that Rob was on the island and he knew about the scar on Rob’s face. He’d also known about Uncle Charlie’s cottage and had been expecting them at the warehouse. He was not expecting Chris Hall’s team to be there though, nor had he anticipated the Achravie Land Cruiser being blown up, but he knew too much for it to be coincidence or guesswork. Rob had a good idea who that someone was, but hoped he was wrong.
About half a mile from the cottage, well out of sight, Rob pulled over and Joe got out. He opened the back of the Land Rover and pulled out two bags, a rucksack, which he put on, and a large holdall. He waved to Rob as the vehicle pulled away and, having checked his bearings, set off into the night across the fields. He felt adrenalin start to course through his veins; it was just like old times.
Rob pulled into the drive and stopped. He took out his smartphone, made a connection with two numbers, and tucked the phone into a concealed jacket pocket. Then, as he started down the track to the cottage for a reunion with his brother, he thought back to the last time he and Bruce were together. How ironic he thought; someone died that night, too.
Rob knew that the noise of the big vehicle crunching over gravel had alerted everyone in the cottage as to his arrival, even without the CCTV. He pulled up at the far end of the parking area, took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped out. Showtime!
When Rob approached the slabbed area in front of the front door, it slowly opened. Someone stood behind it, out of view. He entered, and the door slammed shut behind. He didn’t turn; the man he wanted to see was standing behind two wooden dining chairs at the far end of the dining area. Justine and Lorna were tied to the chairs and, although looking very frightened, they appeared to be unharmed.
A heavily accented voice from behind ordered him to stop where he was. Rob ignored the man and marched forward, carefully watching his brother. He stopped beside the patio doors and stared coldly.
“Take your jacket off and give it to me, slowly,” the man who’d been behind the door said, pointing a handgun at Rob’s head.
He did as asked, looking the smiling man with a sizeable paunch in the eyes the entire time, but instead of handing the jacket to the gunman, he tossed it into a corner.
“I said, give me the jacket,” the man said gruffly.
“Frankly, mate, I don’t give a shit what you want. I’m here to see this piece of crap,” he said pointing at his brother. “The organ-grinder, not the monkey, if you follow me.”
“Ignore him,” Bruce said curtly. “He’s just winding you up. Check him for weapons, wires, phones, whatever.” He aimed a large handgun at his brother.
Rob held his hands above his head and the man patted him down as directed, finding the Heckler & Koch and a mobile phone; both he tossed to the side.
“You shouldn’t have come; he’ll kill you,” whispered Justine anxiously.
“He’s mad. She’s right; he’s going to kill you,” Lorna sobbed.
“Shut up. He already knows he’s a dead man walking,” Bruce muttered.
“Give me the phone, Bruno,” Bruce demanded, holding out a flabby, meaty hand.
The man tossed it over and re-aimed his gun at Rob’s head. Bruce pressed the call button on the phone. It didn’t connect to another device. He checked the call log and, satisfied that the phone was switched off, took out the SIM card, and snapped it in two. “There now,” he chirped, smiling smugly. “No one’s going to disturb our family reunion. Isn’t this nice, Robbie—oh, sorry, it’s Rob now, isn’t it?” Bruce walked round the women to stand before his brother.
“I know, long lost brother comes home; I’m supposed to give you a big hug and a kiss, and kill a fatted calf or something biblical like that, but that’s just not going to happen. You’ve messed up my nice little earner, little brother. That’s why you came, wasn’t it?” He glared at Lorna. “Little Lorna phoned you to come home and you did, like the Lone Ranger and Tonto rolled into one … riding into town to save the villagers from the nasty villain.
“Do you remember the night I killed Sheila Stewart? No, I don’t suppose you do. You were pissed out of your tiny little mind. You weren’t very bright then, and judging from where you are right now, you’re still not very bright.” Bruce glowered.
“My but my little brother has grown. Isn’t he big, Bruno?”
With a speed that belied his portly physique, Bruce lashed out with the pistol—fortunately, Rob had sensed the blow coming and swung away. The impact was minimal. And when Bruno aimed to punch him in the midriff, he tensed his stomach muscles. That punch, like the partial blow to the head, hurt.
Rob fought to catch his breath, but stayed on his feet; despite the blood flowing freely down the side of his head, he managed to meet his assailant’s defiant gaze.
“That the best you can do, Brucie boy, hit an unarmed man while your hired muscle holds a gun to his head?” Rob snarled. “You were a coward back then, and now you’re a fat pathetic coward … so much for human evolution. I think you’re safe enough from this one, ladies; he doesn’t seem man enough to shag sheep, never mind real women.” Rob’s laughter was harsh and mirthless.
Bruce swung at him, a hard punch to the side of the face.
He felt blood in his mouth, but laughed aga
in.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, will we eh! Let’s see what Brucie boy can do with a couple of beauties like these. Bruno, bring the blond over here,” Bruce ordered.
“He touches her, he’s a fucking dead man.” Rob stepped forward.
Bruno swung his handgun at Rob’s head again but in his haste it just glanced off his forhead.
“I wouldn’t touch either of them if I were you, Igor,” hissed Rob.
“ Bruno is my name, and Bruno is next in line for these two after Mr MacLaine has his way with them. I would not be so cocky, if I were you.”
“Cocky, now there’s an unfortunate turn of phrase, Igor. But seriously, my friend, have a look at yours.” Laughing, Rob gazed at Bruno’s groin.
Despite himself, Bruno glanced down and found a bright red dot hovering there. With growing horror, he watched the dot travel slowly upwards, over his stomach, till it rested on his heart.
Rob noticed the flabby man’s muscles tighten as he prepared to move; so did the man with the laser-sighted sniper rifle. The glass behind them shattered. Bruno was lifted off his feet as two sub-sonic rounds hit him in the chest like sledgehammers, and slammed him against the wall, a growing patch of crimson staining the front of his snow-white shirt.
The two women screamed. Lorna’s chair fell over as she tried to move away; Justine tried to turn away, but the bonds held her firmly in place.
Rob had reacted the second the bullets shattered the glass. He kicked Bruce, who seemed disoriented, and his toe connected with the soft underside of chin, knocking him over the dining table and causing him to lose his grip on his pistol. As Bruce tried to recover his balance, Rob swung a vicious blow into his lower ribcage and heard the snap of ribs when his fist connected.
He grabbed Bruce by the throat and pulled him upright, pushing him against the kitchen wall. His fist connected with his brother’s blubbery nose and blood sprayed forth. Rob hit him repeatedly, the fury which he’d felt all these years driving him on.