Short Range (The Spider Shepherd Thrillers Book 16)

by Stephen Leather

  He looked around the room. There was an electric heater against the wall and he ripped the wires from that and used it to bind the injured man, ignoring the man’s moans and yelps. The man wasn’t wearing a tie so Shepherd pulled off his shoes and socks and tied the socks together to gag him.

  Once he had bound and gagged the two heavies, he waved his gun at Žagar. ‘Time to go,’ he said.

  As Žagar walked around his desk, Pritchard moved with him, keeping his gun aimed at his chest.

  Pritchard opened the door and went out, putting his gun back into its holster before beckoning the gangster to follow him. As Žagar walked out, Shepherd followed a step behind him, keeping his gun levelled at the man’s waist. They walked down the stairs and stepped carefully over the rope. The man taking the entrance fee looked over and his eyes widened when he saw Žagar. Žagar immediately said something in Serbo-Croat and the man smiled. Shepherd looked over at Pritchard who nodded. All good.

  Žagar spoke to the woman in the cloakroom, and from the way she hurriedly put her phone away, Shepherd figured he had told her off. They walked to the exit. Shepherd tensed. If there was going to be a problem it would be when Žagar was with the bouncers. That would be when he would feel the least threatened. His finger tightened on the trigger. The bouncers hadn’t appeared to be armed but they were big men and wouldn’t hesitate to get physical. They walked outside. The bouncers were talking to two long-haired blondes in miniskirts and knee-length suede boots. They turned to see who was coming out and were clearly surprised to see Žagar. Žagar patted one of them on the back and said something that made them laugh.

  Pritchard said something and the bouncers nodded. Shepherd kept the concealed gun trained on Žagar. If it all went wrong he’d put one bullet in Žagar, take care of the bouncers, and then shoot Žagar again. That was his fall-back position, but it wasn’t necessary. Žagar and Pritchard started walking to where the BMW was parked and Shepherd followed them. Only when they turned the corner did Shepherd relax. So far, so good.

  As the BMW approached the wrought iron gates, Pritchard spoke to Žagar in a quiet monotone. Shepherd listened. He knew nothing of the language but he could guess what Pritchard was saying. Something along the lines of ‘keep smiling and tell them that your car has got a problem and your two nice friends have offered to drive you home and don’t say anything that will tip them off that something is wrong because if you do you’ll get a bullet in the back of your head.’

  Žagar nodded sullenly. ‘Da,’ he said, which Shepherd did understand.

  Pritchard brought the BMW to a halt in front of the gates and pressed the button to open the passenger window. Shepherd had his Glock down close to the floor, his finger gently touching the trigger. If it went wrong and Žagar did call out for help then he’d shoot Žagar then the two guards and Pritchard would stamp on the accelerator and hopefully smash through the gates, but that was very much plan B.

  One of the guards approached the gate, cradling his shotgun. Žagar waved and spoke to him. Pritchard smiled at the man and nodded. Shepherd did the same.

  The guard opened the gates. Pritchard closed the window and drove through. He reached the house and parked next to the Bentley. ‘Nice car,’ he said.

  ‘Imported,’ growled Žagar.

  ‘Obviously,’ said Pritchard. ‘How much would a car like that cost in Slovenia?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Žagar.

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I have a car importing business. I acquired it through the company.’

  Pritchard nodded. ‘Must be nice not to worry about the price of things,’ he said. ‘Right, so this is what is going to happen. We will get out of the car. We walk into the house together. My friend here will have his finger on the trigger at all times and if we even suspect that you are trying something, he will shoot you dead and then we will shoot everyone in the house. Then we will take Liam and Katra but you and everyone who works for you will be dead. Are we clear?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Žagar. ‘I am not fucking stupid, despite what you seem to think.’

  ‘Once we have Liam and Katra we will leave and you are free to do whatever you want to do.’

  Žagar nodded and Pritchard smiled brightly. ‘Right, let’s get started.’ He opened the door and got out. Shepherd also got out, keeping his jacket draped over his Glock. He kept the barrel pointing at Žagar as the gangster slowly got out of the front passenger seat.

  They walked together towards the front door, Shepherd slightly behind Žagar, the gun pointing at the man’s left kidney.

  The front door opened as they approached. A heavy with a shaved head wearing an Adidas tracksuit looked at the three of them, frowning. Žagar spoke to him and the man relaxed and opened the door wide.

  They walked through into a large marble hallway. There was a massive modern chandelier hanging over their heads and a life-size model of a growling lion at the base of a curved marble staircase. There were four doors leading off the hallway, one of which led to a kitchen full of stainless steel appliances. A middle-aged woman came out, wringing her hands. At first Shepherd thought it might be Žagar’s wife but it was clear from her obsequious tone and his brusque reply that she was a member of staff.

  Žagar gestured at the staircase with his chin. ‘Uz stepenice,’ he growled.

  Pritchard nodded. They went up the stairs together, Žagar and Pritchard leading the way.

  The woman went back into the kitchen and the heavy in the tracksuit disappeared into one of the ground floor rooms.

  They reached the upper landing. Hallways led off left and right. To the right a man was standing facing them, his hands clasped over his groin. His head was shaved and he had a rope-like scar across his neck that looked more like a war injury than the result of a bar brawl. Žagar spoke to the man and the man turned and opened the door he was standing in front of.

  Žagar went in first. As Pritchard reached the heavy, he pulled out his Glock and jammed it against the man’s throat. He hissed at him in Serbo-Croat as he reached inside his jacket and pulled a pistol from the man’s holster. He tucked the gun into his waistband and pushed the man into the room. Shepherd followed them, taking his jacket away to reveal his Glock.

  Katra was lying on the bed, her wrists and ankles bound with duct tape. There was a strip of duct tape across her mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw Shepherd and she tried to speak but the gag muffled any sound.

  Liam was tied to a chair with duct tape and he had also been gagged. He grunted and strained at his bonds.

  Shepherd closed the door. ‘Against the wall,’ he said, gesturing at Žagar with his gun. Žagar did as he was told. The heavy followed suit as Pritchard motioned with his gun. The two men stood facing the wall as Shepherd hurried over to the bed. He put down the gun and carefully pulled the duct tape away from Katra’s face. ‘Dan,’ she gasped. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Shush,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be fine.’ He looked around for something to cut the duct tape but there was nothing obvious. He took his key ring from his pockets and used a key to hack away at the tape binding her wrists. After half a dozen slashes the tape parted. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him tearfully. ‘Steady,’ he said, untangling himself from her arms. ‘Let me get all the stuff off you and I can untie Liam.’

  He removed the tape from around her ankles, then went over to Liam. He gently pried the tape away from his son’s mouth. ‘What took you so long?’ Liam joked, but Shepherd could tell how scared he was.

  ‘Traffic was terrible,’ he said. ‘Are you okay?’

  Liam nodded. ‘I’ll be better when I’m out of here,’ he said.

  Shepherd pointed at the burn on Liam’s forehead. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ said Liam. ‘Can we just get the hell out of here?’

  Shepherd used the key to hack through the tape binding his wrists to the chair, then freed his legs as Liam massaged the circulation back into his wrists.r />
  When he had finished untying Liam, he went back over to Katra who was now sitting on the bed. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, sitting next to her. ‘Did they hurt you?’

  ‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I mean, yes, but not … you know …’

  She began to sob and Shepherd put his arm around her. ‘Where are your shoes?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Shepherd stood up and looked around. He spotted her trainers by the bathroom door and he went over and got them for her. ‘We’re going home now,’ he said.

  ‘Dan, I’m sorry, but Mia is in trouble.’

  ‘Mia’s back at the hotel,’ said Shepherd. ‘We’ll go and see her.’

  Liam went over to the window and looked out through the blinds. ‘Let’s get ready to go,’ Shepherd said.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Katra, starting to cry again. ‘This is all my fault.’

  ‘No, it isn’t, and don’t say that,’ said Shepherd. ‘Sometimes bad people do bad things.’

  ‘I thought if I came over here I could sort it out. I asked Liam to help.’

  ‘No, I offered to help,’ said Liam.

  ‘Guys, all that matters is that we get out of here, okay? Katra, put your shoes on. Liam, are you good to go?’

  ‘Can I have a gun?’

  Shepherd shook his head. ‘We’re not shooting our way out,’ he said. ‘We’re going to go downstairs and get into our car and drive away. No one is going to try to stop us.’

  ‘What about him?’ asked Liam, nodding at Žagar.

  Katra sat on the edge of the bed and started putting on her trainers.

  ‘What do you think?’ Shepherd asked Pritchard. ‘What do we do with him?’

  Pritchard looked over his shoulder. ‘He’s not going to let …’ Žagar pushed himself away from the wall and pulled the gun from Pritchard’s belt. He fumbled with the handle and as Pritchard turned, Žagar slammed the barrel against the side of his head.

  Pritchard staggered back, stunned.

  Žagar was surprisingly quick for a man of his size. He took two steps over to the bed and grabbed Katra, putting his left arm around her neck and dragging her to her feet as he pressed the barrel of the gun against the side of her head.

  Liam moved towards Katra. ‘Liam, no!’ shouted Shepherd. ‘Stay back!’

  Liam took a couple of steps back.

  Shepherd used both his hands to aim his Glock at Žagar’s face but Žagar kept moving, keeping Katra between him and Shepherd.

  Žagar glared at Shepherd. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘You think you can come here and threaten me? In my own house?’

  Shepherd moved to the side but Žagar kept Katra in the way. Katra stared at Shepherd in horror.

  ‘Let the girl go, Žagar. We can all walk out of here.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ said Žagar. ‘You’re going to kill me.’

  ‘Not if you let the girl go,’ said Shepherd.

  Žagar pulled Katra back, keeping the gun against her head, until he was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. ‘You go,’ said Žagar. ‘You leave now or I will put a bullet in this bitch’s head.’

  ‘Dad, shoot him!’ shouted Liam. ‘Shoot him before he hurts Katra!’

  Pritchard had his gun pointing at Žagar, but now he was in the doorway he could only be approached face on and Katra was in the way.

  ‘We just want to go home,’ said Shepherd. He had a clear shot and his finger tightened on his trigger but then the moment passed and Katra was in his sight line again.

  ‘Dan …’ she gasped, but then Žagar tightened his grip on her throat. She only had one trainer on, Shepherd realised; the other was by the bed.

  ‘You walk away and send me my money,’ said Žagar. ‘Then I will let the woman go.’

  Shepherd shook his head. He dropped his aim and had a clear shot of Žagar’s hip but he needed to be sure that his first shot was fatal.

  ‘If you hurt her I will kill you, I swear!’ shouted Liam, his hands bunched into fists.

  ‘Liam, let me handle this,’ said Shepherd, keeping his eyes fixed on Žagar, looking for the shot that would save Katra’s life.

  Katra began clawing at the arm around her throat. It looked as if she was getting close to passing out and Žagar was having trouble keeping her upright. Her eyes widened in panic and she opened her mouth but no sound came out.

  ‘Žagar!’ shouted Shepherd. ‘Let her go!’

  Žagar grinned. He aimed the gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The bullet thwacked into the ceiling and flecks of plaster sprinkled down like a light snow fall.

  They heard shouts from downstairs. Shepherd looked over at Pritchard. They had only seconds before Žagar’s men would be outside the door. Pritchard grimaced. ‘I’m out of ideas,’ he said.

  Shepherd looked back at Žagar. ‘This doesn’t have to go this way,’ he said. ‘Just let us go. No one else needs to get hurt.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ shouted Žagar. ‘This is my home! My fucking home! Who the fuck do you think you are?’

  Shepherd took a step back. He pointed his gun up at the ceiling but kept his finger on the trigger. ‘I just want my family back. That’s all I want. Nobody else needs to die.’

  There were rapid footsteps on the stairs and muffled shouts.

  Žagar grinned in triumph. ‘Fuck you!’ he said, and pulled the trigger. The side of Katra’s head exploded and blood splattered across the bed.

  Liam screamed in horror.

  Shepherd’s mouth opened and he blinked, unable to process what he had just seen. Time seemed to stop. He could see the blood spraying from Katra’s head; he could see the look of disbelief in her eyes; the snarl on Žagar’s face; the gun, ready to fire again; Pritchard turning to look at Žagar; the heavy preparing to rush Pritchard.

  Time picked up speed again and Katra fell to the side like a marionette whose strings had been cut. She fell onto the bed but immediately rolled off and sprawled across the floor, smearing blood across the bedding.

  Liam rushed towards Žagar, his arms outstretched, fingers curled into talons. Žagar was roaring now and turning the gun towards Liam.

  Shepherd fired twice and both shots hit Žagar in the head. Shepherd felt no satisfaction as the man fell to the floor, his face a bloody mess. He felt nothing at all.

  The heavy was grabbing for Pritchard’s gun. Shepherd turned and fired, shooting him in the chest.

  There were more shouts outside. Shepherd gestured for Pritchard to move to the side and he fired through the door three times. There was a grunt and the sound of a body falling to the floor.

  ‘Liam, get down,’ shouted Shepherd. Liam did as he was told, kneeling behind the bed.

  Pritchard was down in a crouch, his gun in both hands. ‘Door,’ said Shepherd, moving to the side. They had to move quickly; if it became a siege situation it would end badly.

  Pritchard shuffled forward, still bent low, and used his left hand to turn the door handle. He pulled the door open and stepped back. As the door swung open, Shepherd saw the man in the tracksuit lying on the floor. He was still alive and holding a pistol. Shepherd shot him in the head and then ducked out. The stairs were to his right so he kept low and swung the Glock in that direction, letting off two quick shots to keep any attackers on the back foot. He stepped over the body of the man he’d shot and saw there were two men in the hallway, one with a shotgun, one with a pistol. Shepherd shot the guy with the shotgun first, two quick shots to the chest, then moved to the left and fired as the guy with the handgun pulled his trigger. Both guns fired at the same time. The heavy’s shot went high and whizzed by Shepherd’s left ear, embedding itself in the wall. Shepherd’s shot hit the man in the throat and blood gushed down his shirt front. The gun was still pointing in Shepherd’s direction so Shepherd fired again and put a bullet into his heart. The man fell to the floor.

  Shepherd had fired fourteen shots. There had been fifteen in the clip. There were
more shouts from downstairs and Shepherd rushed down the hallway. There was no going back now.

  He picked up the dropped shotgun and tucked the Glock into his belt. The shotgun was a Mossberg 500, five cartridges in the magazine and one in the chamber. It was a nice weapon and appeared brand new. The ambidextrous safety was already in the off position. Shepherd couldn’t tell what type of cartridges it contained but no matter what they were they would be good for shock and awe. He reached the top of the stairs and looked down. There were three men heading up, brandishing pistols. He pointed the shotgun at the man in the middle and pulled the trigger. The shotgun kicked in his hand and the blast knocked the man backwards, reducing his face to a mangled mess. From the damage Shepherd guessed the weapon was loaded with magnum shells. He ejected the spent cartridge, pumped in a second round and shot the man on the left, then ducked down to reload. Two shots smacked into the wall behind him, then he stood up and fired in a smooth, fluid motion. The shot caught the man square in the chest and he fell over the banister and hit the marble floor with the sound of a wet towel slapping against a wall.

  The heavy who had taken the second shot was sitting with his back to the wall, blood pouring down his chest. He was still holding his gun and he raised it with a shaking hand but then the life faded from his eyes and the gun clattered on the marble stairs.

  ‘Dad, look out!’ shouted Liam.

  A man appeared from the kitchen wearing a long black coat and flat cap, holding an Uzi. Shepherd started to pump in a new shell but he knew he was going to be too slow and was bracing himself for a hail of bullets when there were two rapid shots from behind him and the man with the Uzi staggered back. Shepherd took a quick look over his shoulder. Liam was at the top of the landing, holding a Glock with both hands. Pritchard was standing behind him. As Shepherd watched, Liam fired a third time.

  The man with the Uzi fell onto his back, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling.

  Shepherd stepped over the two bodies on the stairs and went down to the front door. There were at least two guards outside, probably more, and they would have been certain to have heard the shots.