Anhur
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Rebus snapped his head around to Skink, anger rising again. ‘Well?’
‘It’s all under control, Rebus,’ Skink said. ‘I’ll see to the girl first as you ordered.’
‘Plenty of time for that later,’ Enyo said.’ Get the damn camp secure with men on the perimeter.’
‘I don’t take orders from you, woman.’
Rebus threw his head back and stared at the cloudless sky. He needed a hit of something to end the boredom of this. He liked that idea and looked back to Skink. Reaching for Enyo’s staff, he swung it around, catching the cowering man on the side of the head. ‘Do what she says, or I’ll let her make you a eunuch.’
Skink turned and jogged off.
‘What of the Bisons, lover?’ Enyo said. ‘We’re supposed to meet up with them the day after tomorrow.’
‘We’re kind of busy here,’ Rebus said. ‘We have prisoners here, and that topic is best for another place.’
‘I know, and it pains me to have to bother you with these details. It is urgent.’
‘It’s fine. Let’s step away,’ he said, taking her by the arm as they walked towards the hotel. ‘The meeting has to go ahead.’
‘Yes, but I suggest postponing a few more days.’
‘Wouldn’t it make me appear weak?’
‘Quite the contrary. It shows you have the power to boss them around too. Imagine your power at that meeting once you’ve handed over the Hooded Man and claimed that massive reward. You’ll be wealthy enough not to need them.’
‘Yes. The negotiations will be on our terms.’
‘Plus you’ll have more slaves for them by then.’
‘Make it happen.’
Chapter 33
Gatlinburg Inn, Gatlinburg Tennessee, USA – 2043
Four men dressed in 38 Roadster colours wound their way up the steep steps, stopping every twenty or thirty metres to rest. Gibbs scanned to the right and noticed a van had arrived in a flurry of dust at the top of the lookout point they were watching.
‘Another van has arrived,’ Gibbs said, handing Smithy the binoculars. ‘We need to keep our wits about us up here. Old Rebus is posting men all over the place. Something has got him spooked.’
Smithy grunted an acknowledgement and scanned back down to the main group in the town below.
‘How did you get these coordinates?’ Fingers said, sitting to Gibbs’s left. Blondie was his usual quiet self, leaning against a rock, rolling a joint.
‘I got a text from an old colleague, who’s travelling with that bounty hunter,’ Gibbs said, watching Rebus walking to a group of prisoners lined up in front of him.
‘That’s them,’ Smithy said. ‘I can see Stuart. Big Sal is also there.’
Gibbs grabbed the binoculars and looked at the small group. ‘At least the boy looks alright.’ He scanned the hotel parking lot. The prisoners were being marched out of the lot and into the road, herded to the left by three armed 38s.
‘At least we know he’s alive,’ Smithy said.
Gibbs handed the binocs back. ‘I think a night operation to get them would be better than a dawn raid,’ he said, rubbing his face with his gloved hands. He was parched. ‘Got any water, Fingers?’
‘I’ve seen that look before. You want to get down there now,’ Smithy said.
Gibbs nodded. ‘Of course I do. But attacking now, rather than at night, will only increase the panic and people will get killed. There are a lot of guns down there.’
‘I know. Do you think that it’s the full complement of 38s with Rebus?’
‘Barring the scouts that he has out and about, this must be it. Plus we don’t know if he has any of the Bisons waiting somewhere else.’
‘So what is the plan?’
‘Let’s get back down so I can call Andrei. Maybe they can be of assistance.’
‘Great plan,’ Smithy said. ‘Why don’t we get both groups who want you alive or dead, into the same town.’
Gibbs stood up, chuckling. He started to walk down the path. ‘Come on, Mother Hubbard. Let’s go and see if we can make it happen.’
Smithy caught up to Gibbs. ‘And just how do we manoeuvre this standoff into play?’
Gibbs heard a shout ahead of him. He dropped to his knee, fist raised above his head to signal them to stop and be quiet. More shouting, then laughter. Gibbs grabbed his Glock out of the holster. He heard a similar sound from Smithy behind him. Getting up, he walked down the path that criss-crossed over the top of the mountain range. A glance to his left and right showed no sign of Fingers or any 38s about. Smithy walked up close behind him.
‘Must be walking away from us, towards the truck. Are you sure it wasn’t the boys themselves?’
Gibbs shrugged and started walking again. Another shout, someone in pain, made him quicken his pace. Walking around a group of bushes on the right side of the path, he inched around and looked down the descending path.
Two 38 roadsters had captured Fingers and Blondie, who were being marched downhill to where the path levelled out. Their van and truck had been joined by a third vehicle. Gibbs lifted two fingers to let Smithy know. Smithy peered around Gibbs and nodded. He stepped out a little further and then leaned back quickly. Reaching into a canvas pouch on his belt, he pulled out a suppressor and handed it to Gibbs. Screwing it onto the front of the Glock would silence some of the noise. Stepping out into the path, Gibbs quickened his pace, his Glock raised in front of him to cover the group ahead. They neared a left turn in the path which meant the 38s only had to look back slightly to see the approaching men. Gibbs stopped near a large rock and went down on one knee again, looking back to see Smithy dropping to his chest on the path. Seconds passed. Gibbs snuck a look up to see the men doubling back on themselves, just about ten meters below Gibbs’s position. He could jump down onto them. Standing up, he raised the Glock, aimed and fired at the last man in the group. The thud echoed out as the 38 member dropped with a head wound, and the man in front of him spun around and shouted.
Blondie spun and tackled the gang member to the ground. Gibbs was up and running now, cutting down through the dried brown bushes.
‘Don’t kill him,’ he shouted.
Reaching the men, he saw a small blade protruding from the man’s chest, his mouth open in a silent scream. Blondie ripped the blade out and wiped it on the man’s roadster leather jacket. ‘Sorry, boss. Didn’t know you were up there. Had already stuck him by the time you attacked.’
Gibbs patted him on the shoulder. ‘Next time, hey.’
‘I think there may be more of them. One of these idiots said that John would be surprised to see what they’d caught when they got back down.’
‘He must have been left to guard the vans. Great. I want John alive.’
‘Why?’ Smithy said. ‘We know where bloody Rebus is.’
‘Alive, people. I want him alive.’
• • •
A gurgling sound was accompanied by bulging eyes, as Fingers’ grip tightened on the teenager’s throat. Forced up against the Roadsters van, he clawed at Fingers’ arm with his one hand. His other was hanging limp, the gunshot to the shoulder had shattered bone and nerve.
‘Okay, Fingers. Thank you for subduing him. I’ll take it from here,’ Gibbs said, pressing the suppressed Glock to the young man’s chest. ‘I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to tell me what I want to know. My fight is with Rebus, not you. Okay?’ The man nodded. ‘Good. Now tell me how long are you planning on being down there?’
‘We’ve been told about five days. Maybe a few more.’
‘Why did you leave the last place you were based?’
‘We’re chasing the Hooded Man, and he is somewhere south of here. All us scouts will start going south tomorrow.’
Gibbs smiled and looked to Smithy.
‘You’d have thought they knew you were here already,’ Smithy said.
‘I know, right,’ Gibbs said, looking into the widening eyes of the man. ‘What do you know of the Bounty
Hunter and NAG troops chasing me?’ The man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. Gibbs pressed the barrel into his chest again. The man winced.
‘I only know of the Bounty Hunter. Rumour in the camp is that Rebus wants to capture you and ransom you off to him. Other than that, I never get told much. My job is to clean up after the senior scouts.’
‘I believe you.’
‘Don’t take his word for it. Shoot him again. I think he is hiding something,’ Smithy said.
‘I’m not.’
Gibbs lowered the Glock. ‘I believe you. Now I’m going to let you go. Get into that van, don’t touch a weapon and drive away, or you die here.’
The young man nodded his head a few times and then inched away from them.
‘Before you go. You have to give this to Rebus. From me.’
The young man looked down at the small folded piece of paper, then reached across and grabbed it. Gibbs held on to it. ‘Get Rebus to contact me.’
‘What?’ Smithy said.
Gibbs held up his other hand. ‘Did you hear what I said, lad? Get him to call me.’
The young man nodded and took the note. Edging backwards, he turned and ran to the van and climbed in, wincing as he pulled his arm inside the vehicle.
‘Have you lost you frikkin mind?’ Smithy said. ‘You want to talk to that sack of shit?’
‘It’s time to negotiate.’
‘Negotiate what?’
‘A prisoner swap. All of them for me,’ Gibbs said. ‘He won’t be expecting that.’
Smithy spun around and walked away, his hand on his head. He turned back again and stormed up to Gibbs. ‘What bloody good will that do? That scumbag won’t negotiate. He’ll keep you all and exact his revenge on you and Stuart.’
‘Look at the bigger picture. We all stand a better chance if I surrender to Rebus rather than the Bounty Hunter, who’ll ship me off to God knows where. Stuart and the others will still be stuck with Rebus. Besides. Andrei is with the Bounty Hunter, so after I surrender he could come riding to our rescue.’
‘This is a daft plan, Gibbs,’ Smithy said.
‘Look around, mate. We are low on everything. Ammo, food, and most importantly, fighting men.’
‘We could hit them at night and rescue Stuart and Grace. Be in and out before Rebus knows what the hell has happened.’
‘What about the others then? They welcomed us to stay in Constance. I cannot just leave them in that man’s clutches.’
Smithy shook his head.
‘I will be a distraction that gives Andrei time to get here.’
‘Then the Bounty Hunter gets you in the end anyway.’
‘Maybe,’ Gibbs said, unscrewing the suppressor. ‘At least Stuart will be safe then, and that’s the priority.’
Chapter 34
Gatlinburg Inn, Gatlinburg Tennessee, USA – 2043
The two prisoners positioned as Rebus’s footstool moved slightly, sweat glistening off their backs in the midday sun. One’s head drooped down as he struggled to stay conscious.
‘If you collapse in a heap again today, I’ll slit both your throats,’ Rebus said, shuffling on the towel that had been placed on the plastic bench.
‘Rebus? You’re going to burn in the sun,’ Enyo said, sitting to the left of him, a large umbrella being held overhead by one of the new prisoners.
The empty pool of the Gatlinburg Inn was in front of them, green algae staining the once cream coloured walls. A dirty mattress lay on the bottom with the carcass of a white-tailed deer lying on top of it. Death by starvation after falling in.
‘My dear, I need to be looking at my fiercest when I meet the Hooded Man. And a tan will go a long way, I think.’
‘When are you going to call him? You’ve had his number for twenty-four hours now,’ Enyo said, sipping on a bottle of water.
‘I don’t want to appear too eager. He’s expecting me to call and is hiding nearby, so let him stew in whatever hovel he’s taken refuge in.’
‘Of course you’re right, lover,’ she said. ‘Have we any news from the scouts looking out for the Bounty Hunter?’
Rebus felt a drop of sweat running from his temple down the side of his face. He wiped it away. The Bounty Hunter was going to be a nuisance. Rebus rubbed his sweating back from side to side against the back of the chair. His legs tingled. Wiping the sweat from his closed eyelids, he swallowed hard. Soon this would all be over.
‘Go and get me something to drink and bring that portable tent pagoda here. It’s enough sun now,’ he said, kicking out at the prisoners who were on their hands and knees. They fell over onto one another and jumped up, scurrying back to the reception of the inn and emerging with a four-post pagoda.
Rebus waited until they had placed it above him before reaching to the floor for the satphone. He gestured to the prisoners, who grabbed two brown sheets and started to towel him off. The solid dial tone of the satphone droned on, then the snap of a sharp greeting in the other end made Rebus’s hair stand on end.
‘Well, Hooded Man. Are you going to do the sensible thing and surrender to me?’
‘Is that how you greet someone who’s killed more than half of your little bikers gang? It must bite your arse not to be able to get to me. I’m even considering contacting the Bisons, to let them know of your dwindling numbers.’
‘I’ll concede that you’ve been like an irritating dose of chlamydia, but considering I already have a cast-iron agreement with the Bisons in place for this region, it’s just down to us versus your army. An army of four, I’m told,’ Rebus said, laughing. He slapped one of the prisoners who was drying his chest.
‘Four is enough to sit by and slowly pick you off in groups of three or four. I have a scout van in my sights right now. It’s parked up, and the occupants are sleeping. We’ve planted an explosive with a remote detonator. If you listen closely, you might hear the explosion as your young men are ripped to shreds.’
‘Push the button then. I have all the young men I need.’
‘Oh? So young Luka survived then, did he?’ Gibbs said. ‘I’m glad.’
Rebus punched the nearest prisoner in the face. Enyo walked over to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked into her eyes as she exaggerated the intake and letting go of a breath. And again. He followed her rhythm.
‘You told my man that you want to surrender in return for my prisoners. Why the fuck would I do that?’
‘You moved your whole little army five hours away from safety, even closer to the Bounty Hunter and the NAG, just to get me. You want to exact your revenge. I can understand that, but I’m guessing the thought of all that money will override those urges. You’re a businessman struggling up the gang ladder. The money you get for me would rocket you to the top of the list.’
‘I’m touched that you care that much about my success.’
‘I’ll surrender myself once you’ve released them and they’re safe. Then you and I can have a proper chat.’
Rebus laughed out loud. ‘Sure thing. Tomorrow night at eight o’clock. I’ll drive the latest batch of prisoners out to the north end of the town. You’ll present yourself and your men to me on the south side.’
‘My men have nothing to do with this. They’ll be waiting in the north to escort the prisoners away from here.’
‘No, Hooded Man. If you want to do a deal, it’s you and your men for these pathetic Floodlanders. Nothing less.’
Rebus waited for a few seconds, then the Hooded Man said, ‘Okay. We do it your way.’
The line went dead. Rebus stared at Enyo, then back at the phone. ‘We have a deal. We will have the man who has tortured us incessantly and who killed my Luka.’
‘Be cautious, my lover. This is a seasoned military man. He must have a plan.’
‘I’m not stupid. Of course he has a plan. He is probably scoping us out right now,’ Rebus said, taking a step out into the sunlight, the warmth flaring through his naked body. He raised both his arms out to the sides and spun around
three times. ‘If he wants to walk down the main street right now, I’m ready.’
‘Why did he agree to surrender?’
‘The prisoners, of course. You know that.’
‘Something doesn’t seem right,’ Enyo said.
‘There are only four of them, girl. Stop worrying.’
‘Four that we know of. Who’s to say he hasn’t got more men along the way?’
‘Then we’ll take them all out.’
‘But why does he want the prisoners?’ Enyo said. ‘Is one of them special to him?’
Rebus turned to her for a second, then walked into the shade again. ‘Do you think that he has someone in this group who he’s in love with? He did react when we killed that little girl. Maybe her mother is in the group. Wouldn’t that make for a tasty scenario.’
‘They were pretty intent on getting into Constance.’
‘We have all the survivors here. You must be right. I’ll talk to them all again. If they refuse to join me as slaves and let me protect them, I’ll kill them,’ Rebus said. ‘This so-called warrior has a weakness for one of the prisoners. That will be his downfall.’
• • •
The sun on his face made Professor Paul Hoskins feel content after a hard day at his desk. It may also have been the half a bottle of whiskey he’d drunk, a present from his NAG benefactor for work well done in service of the NAG Department of Culture and History. If only the idiots knew.
The rattling of a rusty fan was strangely metronomic with the rhythm to lull an insomniac into slumber. It may have been the whiskey. A loud buzzing noise from the hallway outside his vast study went off three times, then twice. He smiled and leaned out from his old wing-backed chair. Looking to his right, he noticed Jonathan standing with his arms folded.
‘I bloody hope that’s not who I think it is?’ Jonathan said. ‘She’ll only bring trouble into our house.’
‘I want you to behave today, Jonathan. You don’t have to like her, but for me, you need to be civil at least.’
‘Of course I will, but if she starts something, I won’t keep quiet.’
‘Just go and let her in, please.’