Closer Than Blood

by Paul Grzegorzek

  Whatever was said next was lost in the distance. I could hear voices, but the words were impossible to make out.

  “What’s happening?” I whispered to the driver, who remained at the wheel, fingers tapping the leather nervously.

  “They’re talking,” he said.

  “Any sign of Sally?”

  “No, there’s no one else but him. Wait, they’re bringing the Russian this way. Hide.”

  I pulled an old coat over myself, trying not to breathe in the stink of its previous owner.

  A moment later I heard footsteps again and then Agon’s voice.

  “As you can see, it’s just us.”

  “Fine.” Andrei sounded keyed up, ready to fight. “Come up to the buildings. Follow me.”

  Andrei walked away and the Albanians climbed in. Once the door was shut, Agon pulled the old coat away.

  “So far so good. We’ve got our meet, so relax.”

  “Relax, he says,” I muttered, staying wedged behind the seat. “Do you really think this is going to work?”

  “I do,” he said. “But this was the easy part. The moment we meet their boss and hand the drive over, all bets are off. I hope you’re ready to get blood on your hands.”

  “Always,” I replied, and the van began to move.

  Chapter 45

  The building turned out to be one of several spread across a large expanse of concrete at the edge of the woods. It appeared, I noted as I watched Agon and his men walking away from the van, as if someone had started to build an industrial estate and then given it up as a bad job.

  There were half a dozen buildings I could see, mostly made from corrugated iron with a couple that were built from breezeblocks. Only two of them looked like they had ever been used, and that must have been years ago judging from their state of disrepair. The insignia was parked in front of the nearest solid-looking building, and next to it stood Svetlana and Andrei.

  I crouched in the bushes off to one side, having jumped out of the van just as the buildings came into view and then cut off through the undergrowth to my left. I began to work my way around in a circle, always keeping the buildings in sight. When I judged I was parallel with the Russians, I crawled forward and peered out into the built-up area.

  I’d gone further than I thought, and now half the Insignia was between me and the two groups, who stood some twenty feet apart. You could see they were all uneasy. Even Svetlana seemed tense as they discussed their deal.

  “You have the drive?” Svetlana asked, her voice faint with the distance.

  “I do,” Agon confirmed, “so let’s trade.”

  “Not so fast. If you’re here to trade, why do you have men in the woods?”

  I went cold, thinking she meant me, but then I remembered Agon’s other men, the ones who had passed us on the road.

  “Insurance,” he didn’t miss a beat. “You strike me as people to take seriously.”

  “Send them away, then we deal.”

  “Really?” Agon laughed. “Why would I do that? If I send them away then there’s nothing to stop you from killing us and taking what you want.”

  “I could do that anyway,” Svetlana said, and Agon stiffened, “but I just want the drive and your terms are not unreasonable. Send your men away and we can make the exchange.”

  Agon glared at her for a moment, but then pulled out his phone and made a call. At the same moment, thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, a long, low growl that filled the air with menace.

  Most of the group looked up into the dark sky, and I took the opportunity to break from cover, crossing the gap between me and the nearest corrugated iron building in a pelting run. I was only exposed for a few seconds, but it felt like a year as I tried to move both fast and silently. No shouts of alarm came, however, and I checked my speed in time to avoid slamming into the metal. Breathing hard, I crouched and began to move along the back of the building. It was hard going, with brambles and other undergrowth seemingly designed to trip me up, but as I reached the far end I was rewarded with the sight of the second man, Andrei’s usual partner, holding Sally just out of view of Agon.

  They were pressed up against the wall of the nearest breezeblock building, next to a metal roller shutter. To get to them I’d have to cross the open space between my building and theirs, which would put me in plain view of the two groups by the vehicles. My only other choice was to go back into the woods and try and circle around, but the brambles were so thick that I doubted I could do it in time.

  The distance between us was about thirty feet. Not ideal, but I could probably cover the gap before Sally’s captor could react.

  Thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and the air almost shimmered as rain began to hiss down out of the darkening sky, soaking me in seconds.

  I looked across at Sally’s face, willing her to see me. Her features were drawn into a deep frown, and she sagged against the wall, as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. I just had to hope that she was alert enough to help when the time came. The only saving grace was that the knife had been removed and a rough bandage applied to her thigh.

  “They’re gone,” Agon’s voice drew my attention back from Sally to the two groups facing off against each other, hair plastered to their faces by the pelting rain. I put my eye to a crack between the iron walls of the building and was rewarded with a narrow view of the man as he put his phone away.

  Svetlana said something in Russian, then spoke in English again.

  “They can remain by their cars. If they try and move forwards again they will be killed.”

  “So now can we deal?”

  “Show me the drive.”

  Agon reached into his pocket and held up a small, silver USB stick, cupping it protectively against the rain.

  “Show me the woman.”

  A gunshot echoed through the woods, making me flinch. I looked back to see Agon collapsing with a red stain spreading across his shirt.

  Another shot rang out and one of his men went down. The other pulled his pistol and began to let off rounds towards the Russians, backing away as he did so.

  Using the commotion as cover, I burst from my hiding place and ran full tilt towards Sally as the gunfire to my right intensified. She saw me coming a split second before her captor did, and despite her obvious pain she straightened and threw an elbow up into his face.

  He staggered backwards just as I reached them, not slowing as I dropped and slammed a shoulder into his gut. The force of my charge lifted him off his feet and drove him into the wall. He let out a strangled grunt, winded, and I stepped back and kicked him in the temple as he fell.

  His eyes rolled up in his head as he landed, unconscious at Sally’s feet.

  “You took your time,” she leaned back against the wall.

  “Not for lack of effort, I assure you.” I paused for breath, putting a hand against the knife wound Svetlana had given me what felt like a month ago. “Can you walk?”

  “I don’t think so, hang on.” She eased her weight onto her injured leg, one hand resting protectively on the bandage over the top of her trousers. She groaned in pain and almost immediately a red spot appeared on the bandage, spreading rapidly. “Fuck.”

  “Just sit tight,” I flattened myself against the wall and risked a glance around the corner at the raging gunfight.

  I ducked back as a round struck the brickwork inches from my face. We couldn’t cross back to where I’d come from, not at the slow pace Sally would have to maintain.

  Andrei was down, his head a bloody mess that painted the front window of the Insignia with dripping gore, but Svetlana and one Albanian were still up and shooting. He had made it to the van, but the driver was slumped over the wheel behind the cracked windscreen. Svetlana had hidden behind the Insignia and was using it as cover, occasionally popping up to fire shots that slapped into the body of the van with a metallic thud.

  “We can’t go that way,” I said to Sally. “We need to get inside the building and find c
over.”

  “Won’t whoever wins come looking for us?”

  “Probably, but better that than staying here, we’re sitting ducks.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?”

  “Inspiration,” I muttered, putting her arm around my shoulder and half carrying her into the darkness of the building as the gunfight raged on behind us, the shots almost drowned out by the torrential rain.

  Chapter 46

  That inspiration struck in the form of the phone the NCA had given me. In the excitement I’d all but forgotten I had it, but when I finally put Sally down on the floor of a disused office on the top floor of the building, I pulled it out and checked.

  I had signal, and I also had no fewer than forty-seven missed calls and a dozen text messages from a single number. The messages all said a variation of the same thing:

  Where the hell are you?

  But when I dialled the number it rang for an age before Patterson finally answered.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded angrily, his voice slightly muffled. “I told you to wait for my call and instead you start a bloody gang war!”

  “I was trying to save Sally’s life. Which I’ve done. For now, at least. We’re in an abandoned industrial estate near Haywards Heath, but there’s a gunfight going on downstairs. Think you might be able to help?”

  “We know where you are, we’ve been tracking your phone, but we’re twenty minutes away at least. Can you secure the drive?”

  “Fuck the drive,” I said as a fusillade of shots sounded from outside, echoing faintly over the phone. “Whoever wins this is going to come looking for us.”

  “Then they’ll bring the drive to you. Whatever happens, we must not lose it. I can’t stress how important that is. If they do come looking for you, stay alive and out of sight until we get there.”

  “Easier said than done,” I replied, but the line was dead.

  “What’s going on?” Sally asked, sat against a wall with her injured leg out in front of her.

  “The NCA are coming, but it’s going to be at least twenty minutes.”

  Another shot sounded from outside, this one the deeper cough of a heavy rifle followed by a shouted conversation in Russian.

  “Stay here,” I said, as if she could go anywhere. “I need to see what’s happening.”

  “No, wait,” she said, but I was already out of the door and into the corridor, looking for a room with windows that faced the front. I found one at the far end. Wary of the ominous silence from outside, I crouched and crept over to the window.

  Outside, I saw a scene of devastation.

  All the Albanians were dead. Svetlana and another two men approached the van with weapons raised, sprinting from cover to cover through rapidly spreading red puddles.

  I couldn’t work out why until the rifle boomed again, chips flying out of the concrete as the round landed an inch from Svetlana’s foot.

  “What the fuck?” I breathed. I’d assumed the sniper was hers, so why were they shooting at her? Unless the Albanians had one too, but Agon hadn’t mentioned a sniper. Besides, if he had access to that kind of hardware, why put himself at risk? He could have shot Svetlana as soon as she showed herself.

  As I watched, Svetlana broke cover, sprinting towards Agon’s body. She threw herself down and rolled just as the rifle fired again, the round whistling through the air where she’d been just a moment before and smacking into Agon’s body.

  Svetlana rolled to her feet with the flash drive in hand and sprinted towards the building, disappearing out of my sight as her men began to follow.

  I scooted back from the window and ran to where I’d left Sally. As I approached the office, I noticed spots of blood on the carpet from her leg. Looking back towards the stairs we’d climbed to get there, I saw a neat trail leading all the way down, accompanied by the occasional damp footprint.

  “Shit.” I crossed to Sally. “We need to move, we’ve left a blood trail.”

  I took my jacket off and wrapped it around her leg, knotting the arms over the wound.

  “Where?” she asked as I helped her up and we began a laborious walk with her arm draped over my shoulder again.

  “Back down a floor, there’s another staircase at the far end.”

  “Bell!” Svetlana’s voice echoed through the building from somewhere below. “We have what we want, so if you come out now we can all go on with our lives.”

  “Then why does she want you to come out?” Sally’s tone was quiet and resigned. “She’s going to kill us, isn’t she?”

  “No. Not if I have anything to do with it. Come on.”

  I half dragged, half carried Sally to the far stairwell, then pushed the door open and eased her through it as silently as possible.

  “What I’d like to know,” I whispered as we began the slow climb down to the floor below, “is how she knows I’m here. Or still alive, for that matter.”

  “I don’t really care right now,” Sally replied, “we can figure that out later. If there is a later.”

  “Hey.” I stopped and turned to face her, cupping her cheek with my free hand. “Listen to me very carefully. We are going to survive this. You owe me a glass of wine.”

  “You get us out of here alive and I’ll let you go all the way to fourth base,” she said, her voice a little more like the Sally I knew.

  “Deal.” I grinned at her and she smiled in return, although faintly. “Who knew that all it would take for us to get on was the fear of imminent death?”

  I lifted her again and we resumed our slow plod down to the next floor. Despite the levity, there was no way we could hide out and wait for the cavalry to arrive. No, if we were going to survive then there was only one real choice. I would have to go on the attack.

  Chapter 47

  There were three floors, all of which had a number of offices, at least one kitchen and several toilets with ripped-out plumbing and bits of plasterboard and plastic piping all over the floor.

  It was one of these that I deposited Sally in, tucking her behind the door and then leaving it half open so that it would appear empty to the casual observer.

  “Take this,” I passed her Agon’s small taser.

  “Thanks. Be careful, yeah?”

  I nodded and touched her face briefly before stepping back and making sure she couldn’t be seen from the corridor. A tiny drop of blood stained the door at waist height, and I hurriedly rubbed it off with the hem of my t-shirt.

  Satisfied there was no further trace, I ran back to the rear stairs and down to the ground floor. I pulled the door open quietly, scanned the corridor. I could hear footsteps in the distance, but no one was in sight, so I slipped out and began to search for something I could use as a weapon.

  As far as arsenals went, the place was depressingly bare. Everything of worth had been stripped out to leave the building little more than an empty shell, and none of the workmen who’d emptied the place had been kind enough to leave any of their tools behind.

  After almost five minutes of searching, stopping every few seconds to listen, the best I could come up with was a four-foot length of thick cable torn from one of the trunking runs on the walls.

  It was far from ideal, but beggars can’t be choosers. Now armed, albeit dubiously, I went on the hunt.

  As I crept along, head tilted to one side to catch the slightest sound, my heart began to pound as adrenaline flooded my body once more. My fingers began their old, familiar tremble. My hearing sharpened to the point that I swear I could hear breathing. The man who’d been guarding Sally rounded the corner – that was how Svetlana knew I was there.

  He was in bad shape, that much was clear, with a huge swelling where I’d kicked him and one hand holding his ribs, but he was armed and looking for me. It was unfortunate for him that he found me.

  He just had time for his eyes to widen before I pounced, holding the cable at both ends and looping it around his gun hand. A quick spin and a twist and his pistol w
ent flying while I used his own hand, now bound in the cable, to punch him in the face.

  He shouted in pain and alarm and threw a wild punch with his other hand. I ducked it, letting go of the cable to deliver a thundering uppercut to his gut as I straightened.

  He folded around my fist, gasping like a landed fish until I kneed him in the face and he dropped to the floor.

  “One down,” I muttered, stripping his belt off and quickly using it to secure his wrists to his ankles. Once he was immobilised, I dragged him into a nearby office and then went back for his pistol. For a brief moment I considered using it, but I hate guns. You want to know why, ask Simon Tate.

  Instead I dropped the magazine out and shoved it in my pocket, along with the round that had been chambered. I was about to throw the pistol in another room when I changed my mind and shoved it into my waistband.

  My first takedown had been surprisingly easy, but he’d been injured already. I still had to deal with Svetlana, two men and a mystery sniper who might or might not shoot at me depending on who he was. The last I could leave for the NCA to find, but the others needed to be stopped before they found Sally.

  I checked the rest of the floor and then moved back to the first stairwell, pausing to listen before climbing to the second floor. This was the floor that Sally was on, and so I wanted to check it again before heading up to the third where the trail of blood led.

  It’s fortunate that I did. As I rounded the first corner I saw both men clearing the corridor room by room, going in and checking each one in a manner that screamed of professional training. One would enter while the other covered, then followed in and moved in the opposite direction to the first.

  They came back out the same way, which was how they spotted me even as I ducked out of sight.

  “On zdes’! One of them shouted, which it didn’t take a genius to work out meant ‘He’s here’ in Russian. Conscious that they were only a few doors away from Sally’s hiding place, I stuck my head back around the corner to make sure they were following and almost got it shot off for my trouble.