What sent me spinning from panic to outright hysteria was that I recognised the case. Three years ago, I had given the exact same cover to my sister for her birthday. She had complained she was always leaving her phone behind when she went out. The garish colour was an attempt to ensure she wouldn’t fail to notice it. To make it more distinctive, my nieces had decorated the back with stick-on yellow stars. Now the same brightly coloured mobile was in the possession of a man in his early forties with a pinched face and thinning grey hair. The two men were obviously working together.
Without conscious thought, I shoved the table away from me. I reached out to grab the laptop bag and lunged for the gap between the tables. My sudden movement stopped all conversation in the room outright. The smaller man leapt to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over backwards. He stood, blocking my route to the exit. Molly’s boyfriend remained seated, a frown creasing his forehead. As I barged past him, a voice called after me, “Wait!”
I ignored the command and rushed towards the counter. Molly was holding a milk jug over a mug of coffee. She stopped in mid-pour, her face locked in a state of surprise. A sense of outrage flooded my veins.
“It was you who set me up,” I snarled, spittle flying from my lips.
“I ... I don’t—”
Her mouth opened in shock. I didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence. I pushed the bag ahead of me and hurdled the chrome plated surface, sending the cup and milk container spinning to the floor. Scalding hot liquid soaked through the leg of my trousers, but I ignored the pain and barrelled through the door marked Staff Only. Sensing rapid movement behind me, I risked a backwards glance to see Molly’s boyfriend running towards the gap at the end of the counter.
A wall of heat hit me as I emerged into the kitchen area. My eyes rapidly scanned for an exit. A pair of stainless-steel, deep fat fryers occupied the centre of the room. To the right, a man in a white top with a blue bandana tied around his head looked into a large microwave oven, inspecting the contents. A few feet away, a similarly attired woman stood at a sink, running water over something I couldn’t see. They both jerked their heads in my direction at the sudden intrusion.
My gaze settled on the green and white emergency exit sign on the far side of the fryers. Other than the doorway through which I had entered, it provided the only possible route outside. I skirted the vats of boiling oil and prayed the way out was unlocked. I extended my hand and shoved the handle away from me. My heart sank as it refused to give. Cursing my stupidity, I realised it opened inwards.
I stumbled out into the cool afternoon air. A gust of wind caught the door but I desperately hung onto it. Slamming it shut behind me, I found myself in an alley leading down the side of the café. If I turned left, I would end up back on the pedestrianised road by the main entrance. I had no idea where the constricted pathway went in the other direction. I hesitated for a moment, unsure which way to turn.
The appearance of the smaller man, silhouetted against the narrow wedge of sky, took the decision out of my hands. I headed to the right, the red brickwork rising on either side of me.
A shout came from behind. “Hey! Stop!”
I sprinted at top speed, the breath hoarse in my lungs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this pace up for long. My only hope was that the man pursuing me was less fit than me.
I was forced to slow as the alleyway split at a T-junction. A rapid backwards glance confirmed only a single pursuer. He was twenty yards behind me, the rucksack slung across his back. What did he have in there? Did the bag contain a weapon? If it did, I needed to put enough distance between us to ensure he had no opportunity to use it. My spirits rose as I noted his face was already flushed from the chase.
Darting to the left, I lengthened my stride. My pursuer’s footsteps echoed off the sides of the building. I had no inkling where I was going. My only plan was to get far enough ahead to lose him. In front of me, the passageway opened out into a car park. I sprinted across the road, narrowly avoiding a car reversing into a space. The driver alerted me with a blast of the horn, but I skipped around the tailgate without stopping.
The parked cars gave me an idea. If I could find the way back to my vehicle with a sufficient head start, I would be able to drive off and leave him behind. First, I needed to get my bearings. I emerged onto the main road and raced along the pavement. Rush hour had started, and traffic was already building. Maybe I could flag down a motorist and ask for help. I glanced backwards. The distance between us extended to thirty yards: not yet far enough to risk stopping.
My arm was tiring from carrying the laptop bag. For a moment, I thought about ditching it. The computer wasn’t worth much, but it contained my only evidence of the dark web page. Slowing slightly, I swapped it to my other hand and resumed my original pace.
My gaze raked the skyline, trying to identify any familiar landmarks. As I turned my head to the left, I spotted the tower at the entrance to the shopping centre. Suddenly, I recognised my location; this was the road out of town leading to one of the major industrial estates. My car lay in the opposite direction. A stream of swear words spilt out of my mouth.
I needed a new plan. At the next junction, I veered left towards the warehouses and parking areas beneath the stores surrounding the plaza. I knew security guards patrolled the centre. If I could find a way inside the glass-domed atrium, I could ask one for help.
My pace increased as I followed the street in its descent down the shallow incline. Where it levelled out, I turned once more to estimate the gap to the man chasing me. He stood approximately eighty yards up the road, head down, his hands resting on his knees. He raised his eyes and stared at me although the distance was too great to gauge his expression.
A satisfied grin worked its way onto my face. He wouldn’t catch me today. In a display of overconfidence, I even threw him a wave.
I turned away from him and broke into a jog. That was when the sudden searing pain in my calf signalled a muscle tear.
Chapter 22
I pulled up immediately, clutching the injury. Somebody had inserted a red-hot metal rod in the back of my lower leg. I gently probed the area, wincing at the stabs of pain where I touched the torn muscle. When I looked up, it seemed the man had noticed my sudden standstill. At first, he walked. His pace quickened as I straightened up and tried to move.
I found I couldn’t place my full weight on the damaged limb. The best I could manage was an exaggerated limp. At this rate, he would catch up with me before I had covered more than a hundred yards. In mounting desperation, I continued along the road, searching for somewhere to hide.
Wide shuttered barriers lined both sides of the street. Most had an intercom system outside and a sign asking visitors to press the button for attention. I knew that even if somebody answered immediately, given the time I would need to explain my situation, there would be no opportunity to get inside before my pursuer caught up with me.
I was about to take my chances anyway when the rattle of moving shutters reached my ears. The grey panels diagonally opposite me rose at an excruciatingly slow pace. I hobbled across the road, casting anxious glances at the man closing the distance behind me. By now he was sixty yards away and accelerating as he arrived at the foot of the incline.
The rumble of a diesel engine merged with the clanking of the mechanism. By the time I had limped to the opening, the gap at the bottom had widened enough that I could make out the number plate of a white delivery van. Crouching, I scuttled beneath the rising barrier, groaning in pain as I did so.
I made my way along the passenger side of the vehicle, leaning against the bodywork for support. I emerged into an underground warehouse. Harsh, fluorescent lighting illuminated the grey, concrete interior. Scuffed, metallic shelving holding an assortment of brown, cardboard boxes lined the walls. White arrows painted on the ground signalled the route of the narrow roadway.
The sound of the van door opening echoed in the cavernous space. A voice called out from behind
me. “Oi! What’s your game?”
I ignored the driver and limped towards the low archway from which the road markings originated. My eyes scanned my surroundings, looking for somewhere to hide. I didn’t spot anywhere suitable. I hurried through the opening as fast as my injury would allow. The second half of the warehouse matched the first except for the concrete steps against the rear wall leading to a green wooden door.
I risked a backwards glance. A man in blue coveralls strode in my direction. “Hey, this is private property. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I hobbled towards the door, figuring it would lead to the shopping centre. I was still twenty yards short when a rough hand landed on my shoulder and spun me around.
The driver’s angry face jutted forwards. “Are you bloody deaf? I just said you can’t come in here.”
“I’m sorry. Someone’s chasing me. He’s trying to kill me.”
The man’s eyes widened in alarm. “What are you talking about? I didn’t see anybody else.”
I pointed towards the green door. “Does that lead out of here?”
He glanced back before replying. “Yeah, it comes out in a staff only area of the store but—”
“We both need to go. Now.”
“I can’t leave the van blocking the entrance with the engine running. If this is a windup ...”
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through from the other section.
“Come on,” I hissed, resuming my limp towards the door.
The man backed up, his eyes focused on the archway. He rummaged in the pocket of his overalls and withdrew a large set of keys. As he fumbled for the right one, my pursuer jogged into the warehouse.
A grin appeared on his face. “Not so cocky now, I see.” He reached behind him. When his hand came back into view, it gripped the handle of a knife. The bright overhead light glinted off the five-inch blade.
The delivery driver whimpered in panic as he tried to locate the correct key. He settled on one and fumbled with the lock, throwing anxious backward glances.
The armed man brushed a trickle of sweat from his forehead and strolled forwards. “You,” he said, pointing at me, “stay right there.” He continued to close the gap to the driver. “If you want to live, give me your phone and the key to that door.”
The keys jangled as the driver stretched out an arm. “It’s the one with the red t-t-tag. My phone’s in the van.”
I watched on helplessly as the man who had chased me for the last fifteen minutes twisted the key and pulled the handle towards him. He gestured to the open doorway. The van driver raised his hands and inched sideways, his back pressed against the wall.
“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” my pursuer growled. The driver needed no second invitation. He stumbled through the opening and raced up the staircase. The knifeman twisted the key, leaving it protruding from the lock.
Despite his instructions, I limped backward towards the exit.
He frowned as he stepped closer. “I thought I told you to stay there.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked with a trembling voice although I knew the answer had something to do with the five-thousand-pound contract. I’m not proud to admit it, but my bladder released at that moment. A patch of warmth spread down my inner thigh.
An expression of disgust occupied the man’s face as he glanced towards the expanding stain. “Christ almighty, have you pissed yourself?”
“Please let me go,” I babbled as I raised the laptop bag to protect myself.
The grimace morphed into a malicious grin. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
“Somebody ordered you to kill me.”
The man suppressed a snort of laughter. “If I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be having this conversation; you’d be lying on the ground in a pool of blood by now.”
A wave of confusion swept over me. “I—I don’t understand.”
The man folded the knife and returned it to his back pocket. “I haven’t been paid to bump you off. The contract is to keep you alive, although I have to say that after chasing you halfway across town, I was rapidly coming to the conclusion it was more trouble than it was worth.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “So, you ... don’t want to kill me?”
The man rolled his eyes. “You’re not particularly quick on the uptake, are you? This is going to be a long few days.”
“Let me get this straight. Somebody paid you to protect me. Is that right?”
“Bingo.”
“Who’s paying you?”
“Look, this whole thing is supposed to be anonymous. The person who contracted me said you would be expecting me.”
“Nobody told me anything.” A sudden thought occurred to me. I pulled the mobile out of my pocket and unlocked it. The icon at the bottom of the screen signalled a single unread text message. I tapped the display and scanned the brief note from the same unknown number.
Arranged for somebody to keep you safe. I gave him an old phone.
The man studied me with folded arms. “I take it my employer contacted you after all. It’s a shame you didn’t bother to read your messages before dragging me all this way. Anyway, much as I enjoy this whole getting-to-know-you business, we have to get out of here. I suspect our friend will be back soon.” He held out a hand. “And I need you to give me that.”
“The mobile?”
He nodded.
I handed the device over to him. “What are you going to do with it?”
He prised off the case, slid open the rear cover and removed the battery. Placing it in the breast pocket of his shirt, he returned the other parts to me. “If I can track your phone, so can anybody else. Let’s get a move on.”
“I can’t really ...” I gestured toward my injured leg.
The man shook his head. “You shouldn’t have tried to run away, should you? Put your arm over my shoulder.”
I did as instructed, and we hobbled side by side to the white van. The engine was still running, and the smell of exhaust fumes greeted us as he guided me to the passenger door. He helped me in, jogged around the front and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“We need to lie low for a few days. We’ll stay in a cheap hotel.”
“And the plan is to drive there in this?”
He twisted sideways and threw me a disdainful glance. Placing the van in gear, he swung the wheel to the left and accelerated up the service road.
“What are you planning?” I said as we took the first turn at the roundabout.
“Look, if I have to explain everything to you before we do it, it’s going to get very annoying very quickly. If you want to stay alive, there’s only one rule you need to remember; do exactly what I tell you when I tell you: no questions, no discussion.”
I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes. The stench of stale urine rose in waves from my crotch.
Five minutes later, my new protector guided the van into the last remaining space in a busy car park and turned off the engine.
Chapter 23
The man reached into the back seat and grabbed his rucksack. He pulled out a dark-blue hoodie and tossed it to me.
“Put that on,” he commanded.
Seconds later he handed me a pair of sunglasses. “Pull the hood up and wear these too.”
“What shall I do with this?” I asked, lifting the lightweight jumper I had removed.
“You can’t leave it in here, so you need to take it with you.”
“Is there room in your bag?”
The man gave me a hard stare. “What am I, your mother?”
I rolled my pullover tightly and stuffed it into the corner of the case. He studied the bulging material suspiciously. “What else is in there?”
“Only my laptop. By the way, what should I call you?”
He narrowed his eyes for a moment before replying. “You can call me Nick.”
“Let me guess. That’s no
t your real name, right? I’m Alex.”
Nick grunted. He withdrew a second hoodie and slipped it over his head.
“What’s the deal with the tops?” I asked.
“There are cameras everywhere. I don’t want to make it too easy for anybody to track us. I’ll lead the way. You follow at least ten yards behind. When you see me go into another car park, I want you to keep walking past the entrance. I’ll pick you up in a few seconds. Got that?”
I nodded. “Remember I can’t move too quickly at the moment.”
Nick opened the driver door, leaving the keys in the ignition. I followed suit and studied him as he strode towards the main road. The pain in my leg had reduced to a persistent ache, but even so, I struggled to keep up. Gradually, the distance between us increased until he had extended the lead to thirty yards. Hobbling as fast as I could, I was relieved to see him turn into another car park. As I continued along the pavement, I watched him approach a red Ford Focus and get in.
For a fleeting moment, I contemplated whether to leave him behind. If I crossed the road now, I could disappear into the shopping centre. Without the phone to track me, he would struggle to locate me again. But what would I do after that?
Jamie clearly thought somebody was trying to kill me and had paid this man to protect me. Should I stick with him or take my chances with the police? I remembered Jamie’s warning to stay away from the police, but was I any better trusting Nick? What would he do if I tried to escape a second time?
I didn’t have enough information to make an informed decision. The last two days had taken their toll, and the prospect of fending for myself terrified me. I decided to stick with my new guardian for the time being, so I carried on walking.
Assassin's Web Page 11