by John Connor
‘I killed him …’
‘You did. But now’s not the time to fucking worry about it. We have to get into cover.’ He pulled her away from the wall and dragged her into the open. They ran together across the space between the house and the lab. He still had hold of her arm. He took her round the back of the building. The jungle was right there, breathing on them. He thought they should bolt into it, keep running, get some distance between themselves and the house. Then he could talk to her, find out how they could get off the island, or where the emergency button was, or whatever it was they must have had planned for this kind of thing. But she pulled him back as he stepped towards the bushes. ‘I can’t,’ she said.
‘Can’t what?’
‘I can’t just run.’
‘If you don’t they’ll kill you.’
‘I don’t think so. I’m valuable alive. You should run, though. You should get away from me …’ She stopped. He saw in her eyes that she was terrified he would actually leave her. ‘Get away from me,’ she said again, her lips twisting. ‘You’ll get killed if you’re with me. Leave me.’
‘No fucking way,’ he said. ‘I haven’t a clue where I am. And we both need to run. I can’t just leave you. It doesn’t work like that.’
‘I have to help Janine,’ she said. ‘She’s my friend.’
He caught himself. Friendship was one thing, but this was extremity. It was everyone for themselves now. Besides, Janine had probably already been caught. God knew what had happened to her if this really was some kind of pirate attack. He held his tongue, went down into a crouch, listening intently to see if anyone was following. Still no noise. ‘OK,’ he said, gritting his teeth. ‘Where is she?’
‘In the house. Where we’ve come from. Ground floor.’
‘We can’t go back in there. There were …’ He stopped abruptly. They had both heard something. Footsteps coming from the area between the house and the lab. ‘Down here,’ she hissed. Before he could stop her she was flat on her belly and crawling fast through the undergrowth, back towards the lab wall. He went down but kept completely still, too nervous to move. Within seconds she was ahead of him, up by the concrete lab wall. He couldn’t see her but she was making too much noise. He wanted to shout at her to shut up, keep still. If someone came round the side now they would hear her at once. Then all they would have to do was fire at the noise. He could hear more shouting now, but from much farther away.
Then a shot. It sounded close. He flinched, covering his head with his hands. He held his breath, waiting. He was in shadow and half covered by the undergrowth. He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut, in a kind of instinctive flinch, certain there was someone standing there, at the very end of the lab block, looking down the line of the building, staring right at him, about to shoot. He started to count.
Nothing happened. He kept counting, reached eighty and exhaled slowly. He held his breath again, all his concentration on his ears. He waited some more. Still nothing. Then he could hear her whispering to him from the shadows, telling him to come, urgently. He opened his eyes and looked. There was no one there.
He began to inch forward, into the thicker bushes growing against the wall of the building, following her obvious trail, where she had flattened everything down. When he got through to the wall he realised she was underneath the building itself. It didn’t look like it was raised off the ground, but it must have been, because she had pulled away a section of fine mesh grilling, about two foot high, revealing some kind of space beneath. She had managed to wriggle underneath the actual building.
He followed her reluctantly into a tight, claustrophobic space like a coffin. He was crawling on compacted mud, into the total darkness. He got past her, his hands feeling the dirt ahead, his head pressed against the floor above, then waited while she pulled the mesh back into place and crept up beside him. ‘We have a drill,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘We go through problems and what to do … Jean-Marc made me do it every month. One plan was to hide here.’
‘And then what?’ he hissed. ‘What’s the rest of the plan?’
‘No more. I don’t have any more ideas.’
‘So why the fuck are we here?’
‘I don’t know. I’m terrified. Sorry. I’m completely terrified. We can crawl ahead, towards the light …’ His eyes must have been adjusting. He could see she was pointing now, see that there was light coming in from other sections of mesh, right over at the other side of the building. ‘We’ll be able to see the area behind the house,’ she said. ‘See what they’re doing …’
‘What good will that do?’ he hissed. ‘We should get out of here. Run.’
‘Not without Janine. And anyway, there’s nowhere to run to. The best we can do is hide until they leave …’
‘Not under here, then. Somewhere where we can breathe … until we can get help …’
‘How will we get help?’
‘There’s no emergency line … or anything like that?’
‘No. There’s a satellite phone facility at the other end of the island. About four hours away, on foot, by daylight …’
‘That’s it, then. We should get to it.’
‘We need to get to Janine first.’ She started to crawl ahead. He rested his head on the mud and tried to control the leaping panic in his gut. Then, very carefully, very slowly, he followed her. She had stopped about three feet back from another section of metal mesh, this one at the other side of the building, he guessed. He came up beside her and she pointed in silence. He looked through the holes and could see the area outside the big house, the flattened, cleared area between the lab block, the house and the summerhouse, beautifully lit by the bright full moon. There were shapes lying there, right in the middle. As he tried to make out what they were he saw two men emerge from a rear door to the house. They were carrying a body. A lifeless body. They dumped it with effort on top of the other shapes. ‘They’re all bodies,’ she spluttered. ‘They’re all bodies.’ She started to sob again, very quietly.
He felt very cold, frozen, like his blood had stopped flowing. He had never felt fear like this in his life. Not even close. It was completely numbing. He put his head down on the hard surface and started to shiver. For a minute or more he couldn’t do anything else. Beside him he could see her face – about twenty inches away from his. She was crying silently. ‘What do we do?’ she started to say. ‘What do we do?’ She kept whispering it, like she was going to really start kicking and shrieking. He took a big breath and reached a hand out to her. She jumped when he touched her, banging her head off the roof. Her eyes turned to him like those of some animal, totally overcome with fear.
‘Shut up,’ he whispered. He put a finger on her lips. ‘Shut the fuck up. Now.’
There was movement above them, inside the actual lab block, over their heads. He heard a door swing open, then there was a man right in front of them, legs moving in front of the grille. He was walking across the space in front of the lab. His legs stopped in front of the grille and Tom heard the crackle of static from a radio set, then words: ‘Max? You there?’
Another crackle, then: ‘Yes.’
The man was standing not four feet from them. ‘We can’t find her,’ he said quietly, in broken English. What was the accent? German? ‘They fucked it up. Went fucking crazy, shooting everything. Can you get over here?’
A short break, then a crackle and click. ‘Yes. I’m done.’
‘Any problems?’
‘No problems. He didn’t get far. It was a diversion, I think. But he wouldn’t let me near. He was armed. He got one of the Somalis. You clear at that end?’
‘You could say that. They shot everything that fucking moved. One left only. The woman – Mailot.’ A pause, then the man added: ‘One down here too. The target shot him.’
There was a longer gap before they heard the voice on the radio again. ‘Clarify. They missed the target and the other woman?’
‘No. Just the target. Mailot is here. I have her.’
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‘Fuck …’ More words followed, but in a completely different language. Russian? Whatever it was, the anger was very clear.
‘Suggest we just sit tight and wait,’ the one in front of them said. ‘We’ve got it all covered. The target will have to eat and drink. There’s nowhere to go.’
‘We can’t wait. It has to be sorted quickly. We have five days maximum. That’s the deal. And she could lie low for much longer than that. Or there could be interruptions before then – it’s likely there will be. It’s her birthday in five days, so anyone could arrive – people like this use helicopters like they’re taxis. They can get here quickly. She could have invited a cruise ship full of people. We have to find her now …’
The voice was silenced by the man in front of them cutting in. ‘But we can’t cover the whole island.’
Another pause.
‘I agree. But maybe the other girl can help. Wait for me. I’ll ask her.’
10
She scrambled too quickly back to the first mesh, making too much noise. Tom followed, grabbing at her legs, trying to slow her. She’d flipped, he thought. Something had snapped inside her. She was going to give them away, get them both shot.
But at the other side, back in the open, she stood immediately and moved straight into the jungle. She clearly knew where she was going, and he had trouble keeping up with her. She ran through the fronds with the gun in both hands, head down to stop the branches lashing her eyes. They were deep into the trees before he could catch up, grab her and spin her to face him. ‘What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?’
‘They’re going to do something to Janine,’ she panted. ‘You heard. I have to stop them …’
‘For Christ’s sake! You can’t stop them. There’s four of them. Maybe more. All armed …’
But already she was off again, heading downhill into deeper layers of fern that rose well above her height. He cursed and followed into the damp darkness. As the ground levelled out she pushed through to a narrow trail, with less vegetation around her legs, then started running along it in the half-light.
He had to stop her. Precisely what they wanted was to get her to break cover. If they were covering this trail then it was already too late. He kept pulling at her shoulder, trying to halt her, but she shook him off, kept going. She was much stronger than he had imagined. And determined. The trail was getting wider, moving uphill, the trees farther apart at each side, letting in more light through the gaps in the canopy. If they were up ahead, waiting for her, then she would be perfectly visible. ‘Sara, please stop,’ he cried, trying to whisper and shout at the same time. ‘Please stop …’ He was out of breath but managed to hold on to one of her arms and swing her sideways. She stopped and raised the gun. He thought she was going to hit him with the stock, but right then, from off to the left, they heard a woman starting to scream. Sara’s face twisted in pain and she started to run at full speed along the trail, completely careless. ‘It’s Janine,’ she shouted back at him. ‘It’s Janine.’
For a moment the options went through his brain. She was going to get killed, or captured. He was sure of it. So he didn’t have to follow her. She was no longer being rational, she was dangerous. The kidnappers’ plan was working. Get her friend screaming, get Sara out into the open. But he didn’t have to follow. He kept saying it to himself. He didn’t have to follow. He felt something scratching his arm and looked down to see three black ants – each as big as his thumb – walking across his bare flesh. He brushed them off, then glanced around at the hanging vegetation, the trailing creepers and darker areas above. There were wet, rotting plants all around him, soft beneath his feet, their smell thick in his nostrils. Already he had no idea where he was. Already his options were closing down.
One more try, he told himself. One more. He started after her again.
By the time he caught up she was at some kind of structure, hidden away in the trees, tall poles fastened together into a narrow platform, with a ladder going up. He couldn’t see the top clearly, but she was already pulling herself up the ladder. Was it one of the watchtowers? It looked less solid than the one he had seen from the dock, which had been a metal frame structure. He started up after her, the wooden ladder creaking with their joint weight. He wanted to shout again, to try to get her to talk to him, but he was frightened more than anything that the kidnappers were already right here, all around them.
As he got to the top of the ladder he realised it was some kind of observation tower, built to watch the monkeys, maybe. The floor was rough boards, the jungle hanging right there over the low railing. She was flat on her stomach already as he got off the ladder, the gun out in front of her, eye on the scope, like some kind of big-game hunter. He crouched down beside her but she reached out an arm and pulled him lower. ‘They’re there,’ she hissed. ‘Straight ahead. Get down.’
He lay flat, so that he was pressed up against her side, staring through a slit in a kind of rush fence that fronted the platform. He thought they must be about thirty feet off the ground. He could feel the platform swaying slightly. ‘What the fuck are you doing, Sara?’ He whispered the words into her ear, so close her hair was in his eyes. ‘Are you fucking mad?’ She was aiming the gun, ignoring him. He inched forward to see better through the slits and saw that she must have intended to find this place all along. She hadn’t been just running madly. The angle gave her a clear view into the area they had been watching from beneath the lab block, the area just behind the big house, though now from the reverse angle, from up behind the summerhouse. And now she had a clear field of fire. He could see figures moving around down there. The distance was about one hundred yards.
‘I’m going to stop them,’ she said. ‘I have to.’
‘If you shoot that thing they’ll know we’re here. They’ll fire at us …’
‘It’s a hunting rifle. It has a suppressor fitted …’
‘They’ll see the flash.’
‘The muzzle flash is suppressed too. They won’t see so clearly. They’ll hear something, but won’t know where it came from …’
‘If they look now they can see us, without you fucking advertising it. We’re already too close. Please listen to me. I’ve worked with these kinds of people. I have experience you don’t have. They will just start shooting blind. If you want to get us killed then fire that thing. Please stop and think …’
‘That’s Janine,’ she said. She started to shake. She had to bring her eyes off the sight. ‘Look at her. Look what they’ve done …’
He stared through the slit. He didn’t need the scope. They were close enough to see. There was a woman kneeling on the ground, next to the pile of bodies. The woman he had met last night, perhaps – Janine Mailot. But she looked different now. She was naked, he thought, blood streaked across her skin. She was crying hysterically. Just kneeling there, hands behind her back, crying. In the thick of the nightmare. He gritted his teeth. He could guess what they had done to her. ‘Christ,’ he whispered. ‘Christ Jesus …’ There was a white guy in view, standing behind her. He had a gun, though it wasn’t pointed at her. Was he holding her hair in one of his hands? Another guy – also white – was walking around the edges of the area, saying something. Nearer to the big house two black men were leaning against the wall, one squatting, smoking, both armed, both just watching the woman, as though something perfectly normal was going on.
‘There’s nothing we can do, Sara,’ Tom said. ‘The only thing we can do is get down from here, get to that phone and try to get help …’
‘They’ll kill her …’
‘No. They’re using her …’
Even as he spoke he heard a loud shout. Not the man standing beside Janine, but the other, who was out of sight now. What had he said?
‘SARA EATON!’
They both heard it clearly this time. He was shouting her name.
‘SARA EATON. I HAVE YOUR FRIEND, JANINE MAILOT. I HAVE HER HERE. IF YOU COME TO ME THEN SHE WILL NOT BE HURT. YOU
TOO WILL NOT BE HURT. THAT IS MY PROMISE. I WILL GIVE YOU TEN MINUTES. TEN MINUTES, THEN I KILL HER.’
There was a heavy accent to the voice. Tom took his eyes from the scene and moved closer to Sara, so his face was almost touching hers. ‘Let’s go,’ he said urgently. ‘It’s a trick. We have to get away from here.’ But she had her eyes on the scope again. ‘Don’t touch me,’ she said. ‘Don’t move.’ He heard her take a breath, then hold it. He reached a hand to pull the gun away from her. His fingers were less than an inch from the stock when she squeezed the trigger.
Suppressed or not, the report was deafening, the recoil kicking back into her so hard the entire platform moved. His jaw dropped, but his eyes were still focused on the scene ahead. He saw the man behind Janine punched backwards, on to his knees, then over on to his face. She’d hit him. She’d actually aimed the thing, fired and hit him. Tom was dumbstruck. He couldn’t believe it. She had just squeezed and fired while he was lying there uselessly, right beside her.
While he was still getting his head round it she fired a second round, making him jump again. He had imagined she would have to do something with the bolt first – maybe she had, but so quickly he’d missed it.
The black guys began to run now. ‘Stop. For God’s sake stop,’ he hissed. But it was too late. Someone started firing an automatic weapon. One of the black guys stumbled, then brought up a gun and started shooting towards them. Suddenly, there was tracer whipping through the air above them. He could hear the singing crack as bullets went over his head and thwacked into the tree trunks. He cowered down, pressing his chin into the boards, but Sara was still going, pulling a magazine from the gun, slotting in another, working the action. He kept his eyes open, squinting through the slit. He wanted to move, to get up and leap backwards, run. But his limbs were frozen with fright. All he could do was watch. The tracers came in short bursts, arcing upwards and zipping away to the left of them.