Close Range

by Nick Hale

  ‘Let me try.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Jake. What? She’s going to kick it down? No way could she kick through a door.

  Abri took one of the pins from her hair and dug around in her bag. She fished out a nail file. Crouching by the lock, she inserted both. Her tongue played along her top lip as she concentrated, fiddling the file and pin up and down. The lock gave a soft click.

  She didn’t learn that on the catwalk, thought Jake, impressed.

  Inside, the church was gloomy and cold, and no light streamed through the stained glass. All of the lighting equipment and photo-shoot set-up had gone. The only signs that anyone had been here were a few cigarette butts, some discarded wiring and Granble Diamond Company business cards left stranded on the floor.

  Jake wondered if whoever was in that suspicious silver Fiat might have guessed their destination.

  ‘Let’s be quick,’ he said.

  ‘Follow me.’ Abri paced quickly up the central aisle towards the front of the church. When she got to the altar, she stopped and threw off the black cloth that covered it. This was the very scene of the crime. What’s she doing?

  He saw there was a double-door compartment in the back of the altar, which Abri pulled open. She reached inside to a shelf and brought out two velvet bags.

  ‘Monique already took hers,’ she said sadly.

  She closed the doors and laid out the cloth on top of the altar again, then loosened the drawstrings on the bags and carefully tipped the contents on to the altar.

  Jake gasped as the stones seemed to sparkle from a thousand surfaces at once.

  ‘If those are fakes,’ he said, ‘they’re awesome ones.’

  ‘You’re telling me,’ said Abri, lifting a necklace and placing it against her tanned neck. ‘I saw drawings of all the Granble pieces before the shoot, and these are identical to the real thing.’

  ‘Then someone on the inside must have made them.’

  A shuffle of footsteps filled the silence of the nave, and Abri’s head snapped up.

  Jake scanned the shadows. Abri’s breathing was heavy beside him. He pulled her away, behind the lectern.

  ‘Who is it?’ she hissed.

  Jake put a finger to his lips. Whoever it was, they were in trouble.

  He heard the slow click of shoe-heels on the flagged floor of the church, and peered round the edge of the lectern. No one appeared.

  Shit. The diamonds were still on top of the altar. Apart from the necklace. He looked at it, dangling from Abri’s hand. She seemed to understand, gave a small nod, then dipped it down her top.

  Clever, thought Jake. If we get out of this, that might be the only evidence we have.

  It was a very big ‘if'.

  19

  ‘You shouldn’t have taken what wasn’t yours,’ said the voice. South African.

  Jake peered out again, between the panels of the lectern. At the back of the church was the stocky figure of Granble’s right-hand man, Jaap, and he was carrying what looked like a submachine gun, strapped over his shoulder and aimed at the floor.

  ‘The good thing about this place is that it’s out of the way,’ he said. ‘Just a pity that two more kids with such promising futures will have to die.’

  He hardly sounded sorry.

  ‘No one needs to get hurt,’ said Jake. ‘Just take the diamonds, and go.’

  The footsteps stopped. ‘That’s not how it works,’ Jaap said. ‘Mr Granble doesn’t want any loose ends.’

  ‘We won’t tell anyone,’ promised Abri. ‘Why would we? We’d end up in prison for theft.’

  Jaap gave a low chuckle. ‘Nice try, sweetheart.’

  Jake guessed that the South African was still six metres away. Their best chance was to split up, divert his attention. He tapped Abri on the shoulder and pointed back towards the choir stalls. He mouthed ‘Go!’ Her face creased with uncertainty for a second, so he jabbed his finger back again. This time she listened, and began to back away in a low crouch.

  ‘Why are the diamonds so important to you, anyway?’ said Jake. ‘We know they’re not real.’

  He heard a gun click.

  ‘Oh, do we?’ said Jaap. ‘Even more reason to make sure you don’t leave this place alive.’

  Jake followed Abri, staying out of Jaap’s line of sight.

  The South African continued, ‘Seems that Mr Granble’s mines weren’t quite as perfect as he thought. Sure, we got a few promising rocks out, but it was much harder than anticipated.’

  ‘From what I heard,’ Jake said, ‘if Granble wants more workers, he gets them. There’s no shortage of kids.’

  ‘That’s not the problem,’ said Jaap. ‘He’s got the workers, he’s got the machinery, but the stones aren’t there – at least, not the flawless ones the world thinks he’s got.’

  Jake remembered Granble’s angry phone calls during the shoot, and suddenly got it. ‘Ah, so he needs the fakes to get the moneymen on board?’

  And by the time they find out the truth Granble’s pocketed their cash.

  He shuffled into the stalls beside Abri.

  ‘There’s no way out of here,’ said Jaap. From the sound of his voice and the tinkle of stones, Jake assumed he had reached the altar.

  Jake looked about. Granble’s chief goon was right. One way in, one way out. He had the remaining diamonds, and soon he and Abri would be dead.

  Jake spotted a torn prayer book on the ground. Not much use as a weapon, but maybe as a distraction. He closed his hand round it.

  ‘I’m bored,’ said Jaap. ‘If you come out now, I promise to make it quick.’

  Jake whispered to Abri, ‘Ready?’

  She nodded.

  He swung his arm, flinging the book in a high arc into the opposite stall. It landed with a thud. Jaap’s steps were quick as he darted between the stalls. Jake peeped over the edge of his and saw Jaap’s back to him as he scouted the source of the sound. Now or never.

  Jake climbed over the stall and threw himself on to Jaap’s back. The South African grunted and fell forwards against the railing of the stall, but managed to stay upright. A rat-a-tat of bullets sprayed aimlessly from the gun, churning splinters out of the wood. Jake yanked back, taking Jaap with him. They collapsed on the ground. Jake pushed the gun aside with his left hand, and gave Jaap a flurry of punches and elbows to the face, bloodying his fist.

  He thought he had him, but Jaap’s arm thrashed up and the gun hit the side of Jake’s face, sending him into a dizzy sprawl. Jaap was up on one knee, levelling the weapon. Suddenly Abri was there, and she delivered a brutal kick into the base of Jaap’s spine with the point of her foot. He screamed in agony and dropped forwards. Her second kick sent the gun spinning away.

  Jake struggled up and grabbed her arm.'Come on!’

  They ran the length of the nave back towards the side door, but Jake’s heart sank. It was locked again. Jake swung his foot at the door, but it did nothing except jar his knee. He took a few steps back and charged with his shoulder. It rattled in the frame, but didn’t break. Then he remembered the side door into the vestry. Perhaps it was still open now!

  He could hear Jaap groaning in the stalls.

  Abri followed as he led the way towards the vestry. As they neared the doorway, something exploded in Jake’s ears. A round of bullets scuffed up white dust from the stone walls two metres away. Jaap was up, and stumbling behind the altar.

  Jake yanked Abri into the vestry and went straight over to the small door. With his heart thudding, he gave it a kick. But the door didn’t budge. Someone must have boarded it up after the robbery.

  ‘Damn it!’ he hissed. He scanned the room quickly. The windows were barred. There was only one other door. In the corner, the one that must lead up into the steeple tower. It wasn’t a way out, but it was a place to hide. ‘Up there,’ he whispered.

  Jaap’s footsteps slapped on the stone outside the vestry as Jake and Abri ran up a spiral staircase, leaning against the wall for balance. It was only wide enough
to go single file, and the narrow stone treads were worn smooth. They passed the mezzanine floor and carried on. At least Jaap would have a hard job following them.

  Near the top, Abri slipped and he dragged her to her feet. They climbed the final few steps, and found themselves in a small square space with a wooden balustrade surrounding a huge, green-stained metal bell. There were slits in the thick stone walls, but they weren’t wide enough to climb through. Even if they could, the drop was fifteen metres. Jake kicked through the balustrade, and snapped off one of the spindle railings. Splinters showered below. Now he had some sort of weapon at least.

  He looked back down the steps, trying to control his panting. After half a minute, a shadow of a man with a gun appeared against the wall. Jake bristled. If they charged Jaap in the tiny stairwell, he wouldn’t be able to get many bullets off.

  Perhaps Abri can escape.

  He looked back at her. ‘I’m going to face up to him,’ he said, brandishing the piece of wood. ‘I’ll distract him, then you get past.’

  ‘Distract him?’ said Abri. ‘He’ll kill you!’

  ‘If we wait up here,’ said Jake, ‘we’re sitting ducks again.’

  The shadow disappeared from below. The stairwell was silent. They waited.

  Where’d he go? Jake wondered.

  ‘Listen,’ said Abri, ‘we need another plan. I’m not going to let you –’

  Jake put up his hand as a smell tickled his nostrils. Smoke. At first he wondered whether it was coming from outside. But then he saw the faint spiral of smoke coming up the steps. There was enough wood in the stairwell for it to catch quickly.

  He took a few steps down, and saw a flickering orange glow. The sound of crackling grew louder, and the smoke thicker. He pulled up his T-shirt over his mouth and coughed, and went down further. Suddenly a staccato burst of bullets ripped across the wall near his head, ricocheting up off the steps. Jake ducked back.

  ‘You’ve got two choices,’ shouted Jaap. ‘Come down here and face me, or stay up there and choke to death. Either way it’s time to say your prayers.’

  Jake ran back up the stairs in the dense smoke and found Abri pressed against the outer wall of the bell tower, trying to suck air through one of the gaps. She broke off spluttering.

  Jake pushed her down to the ground where the air was clearer, but he could hardly breathe. ‘He’s trying to smoke us out,’ he said.

  ‘Then we’re trapped,’ said Abri.

  Below, he could hear the fire raging in the church. Jake wiped the tears out of his burning eyes. He saw the bell. There’s another way.

  ‘Abri,’ Jake coughed. ‘Stay here, I’m going down.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Jake pointed to the bell mechanism, with the rope hanging off. ‘I’m going that way.’

  Abri’s face was smeared with dirt. ‘You’re crazy!’

  ‘Any better ideas? You have about five seconds to share them.’

  Abri’s body shook with a coughing fit. ‘Good luck, Jake.’

  He stood up and looked down the rope shaft. About a metre across, he guessed. It was too risky to use the rope itself – the bell would start clanging and let Jaap know he was coming. But he could climb down by lodging his feet and hands against the side. He’d done a bit of rock climbing in France; they called this ‘chimneying'. Jake sat on the edge, and supported himself with his hands as he reached across with his legs. The air was fairly clear in the tower. But it looked a long way down.

  Jake let his body weight tip over the edge, and made sure his grip was firm on either side. Then he started shifting downwards, a few centimetres at a time. Soon he had a rhythm going. His arms ached, but he’d covered seven metres without trouble. About ten more to go. He didn’t know what he’d find at the bottom, but hopefully Jaap would be looking the other way, guarding the base of the stairwell.

  Then the wall seemed to crumble and his foot shot away. For a split second, Jake was falling. He flapped with his arms and his fingers found the rope. His grip tightened and the strands burnt into his palms. He cried out in pain and found himself swinging back and forth, smashing into the sides of the tower.

  Sound boomed around him.

  The bell!

  He looked down. If Jaap had heard, he’d …

  The assassin stepped out below the bell tower, looking up. His eyes met Jake’s and he fumbled for his gun.

  20

  Jake let go of the rope and dropped like a stone. He slammed into Jaap feet first before he could get a shot off. They crumpled in a heap, and pain shot through Jake’s thigh.

  Jake rolled off, and tried to stand. His leg wouldn’t work. Jaap lay completely still on his front. Wood was stacked up at the bottom of the stairwell, with fragments of tapestries and drapes driving the flames. There was no way up or down using the stairs. All one side of the church was ablaze, with flames licking up the walls into the wooden rafters above. Thick clouds of black smoke poured across the floor and heat came over Jake in waves. He sucked in a hot breath and limped to the bottom of the rope.

  ‘Abri!’ he shouted. He waited. The smoke was so thick now, and filling the tower too. He couldn’t even see the bell above. ‘Climb down!’ he yelled. ‘It’s safe!’

  No sound. Jake felt desperation grip his insides. Had she already passed out from the smoke?

  The rope twitched and a pale leg appeared through the smoke. Jake’s heart leapt. Abri shimmied down speedily, hand over hand, like she’d done this a hundred times.

  She probably had.

  She dropped the last two metres, and Jake caught her. ‘You did it!’ he said.

  ‘You did it,’ she smiled, nodding to Jaap’s inert body. ‘Has he got the key?’

  Jake bent down painfully on one knee and rifled through Jaap’s pockets. He found the key. As he stood up, the whole building seemed to rumble as though shaken by an earthquake. Something cracked above, and Jake saw one of the roof beams shift. He dived into Abri, and pulled her away as a shower of smoking debris came down. Part of the roof had collapsed and Jake could see the dusk sky through the hole. But, worst of all, the only unlocked door was completely blocked off by tonnes of fallen masonry and glowing embers.

  The vestry door was boarded up, Jaap had locked the side gate again and the big front doors didn’t seem to have been opened in years. There might be a key somewhere, but he didn’t have time to look for it. There was no other way out. All the windows were barred.

  Except one. Jake saw the huge stained glass window at the far end of the church behind the choir stalls. Its base was a good two and a half metres off the ground, but if they pushed a chair up they’d be able to jump.

  He pulled Abri with him, sticking close to the walls in case any more of the roof collapsed. His leg complained with every step, and his throat felt like he’d swallowed hot coals. The smoke hung in clouds like thick drapes. He could barely see two metres ahead.

  Abri was gasping into her elbow, but Jake didn’t let go of her hand. Back through the choir stalls, they reached the end of the church. With Abri’s help, Jake pushed a pew underneath the window. He stepped back and picked up a chair, hoisting it over his head. With a cry from the bottom of his parched lungs he launched it at the decorative window.

  Glass exploded out, then fell away in glittering shards. There were a few jagged areas left. Jake ripped off his shirt, scattering buttons. He tore it into rough strips and handed two to Abri.

  ‘You go first!’ he said. ‘Wrap your hands.’

  She did as he said and climbed on to the pew. Jake got up beside her. He offered his hands to give her a foot-up on to the ledge, and she scrambled over. Jake lost his balance and fell back on to the floor. His eyes stung and he felt like he suddenly weighed a tonne. He told his legs to climb up again, and they did, but so slowly it was like wading through mud. He jumped up and felt for the ledge with his fingers, but he didn’t have the strength to pull himself up.

  The fire against his back was like the wors
t sunburn he could imagine, spreading over his skin. He felt his fingers slipping off the ledge, the tendons in his arms burning.

  I can’t make it, he thought. I’ve got nothing left.

  Then fingers gripped his wrists. Jake managed to look up. Abri’s lips were moving wildly. She was shouting.

  ‘Come on, Jake! Don’t give up.’

  He found a last reserve of strength, and pulled. He felt the ledge across his stomach, fresh air on his face. He toppled over the edge, and his feet swung over with him. The ground came up fast, and he fell happily on to it.

  He must have passed out for a couple of seconds, because he came to on his front, his mouth thick with the taste of burnt wood. Jake rolled over and saw that Abri was lying on her back. She wasn’t moving.

  ‘Abri!’ Jake said, crawling over.

  Relief flooded him as she moved her arm weakly. Spluttering coughs made her body spasm. Jake came to her side – his hands were bleeding where he’d climbed out of the window, and his eyes were burning. He put a hand on Abri’s shoulder and knee and rolled her into the recovery position.

  ‘You’ll breathe better like that,’ he said.

  Smoke poured out of the broken window; the fire raged with the sound of cracking twigs. Even out here, the heat prickled over Jake’s face. The church was like a furnace. Jake was sure of one thing: Jaap wouldn’t be coming out alive.

  It wouldn’t be long before the fire brigade were on the scene. Jake sucked in more clean air – he and Abri had to move, now.

  Suddenly there was a screech of brakes.

  Jake looked back and saw two black estates had pulled up. Three doors popped open and three guys in tracksuits jumped out. They didn’t look friendly. From the other car a man in a suit looked through an open window, while speaking on the phone. He nodded, then shouted to his henchmen. ‘Get the boy and girl.’

  It didn’t make sense. A Scottish accent?

  Jake tried to stand, but his legs wobbled beneath him. He fell back, weak and dizzy. One guy, muscles bulging through his shirt, went straight to Abri and heaved her up.

  ‘Get off her!’ shouted Jake, trying to swing his foot at the kidnapper’s legs.