by WOOD TOM
Gisele said, ‘I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what you should do.’
He frowned, confused and insulted and embarrassed in front of his friends. ‘Ah, fuck off,’ he said and shoved Gisele.
Victor was already moving but she snapped out her hand, grabbing the guy’s fist, her thumb across his knuckle line, twisting clockwise, rolling the fist and wrist and elbow until the arm was pointing up and locked and all the pressure was in his shoulder, trying to torque the joint past where the socket would let it go. Her free hand pushing down against the guy’s up-turned elbow increased the pressure and forced him down until he was on his knees, grunting and wailing.
The speed and violence of the move stunned his friends, but only for a second. One stepped forward. Then another. The others would soon follow.
Victor said to them, ‘Of all the times in your life that you need to make the right decision, this is the most important.’
One said, ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I’m giving you all the chance to go home tonight without a detour to the hospital. Take it.’
They hesitated. He stared each one in the eye, seeing each fighting the internal battle between courage and fear and showing them that in turn he fought none.
‘Let go of me,’ the young guy with the tattoos yelled at Gisele.
‘Once you’ve apologised to her.’
The woman in the green coat, wide-eyed, said, ‘That’s… that’s really not necessary.’
Gisele applied extra pressure to the lock and the young guy yelled, ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry.’
‘And you’ll get off at the next stop?’ Gisele asked.
‘Yes.’
Victor used a knuckle to ring the bell and the bus came to a stop a moment later. The doors hissed open and Gisele released the hold. The young guy with the no-longer perfect hair struggled to his feet with the help of his friends and they disembarked. Victor didn’t take his gaze from them until the doors had hissed closed again and they were throwing insults from the safety of the pavement outside.
‘Are you okay?’ Gisele asked the woman in the green coat.
She nodded with enthusiasm. ‘You totally kicked his ass. Thank you.’
Gisele smiled in response. ‘You’re welcome.’
Victor touched her on the shoulder. ‘We have to get off this bus.’
FORTY-FIVE
What a day. Andrei Linnekin sipped from a bottle of Peroni and took a bite from his takeaway burger. He sat behind his desk in the office above his club. He had not taken away the food, of course, but one of the idiots working for him had fetched it. The idiot was not only stupid but slow. The burger was barely lukewarm. Still, Linnekin was hungry and wolfed down the food. The man he’d sent was one of the ones busted over the head by the asshole in the suit. He looked ridiculous with bandages wrapped around his skull. Linnekin was making him, and the others, jump through hoops, keeping them on their toes with fear of what he might do in retribution for their failure. He didn’t let on that they would not be punished, that it was he who felt responsible for what had happened to them. He hoped that soon the matter would be satisfactorily resolved.
Moran had wisely fled the city, if the rumours were to be believed. Linnekin had all sorts of pain planned for him if he ever returned. True loyalty could not be bought. It had to be enforced.
There were practical considerations too. His men expected him to be strong. His enemies would only fear him if they believed him to be strong. His bosses would remove him if he was shown to be anything but strong.
He didn’t feel strong, but he kept that to himself. He finished the last of the burger – leaving the gherkin – and washed it down with the rest of the Peroni. A king’s banquet, he thought to himself.
Commotion from beyond his office door made him sit upright and reach for the sawn-off shotgun he kept behind his desk. He held it out of sight as a precaution. It would not do for his few remaining able men to see him with a gun in hand unless it was unavoidable. If they thought him scared, they would be scared in turn and he needed them fearless.
They had pistols in shoulder rigs or tucked in waistbands, plus shivs, knuckledusters and an assortment of other tools for killing and maiming. Linnekin didn’t pay too much attention. His only concern was that his men were better equipped than London’s police force. He couldn’t quite believe it when he had first arrived in the city and been informed of this. Don’t insult my intelligence he had said, thinking he was being played for a fool. Then, when he realised it was the truth: Are they trying to make it easy for us? Imbeciles. He’d subsequently learned about the armed response teams, but knowing that the regular cops carried nothing more fearsome than a club was a source of constant amusement.
The door opened. A figure stood in the doorway. A woman with blonde hair and green eyes. Her.
‘Hello, Andrei,’ Anderton said, pleasant and courteous.
He toyed with the beer bottle. ‘I find it funny how you English speakers use that word to greet one another in person when it was invented specifically for use with the telephone.’
‘How educational,’ she said, stepping into the room.
‘What do you want?’
‘I see I’ve interrupted your dinner.’
Linnekin brushed the greasy burger wrapping to one side. ‘I’m done. Why are you here? You told me that I’d never see you again.’
‘This is true. But circumstances have evolved since our last conversation.’
‘I haven’t got the girl, if that’s what you mean. I delegated it to a man named Blake Moran. I —’
She interrupted him. Linnekin hated such disrespect, but managed to maintain his composure.
‘I know. I’ve known the whole time. But I’m not here because of the girl. I’m here because I’d like to talk to you about the man who came to see you.’
Linnekin took his time before responding. She had interrupted him. Now she could wait.
‘You mean the man who cracked open the skulls of two of my men and threatened to kill me? The man who only did so because of the – how did you put it? – favour you asked of me.’
‘There was no favour. You were well paid for your services.’
‘We’ll have to disagree on that,’ Linnekin said. ‘I’m not in the kidnapping business, as I told you before. But you didn’t leave me any choice, did you? With all those thinly veiled threats.’
Anderton took a seat opposite him.
‘I don’t remember asking you to sit down.’
She smiled at him. ‘You must have forgotten your manners. Momentarily, of course. And, yes,’ she said, in answer to his earlier question. ‘That’s the man I mean. He’s caused me a lot of problems tonight.’
‘I’ll shed a tear for you later.’
She pursed her lips and nodded. Linnekin was glad of any offence he could cause. He both feared her and hated her and was determined not to let this woman think she had any control over him.
One of Linnekin’s doormen stumbled through the doorway behind her. His face was bloody.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Linnekin. They —’
He waved his hand. ‘Just get out.’
The doorman left.
‘Did you have to do that?’ Linnekin asked.
She smiled. ‘I assure you, I was most polite.’
‘Can we get to the point?’
‘Of course. May I have something to drink? I’m a little thirsty.’
Linnekin said, ‘Sure. My bladder’s full.’ He reached for his flies.
‘I’ll let that one go, but only because I know what you’re doing. You don’t like me. I understand. You’re not used to taking orders from anyone. Least of all a woman, yes? And especially not when that results in you being embarrassed in front of your men. But you need to understand who I am. You need to understand that you only exist in this city by grace of me and me alone. With one email I can have every one of your men arrested.’
He shrugged to hide his anger
and fear. ‘So, what? You have nothing on me. You’re a devil, but you’re a government succubus. You wouldn’t dare coming after me, head on.’
She considered for a moment. ‘Perhaps, but why should I when with one phone call I can have your poppy fields in northern Helmand burned to ashes.’
He stiffened at the threat.
She saw it, and smiled. ‘How will you explain that one to the bosses back home?’
Linnekin, teeth clenched, exhaled through his nose. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve told you: information about your visitor. Six-two, dark hair and eyes, suit. What is his name?’
‘He didn’t give one.’
‘What did he say to you?’
‘He was looking for the girl. He thought she’d been taken.’
She absorbed this. ‘What else?’
‘That was about it.’
‘I’m sure there was more to your discussion than that. He killed three of Moran’s men and disabled two of yours. That’s a lot of damage, just to ask one question.’
‘He didn’t say who he was and I wasn’t in a position to interrogate him, okay?’
‘Did you tell him about me?’
Ah, the point.
Linnekin said, ‘I don’t know anything about you, do I?’
‘That’s not answering my question.’
‘He had a gun to my head. I was at his mercy. What did you expect me to do?’
She nodded, false sympathy and faux understanding smeared across her perfectly made-up face.
‘Do you know why I hired you in the first place?’
Linnekin shrugged. ‘Because you’re lazy?’
‘Cute. I hired you because I didn’t want any blowback. I didn’t want to be connected. I wanted someone to kidnap the girl for me; someone who didn’t know why and didn’t know who she was.’
‘And your point is?’
‘Now you do. Now I’m connected because you’re connected. My point is that means we’re either enemies or friends.’
‘Which would you prefer?’
‘I think it’s more a case of which would you prefer, Andrei.’
‘What do you English say about with friends like these…?’
‘We also say the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’
‘What are you proposing?’
‘We work together to solve this problem. I believe this man is still in London with the girl. Your network has eyes and ears. Keep them open. That’s it.’
Linnekin considered. ‘And if we spot them?’
‘Inform me. My people will do the rest.’
‘Aside from his face, I know nothing about him.’
‘That’s no problem. He’s with the girl. Look for her and you’ll find them both.’
Linnekin nodded. ‘Okay. Deal. I know what he did to warrant my vengeance, but what is this girl to you?’
Anderton didn’t answer. She stood up and left. Linnekin watched her go, hoping the suited man would kill her to save him the bother. But he wanted the man for himself. He had given his word.
FORTY-SIX
It was still raining when they alighted a few stops later, leaving enough of a distance between them and the group of drunk guys to ensure they did not cross paths again, but not staying on the bus for any longer than they had to. He found another car to steal, this time a twenty-year-old Vauxhall estate.
‘That was a nice move back there,’ Victor said when they were both inside. ‘But you really shouldn’t have got involved.’
‘I’m not like you. I wasn’t going to let him hurt her.’
‘He didn’t hurt her.’
‘Not physically, at least not at that point. But no one deserves to be intimidated like that.’
Victor said, ‘But when you intervened you couldn’t have known what the end result would be. Had I had to become involved, things could have turned out very differently.’
‘Or maybe I knew that as soon as that greasy prick was challenged, he would back down. Maybe you need to start giving me a little more credit. I’ve been taking self-defence classes for months. I knew what I was doing. Plus, I carry a can of pepper spray, just in case.’
‘It could have escalated into something very bad for both of us.’
‘But it didn’t, did it?’
‘No,’ he admitted.
‘And it didn’t put us at any additional risk, did it?’
He hesitated, then had no choice but to agree. ‘It did not.’
She stopped and looked at him. ‘So what exactly is your problem?’
He considered her and if not for the danger they were in might have smiled. ‘You’ll make a good lawyer some day, Gisele. Of that, I have no doubt.’
‘I’ll take that as you conceding the argument.’
He didn’t answer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the beginnings of a smile, but it disappeared within a heartbeat and she said:
‘Maybe you need to start trusting me.’
He nodded to placate her. He didn’t trust her – not when their lives were in danger. But he was impressed with her resolve. She was calmer than any civilian should be in such a situation. For now, at least, he did not have to be concerned with Gisele’s actions or inactions further complicating his job.
Except, this was no job. It was a favour on behalf of a dead woman. He focused on the road ahead to prevent the memories surfacing. This wasn’t the moment to let himself be distracted. Both for his sake and the sake of the young woman sitting next to him.
She didn’t ask where they were going, but he guessed that was because the enormity of what had happened was hitting home. He expected her to cry, but she didn’t. His eyes flicked between the mirrors as he drove, watching out for pursuers, but after ten minutes he was sure there were none. After another ten he allowed himself to think about what to do next. The immediate danger may have passed but a whole new level of threat had materialised. Whoever these guys were, they were not Russians and they were not gangsters. They were mercenaries. Good ones.
Eventually Gisele said, ‘We can’t wait any longer. We need to find out if Dmitri and the others made it. Back at the warehouse, I mean. We shouldn’t have left them. We need to contact Alex or Yigor.’
‘No,’ Victor said.
‘Don’t be a bastard. They were trying to protect me just as much as you were. Maybe more so. I need to know they’re okay. I’m worried about them.’
‘They’re all dead, so stop worrying.’
‘I can’t believe you just said that. You can’t be sure they’re dead.’
Victor said nothing to that. Apart from Yigor, the Russians were all dead. He stayed quiet because Gisele wasn’t ready to accept it.
‘As you killed my phone, let me borrow yours for a minute so I can call Alex.’
‘I don’t have a phone.’
Her eyes widened with disbelief. ‘What? Then you’re the only person who doesn’t.’
‘I came to the same conclusion myself.’
‘This is ridiculous.’ The annoyance turned to despair. ‘I need to know if they’re all right. I need to know…’ She exhaled sharply. ‘You don’t give a shit about them, do you?’
He saw the hostility in her eyes. He was used to such looks but it was essential to keep her on side. He couldn’t protect her if she saw him as an enemy. ‘Okay, I’ll call your stepfather.’
A few minutes later he stopped the car next to a payphone and left the engine running and the driver’s door open while he went inside to call Norimov.
As soon as the line connected, Victor said, ‘She’s okay.’
Norimov breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘Put her on the phone.’
Victor looked at her sitting in the passenger seat, rubbing her shoulder, staring expectantly at him, waiting to hear about Dmitri and the others. He shook his head and he watched as she put her face in her hands.
‘Not now,’ Victor said. ‘What do you know?’
‘Only what Yigor told me. He called not long before you did.�
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‘Which is?’ Victor asked.
‘That when he tried returning to the warehouse it was swarming with cops.’
He thought about this for a moment, then summarised the attack and subsequent escape, finishing with ‘Dmitri and the others are dead.’
‘That hurts me. My poor boys. They were good men.’
‘No one who works for you is a good man.’
‘They died for me – for Gisele. Whatever wrongs they did before then is irrelevant. When Gisele is safe I will grieve for them. They deserve that of me, at least.’
‘Gisele is far from safe. The assaulters were mercenaries – pros – with suppressed MP5s, body armour and flashbangs. I’ve killed two of them, maybe three, but there are as many more still alive. What aren’t you telling me, Alex?’
‘I… I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘A rival organisation is not going to hire a team of professional mercenaries just to kidnap your daughter. That seems a little excessive, don’t you think?’
‘I agree. They must have known I sent men to London to protect her.’
Victor didn’t respond. ‘If there’s something you’re keeping from me then you should know I’m going to find out what it is, and you’d better pray that I don’t learn that you’ve put Gisele or myself in danger as a result.’
‘Vasily, I’ll swear on my life, if that’s what it takes. I’ve told you everything.’
‘It is your life you’re swearing on.’
A pause, then, ‘In time you’ll see I’m telling the truth. Until then, I implore you to get Gisele out of the country. Bring her to me, to St Petersburg, where I can protect her.’
‘Negative. You can’t protect her from these people. Four of your men just died to prove that fact. Until I know more, we’re not moving.’
‘But —’
‘The decision is not yours to make. Your safe house was blown. If your enemies knew about that, they know everything. Gisele stays with me until I’ve figured out exactly what is going on.’