It is time for the Ben Lewis Rh1 variation.
Nunc aut Nunquam.
You never know until you try.
‘Come on, let’s get him out the back and try and wake him. I want the pleasure of Lewis being able to see the bullets that eventually kill him. Before that, you and I need to give him a final reminder of good old-fashioned Russian hospitality, don’t you think?’ he hears Panich saying. Yes, but perhaps it may be time for some English hospitality first? ‘It seems only fitting, given all the trouble he’s been causing us,’ he hears Stefan say.
‘You, my friend, have no idea how much trouble is coming your way,’ Lewis says to himself as he hears the door being unlocked. Moments later and the handle is beginning to turn.
Nunc aut Nunquam.
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Holly left the car on a corner verge by the side of the main road, deciding to cover the remaining distance on foot. The narrow track that led to where the van was parked was exposed, initially with open fields on both sides. Although the region was best known for the quality of its champagne, this land had been farmed for produce other than grapes. That year’s crop had already been harvested, the surrounding soil ploughed back to a fine tilth. In the pale moonlight she noticed a clump of trees ahead of her, reasonably close to where the van was parked. She headed towards them as quickly yet as stealthily as she could.
Under the cover of the trees, she had a clear view across the fifty or so metres of open space to where the white Mercedes van was parked. It was now evident that this was an old airfield. The van was parked next to a disused hanger, what her mother would have called a Nissen hut. In the meagre light she could make out the taller of the two men leaning against the side of the van, looking at his phone. He appeared to be waiting for something. She could see the reflected glow from his phone’s screen even from this distance. There wasn’t any sign of the other man.
What should she do next? It seemed, on balance, to be wiser to stay where she was for the moment, to watch and wait. She was well hidden behind one of the larger trees at the edge of the thicket and still had the element of surprise on her side.
She just hoped and prayed that Ben was all right.
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Holly watched in amazement as the rear door of the van burst open and Lewis leapt from the back like an angry caged tiger released from captivity. The explosive power felled the tall Russian instantly. Lewis leapt over him and delivered two moves that happened so quickly, she didn’t understand what they were or how Lewis had managed to perform either. One landed a knockout kick to the face of the first Russian, but the other seemed only to bring the second Russian to the ground, and not before he had managed to fire off two shots in rapid succession either. The whip crack-like sound felt terrifyingly loud, the noise resonating for several seconds afterwards.
Lewis had then vanished into the night, one Russian down and out for the count but the other remaining at the scene: from this distance he appeared dazed, disoriented but otherwise unhurt. A battle had been won, but not yet the war.
Holly had felt elated, the knot in her stomach momentarily relaxing. For one brief moment she had dropped her guard, clapped her hands together, literally jumping up and down with excitement.
She felt the cold metal on her skin at the back of her neck before she heard anything. The sensation was so startling and abrupt that it sent tremors down her spine.
“So Holly Williams, did you really think that no one would find you.”
The icy knot in her stomach had returned with full, gut-wrenching, force.
“Don’t turn around. Move your legs apart and lean against the tree with your hands.” The woman’s voice sounded Asian, most probably Chinese. “Move your legs back further,” she commanded and then proceeded to frisk her roughly.
“Okay, you can turn around, slowly.”
Holly turned to see a middle-aged Chinese woman with short curly hair. She looked different from the person that Ben had described to her earlier, a slightly manic, almost possessed, look about her. The nurse in Holly had wondered whether she was on drugs.
“So, you thought would come and save your boyfriend from those Russians did you? How sweet. You forgot about me though, didn’t you, darling? Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Holly did as she was told and Sui-Lee removed a pair of plastic handcuffs from her rucksack and put them around Holly’s wrists, pulling the cable ties tight so that they cut into the flesh of her wrists.
“So then, Miss Holly. You and I are going for a little walk. Quite out of character, us Chinese are about to give our Russian friends a helping hand. You, my dear, are the little gift from the gods that is about to make everything become suddenly possible.”
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Lewis is in the shadows by the side of the Nissen hut. On reflection, he had made one mistake. In slowing his forward movement in order to execute a powerful roundhouse kick directly into Stefan’s lower nose cartilage, driving the man’s nasal bone directly up into his brain and killing him instantly, he had been less well-positioned to take out Panich. As expected, Panich had been standing behind Stefan. He had been on his left hand side as well. However he had been further back than Lewis had anticipated. It caused his Empi uchi elbow strike towards Panich’s gun hand to be mistimed, hitting him only a glancing blow. His forward momentum had succeeded in knocking them both to the floor, however, but this had been only a small consolation. Lewis had rolled away and out of sight as Panich had let loose two random shots from his GSh-18 gun. Thankfully the bullets had missed their intended target.
His head is pounding, the forward roll off the concrete deck and into the dark night beyond having taken its toll. He is grateful for a few moments to regroup, fighting back nausea with difficulty. At least it was now one-on one, albeit that Panich was still armed. In any event, Lewis is feeling up for a fight.
Until, that is, he hears something that makes his blood turn to ice.
Clouds have been gathering in the night sky. What little light there had been from the tiny crescent moon is now markedly reduced. Inky darkness is spreading everywhere. For a while Lewis cannot see a great deal, his eyes still growing accustomed to the dark. The area of biggest light contrast is the concrete hard standing. Its apparent brightness combined with the reflective white surface of the Mercedes van creates a ghostly stage. The absurd theatre of the night is about to give its first and final performance.
“Oleg Panich.” It’s a woman’s voice, one that he recognises immediately. A Chinese woman. Someone whom Zeltinger was supposed to have arrested and kept detained at Heathrow earlier that very day. “Don’t shoot, I am on your side. My name is Tan Sui-Lee from the People’s Republic of China.”
Her voice booms out from the darkness. Lewis is unable to work out where exactly she is speaking from. “I have brought a special gift, one that our mutual friend Ben Lewis will be anxious to see.” Lewis feels an ice-cold tension in his stomach. He has a ghastly premonition about what is about to happen.
“Watch closely, Ben Lewis, wherever you are. I have a present for you.”
Lewis is mesmerized. At first he can’t see anything. Then, slowly he makes out two shadowy forms as they inch their way gingerly across towards the Mercedes van. It doesn’t take long for his doubts to vaporize, however. His worst nightmares are indeed becoming his reality. Without doubt the person with her left arm around another woman’s neck, her right hand holding a gun pointed at her hostage’s right temple, is Sui-Lee. The wig once more removed, her natural long black hair flows freely in the night air. Also without doubt, the person she is dragging at gunpoint, being paraded in front of Lewis in order to make him dance to her tune, is Holly.
How the fuck has Sui-Lee done it? How has she managed to get to France, kidnap
Holly, find out where Panich has taken Lewis and then bring her here? Lewis is completely at a loss to know the answer. It feels surreal. He wonders for a moment whether he is hallucinating even though he knows he is not.
This is, as the commentators would say, a game-changer. It is also now two against one. In a heartbeat, Lewis has completely lost the advantage.
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It is like watching another one of Sui-Lee’s bizarre fantasies, this time for a live private audience, by special invitation only. Holly has been made to sit down on the concrete deck, immediately in front of the Mercedes van, about two metres from its front bonnet. Sui-Lee is standing behind her, her gun pointing directly at Holly’s neck. She has removed Holly’s handcuffs, for reasons yet that Holly doesn’t fully understand,
“So, Ben Lewis, it’s time to trade. The deal is this. I want the phone. The proper one this time, not some fake like you gave me earlier. And I want you. You have sixty seconds to bring both to me, here, in front of the van, or else your special friend, Holly, is going to get hurt.”
“Don’t do it, Ben,” Holly screams out before Sui-Lee’s left hand roughly grabs a handful of her long curly hair, pulling her head back sharply with a jerk. “Another word out of you, bitch, and I swear I will use my gun, is that clear?”
The skin on Holly’s face is contorted, her hair straining at the roots. She nods, her eyes wide with terror.
It’s time for a rapid reassessment. The good news, if there is any good news, is that the light has become worse. It is increasingly difficult to see anything in the dark. Which also means that it is easier for Lewis to stay concealed. The other piece of relatively good news is that, at present, neither Panich nor Sui-Lee knows where Lewis is. The bad news is that there are very, very, few places for him to remain concealed. There is, of course, the Nissen hut, dark and unwelcoming, its interior unexplored but unlikely to be a good place to hide. Apart from that, there is nowhere. The surrounding terrain is completely flat and open, the area other than the concrete hard standing sown to grass. The nearest trees are several tens of metres distance away. Anything that moved was likely to be visible.
One other piece of intelligence is that Lewis can just make out Panich’s body crouching by the open driver’s side door of the van. The Russian’s elbows are bent and he is holding a gun, its barrel currently raised to the sky. Panich is poised to take rapid aim and fire the moment Lewis enters Sui-Lee’s makeshift stage.
Dream on Panich. Ben Lewis has a sudden bad case of stage fright.
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“Get undressed,” Sui-Lee whispers into Holly’s ear, the instruction causing a moment’s confusion. Holly is unsure precisely what exactly is being asked of her. Seconds later, Sui-Lee jabs the barrel of her gun harder into Holly’s neck and repeats her instruction. Her eyes wide with fear, Holly removes her knitted cardigan, unbuttons her T-shirt and slips this over her head.
“Everything,” Sui-Lee says, and watches Holly struggle to slip out of her jeans, now down to her socks and underwear. “The whole lot, Holly, let’s not be shy, this is going to be fun.” Holly turns for one moment to look up at Sui-Lee. By the wild look on her face, she is clearly enjoying herself at Holly’s expense.
“Thirty seconds left,” Sui-Lee calls out to her wider audience. “Have you seen what your girlfriend is doing, by the way, Ben? I think she’s getting ready for you,” Sui-Lee’s manic laughter sounding macabre in the still night air.
As his former colour sergeant would have said, when Lewis sees what Sui-Lee is forcing Holly to do, the red mist begins descending. An idea forms that feels a little crazy. However these are desperate times and Lewis can only guess what gross acts of indecency Sui-Lee may be about to perform on Holly. He needs to move from his current position, at the rear edge of the Nissen hut, across to where Stefan’s inert body is lying on the concrete floor to the rear of the van. To do that, he will be exposed for several seconds behind Panich’s rear flank. If Panich were to turn around or perhaps catch Lewis’s reflection in the driver’s door mirror, he would be a sitting target and shot dead instantly for his troubles.
Whether to run or crawl is the next decision? Crawling would make it more difficult for Panich to see Lewis, reducing the size of the possible target and increasing the uncertainty of the Russian getting a clear shot. However, crawling is slow and has the potential to be noisier. Lewis prefers the silent crouching run, a sort of halfway house. He needs to choose his moment, a time when he is certain that Panich will be otherwise distracted. The chances of that, with Holly completely naked only a few metres in front of the Russian, are actually quite high.
“Ben, this is your last warning,” Sui-Lee is shouting. “Your girl has such a nice body, such great breasts.” She is holding one in her left hand, toying with it roughly. Holly is kneeling on the tarmac, her legs shaking badly. “Oleg Panich, perhaps you’d like to come and demonstrate how Russian men like to pleasure their women? Ben, I hope you are you watching? You have ten seconds.
Lewis was not watching. Instead, in a crouching run he has made it to Stefan’s body, the open rear door of the Mercedes van providing sufficient cover from Panich’s line of sight. The perverted floorshow is proving more than enough distraction for the Russian in any event. Lewis is searching for Stefan’s gun, hoping to find it in the front waistband of the man’s trousers but it is not there. Heaving the dead weight onto its side, he searches again, relieved to find a GSh-18 pistol tucked into the small of the Russian’s back. He checks the safety and flicks it to the ‘off’ position.
At that moment, Holly begins to scream, her anguished yells pleading for Sui-Lee to leave her alone, to stop touching her. She is begging for Ben to come and save her, her sobs chilling. It touches Lewis to his core.
It is time.
He had been wrong earlier about there not being enough places to hide.
There is one place he had overlooked.
The Mercedes van itself. This, in fact, is a perfect hiding place. It provides direct line of sight vision via its open rear door, through the front windscreen, straight onto Sui-Lee’s perverted stage show out the front. An unobstructed view directly onto Sui-Lee herself, her molesting fingers poised to degrade Holly in front of her theoretical audience of two.
Lewis has seen enough. He stands up, raises the gun, takes aim, and fires.
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The odds have changed significantly: it’s back to one against one, both men armed. Lewis is feeling confident once more.
He rolls to the left side of the van, blocking out of his mind the whimpering sobs he can hear from Holly. Instead he concentrates on trying to avoid getting into Panich’s line of fire. Rather than creeping around the van in order to get to Panich, Lewis sinks to the hard deck. He takes aim at the Russian’s legs underneath the van itself. Panich, however, has already moved away. The light is poor, Lewis fires two shots that miss. Back on his feet, once more in a crouch, he is about to head to the rear of the van when he stops abruptly.
This time it is Panich that has grabbed hold of Holly. His gun is placed firmly against her head, her trembling naked body held tightly against his own.
“Come out and drop the gun, Lewis.”
Lewis considers his options and knows that he has few. Panich won’t hesitate to shoot Holly, of that he is in no doubt.
Another Ben Lewis variation is needed – and rapidly. This time, however, there aren’t many move options left.
When in a corner, Marine, come out fighting.
It was his colour sergeant, whispering wise words once more.
Attack is always more effective than defence.
Lewis raises himself to his feet, the gun in his right hand pointing directly and deliberately at Panich. He walks boldly and purposefully towards both the Russian and Holl
y, stopping when he is no more than three metres away. Sui-Lee’s dead body lies sprawled next to where Holly is standing. Despite the dim light, Lewis can see a large pool of blood on the concrete.
“Feels like a Mexican stand-off, Oleg,” Ben says.
“I think you are forgetting your girl friend,” Panich replies. Lewis sees that Holly’s trembling has got worse. There is a look of sheer panic and terror in her eyes.
“You’ve got the wrong girl,” Lewis goads him. “She’s just the in-law. Shoot her if you must. You’ll be dead the same second.”
“Stop playing games, Lewis. Give me the phone.”
“I asked you this morning, I’m asking you again. Why?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“Let the girl go first.”
“I’m not fucking stup . . . ,” his sentence not even complete before the bullet hits him directly in his right elbow.
They had rehearsed the theory in the final days of preparation for the commando course at Lymington. It was high stakes poker, the sergeant in charge of their classroom training had told them. Never play unless you’re desperate. You had to be confident in your shooting abilities. When you fired, you needed to disable your opponent’s gun hand without them being able to kill the hostage first. The sergeant had drummed three things into them: if they were to stand any chance of success, they had to surprise the opponent; aim for his elbow; and follow through rapidly.
Lewis’s follow-through is textbook, leaping across and grabbing Panich’s right wrist, the gun hand. He twists the forearm in a vicious vertical arc through ninety degrees. The severe trauma in Panich’s elbow creates excruciating pain for the stunned Russian who drops the gun and sinks to his knees. Holly, by this stage, has been able to wriggle free. Lewis kicks Panich’s gun out of reach, away from his remaining good left hand. For good measure he hit him hard across the face with his own gun, a move that knocks the Russian out cold.
The Dossier (Ben Lewis Thriller Book 1) Page 25