She was soon beside him, following his line of vision. ‘I’ve got a torch in the car.’
‘You could drive the car down there with the headlights on.’
‘I’m not taking my car down there. If they’re there, I don’t want to cause them any panic and push them to kill Manuela. On foot is more subtle and less likely to alarm them.’
‘He might be dead already.’
Claire grew angry. ‘And they might not even be here.’ She paused, staring hard into his eyes. ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ She turned on her heels, not waiting for a response. ‘We go in quietly.’
Stefan watched her as she fetched the torch. She flicked the switch and shone the beam down the slope.
‘You going first?’ he said.
Claire shot him a sideways glance and then gazed back into the black mouth that threatened to swallow them whole.
She took a few steps ahead of him, and raised the torch. It barely penetrated five feet in front of her. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her breathing steady.
Her lips twitched. ‘You know what they say, Fletch?’ she said, handing him the torch. ‘Ladies first.’
***
Amelia stared down the barrel of Michael’s gun.
She was sitting on the floor and holding it up to her right eye, with little emotion in her face.
She pressed it against her cheek and circled it lightly across her face, closing her eyes and concentrating on the feel of the metal against her skin. She brought it up to her right temple and her eyes flicked open.
Michael was standing next to her, staring down at the gun.
She glanced across towards Manuela who was still tied to the table. He seemed to have given way to unconsciousness again.
She looked at Michael when he crouched beside her. She let his hands move the hand holding the gun until it was under her chin, pointing up towards her brain.
‘This way’s better,’ he said.
Her eyes brimmed with tears.
‘But not yet,’ he said, slowly easing the gun from her clenched fingers. He checked the safety was on before pushing it into the waistband of his trousers.
‘What are we going to do?’ Amelia said, sniffing back tears. ‘I didn’t want to rush this…his punishment.’
Michael looked at Manuela. The man was still. He got up and checked Manuela’s pulse.
He felt a faint beat under his fingertips.
He went back to the window and gingerly peered down onto the forecourt. ‘They’re heading towards the underground car park.’
‘They’ll see the van.’
Michael shook his head. ‘She won’t know if the van’s ours.’
‘She’s smart,’ Amelia spat as she got up from the floor. ‘What brought her here in the first place, huh?’
Michael avoided her eyes.
‘How did she know about this place?’ When he refused to answer, she shoved him hard. ‘You told her…you brought her here before, didn’t you?’
Michael dismissed her with a wave of his arm. ‘She knows we’ll be armed. She won’t risk coming in here without any backup and advice from a tactical advisor.’ He gripped her forcefully by the shoulders. ‘This is our siege, Amelia. It can work to our advantage.’
She looked at him hard in the eyes and her voice was deadly serious. ‘Or you could just kill her.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What?’
‘You could just go down there and kill them both before they can call anyone.’ She watched his face carefully. ‘Or can’t you do it?’
His eyes snapped back to hers. ‘I can do anything… I’ve proven that.’
‘I don’t think you can put a bullet in her head.’ When he didn’t respond, she edged closer to him. ‘She means too much to you, doesn’t she?’
‘No.’
‘Everything you promised me wouldn’t happen when you were with her is happening now. You care about her.’
‘I care about justice.’
Amelia pulled the gun from his waistband and shoved it against his chest. ‘Then prove it.’
CHAPTER 87
The beam of light illuminated two bright eyes.
Something was startled and scurried away, disappearing behind one of the concrete columns with a shriek that startled Claire.
She reached out in the dark and grabbed Stefan’s arm.
‘It was just a rat,’ he said, swinging the torch around, illuminating the gap between them. ‘You OK?’
She didn’t answer.
Stefan shone the torch ahead of him.
What little daylight there was coming from the ramp they’d descended into the car park seemed even further away than he’d first thought. They’d walked as silently as they could, heading further into the cavernous space than either felt comfortable with.
‘This torch is shit,’ Stefan said, swinging it along the floor in a wide arc.
A concrete pillar came into view, peeling old white paint. They walked a little further and broken glass fragments made a popping sound under their feet with each step.
‘And it reeks of piss down here.’
‘Shut up. Give it to me,’ Claire said, snatching the torch from him and illuminating the ground in front of them. The faded lines from a parking bay and a crushed takeaway box came into view. ‘We shouldn’t stray too far from the entrance.’
Stefan sighed. ‘I’m already uncomfortable with this.’
‘We need to find Manuela.’
‘Without our eyes, going in blind? We don’t know how many square feet we’ve got left to search for a vehicle that might not be here.’
The beam of light stopped.
Claire had stopped moving.
‘You see that?’ she said.
She felt Stefan come close beside her. He saw the dark spots of blood reflect back at him under the light.
‘It’s fresh.’
Claire slowly raised the torch and the back of a dark-blue van came into view, like it’d been creeping up on them in the darkness. She instinctively took a step back. ‘The blood came from there,’ she whispered.
‘Where’s it lead to?’
Claire shone the torch around slowly, her heart in her mouth, wary of what she might find. The blood led away from the van, and left an arc of droplets away from where they stood.
‘Somebody’s been dragged along here.’
They took a few steps forward, and the light soon reflected back at them off the steel doors of a lift.
Claire shone the torch off to the left, then the right, and saw a door leading to a stairwell to take them back to the surface.
‘We need to check the van. Maybe Manuela—’
CRACK.
The sound cut Stefan off and seemed to engulf the space around them like a bomb had gone off, blasting in their ears.
The column next to Stefan was hit by something hard and he felt a fine mist of concrete against his face.
There was just enough time for Stefan to push Claire to the ground as another shot rang out and ricocheted off the lift doors.
Hitting the ground hard, Claire instinctively switched off the torch.
They can fucking see us!
‘Smart move, guys.’
Claire froze at those words spoken in the dark.
Michael…
***
The torch light had been like a homing beacon for Michael when he’d crept through the door from the second stairwell on the other side of the car park.
They’d no idea he was there and he’d allowed himself a short while to gather his thoughts in the dark until they discovered the van.
He could think straight when Amelia wasn’t there to feed the dark within him, to stoke the fire of revenge in his soul.
The first shot was only meant to be a warning shot. If it’d hit Stefan…too bad.
The second shot was aiming for Claire.
And who said I couldn’t put a bullet in her?
***
There was an eerie silence. Clair
e tried to control her breathing, paranoid that each breath would allow Michael to home in on her and take her down.
She pressed her cheek firmly to the ground, feeling the rough surface scratch her skin. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her face. She listened hard but heard no footsteps.
Where’s Stefan?
She didn’t think he’d been hit but fear gripped her when she heard no signs of life from him. She stretched out her hand, clawing at the ground expecting to touch him, lying close to her.
He wasn’t there.
Her eyes swivelled to one side. She saw the faint rectangle of light that managed to penetrate down the entrance ramp. It was about forty-five feet away.
Something suddenly gripped her arm.
She felt a hand clamp down on her mouth before she could make a sound.
‘It’s Stefan…’
He felt a shudder of relief run through her body. His mouth was close to her ear, his voice just above a whisper. ‘He’s waiting for us to move… You still got your phone?’
‘There’s no signal down here and he’ll see the light if I unlock the screen. I’m not giving that bastard a target.’
‘We’ve got to get to an exit.’
‘We don’t know what’s waiting for us up the stairwell and we’ve got no weapons. We have to leave the way we came in,’ she said in his ear. ‘He can’t shoot what he can’t see.’
‘He’ll hear us if we run.’
Claire gripped the torch in one hand and held her BlackBerry in the other. She had to think, and fast.
They heard footsteps, faint but slowly getting closer, heading in their direction.
‘I’m going to put the phone on the floor…take off your shoes, they make too much noise. Then get ready to move towards the entrance.’ She felt Stefan rise up into a squatting position and carefully remove his shoes. ‘Pray this works.’
She slipped off her own shoes, sucked in a deep breath and focused ahead.
Then she unlocked the screen.
CHAPTER 88
The display glowed bright, like a star in the night sky, right before the sound of another gunshot echoed around them. The light disappeared in fragments of plastic as the phone was obliterated.
Michael had taken the bait but it’d bought them only a fraction of the time they needed.
They moved fast, their feet barely making a sound on the concrete. Claire’s hand was clasped in Stefan’s. They had to stick together. If one lost their way, there was no going back for the other, not without a firearms team.
Then they heard it.
Heavy footfalls, coming out of the darkness, heading in their direction.
More shots rang out at random, zipping past them wide but it was enough to make them break out into a sprint.
As they neared the ramp leading up to the daylight ahead, Michael could see their silhouettes.
Another shot was fired and Claire felt a dead weight drag her down.
Stefan was hit.
Looking down at him, she had split seconds to decide what to do. His hand was still wrapped around hers. His eyes were closed, but she saw the rise and fall of his chest.
Then she felt Michael’s body slam into hers.
Somehow she managed to stay on her feet and swung the torch around and made contact with the side of his head.
It didn’t slow his reactions.
He pushed the gun into the middle of her forehead.
‘Don’t move.’
Claire’s eyes shot to Stefan as he stirred on the floor, his eyes opening slowly.
Michael followed her gaze. ‘It’s not fatal, only a flesh wound,’ he said, pressing the gun harder into her head. ‘Feel like pleading for your life?’
CHAPTER 89
Amelia was untying Manuela from the table when she heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.
Picking up the claw hammer, she edged closer to the door. When she saw Claire appear in the doorway, hands raised above her head, she felt her stomach tighten.
Then Michael appeared behind her, gun pointed at the back of her head, with his other hand dragging Stefan beside him.
‘Get in there, against the far wall,’ he said, shoving Stefan to the floor. He forcefully pushed the gun into the back of Claire’s head. ‘You too.’
Amelia watched as Stefan shuffled past her, one hand holding his shoulder, blood leaking through his fingers. He was followed by Claire.
As they stood against the wall at the back of the room, Stefan stared at Manuela sprawled out on the table ahead.
‘What’re you doing?’ Amelia said. ‘Why aren’t they dead?’
Michael pushed past her and pulled Manuela to his feet, dragging him towards the door. ‘Right now, they’re worth more to us alive.’
Amelia shook her head. ‘We don’t need both of them.’ Exchanging glances with Claire, Amelia still found herself looking away first.
Claire felt a cold shiver run through her body and beads of sweat formed along her hairline. She felt Stefan move closer to her. She gazed down at his free hand.
She saw his mobile.
She understood immediately.
Keep him talking.
‘You need us, Michael.’
Both Michael and Amelia turned to face her.
‘We don’t need you,’ Amelia said, pointing her finger with force. Claire kept her eyes on Michael’s.
‘You need us both if you’re going to make it out of this whole thing alive, and you know it.’
His face looked pained as he let Manuela slump to the floor, turning to face her head on. ‘This is not what I wanted. I hoped you wouldn’t remember this place.’
Stefan’s face was neutral as his free hand worked the buttons of his mobile, hand turned, obscured behind the top of his thigh.
He closed his eyes, memorising the position of each button.
Claire shook her head. ‘This isn’t the way, Stephen…’
His lips hinted at a smile. ‘You finally figured it out. There was a point when I thought I’d have to send you another letter.’
‘Michael…you can’t—’
‘So it’s back to Michael now?’
‘What would you rather I call you?’ She saw Amelia visibly stiffen at her words.
There was a long pause.
Michael smiled. ‘I guess you can call me Stephen. Finally, the real me. Not what you expected when you first invited me into your bed.’
Stefan pressed a few more buttons and when he was ready to send, he opened his eyes.
Amelia was staring straight back at him. Her eyes shot down to his hand.
‘He’s got something,’ she said, grabbing his hand, twisting it and pulling the phone from his fingers.
Stefan smirked.
Panic growing in her belly, Amelia looked down at the screen.
Sending…
Her eyes shot back to his. The phone beeped.
Sent.
Letting out a cry of rage she struck him hard across the face. Stefan’s head swung to the side, flecks of blood spattering the wall from his split lip.
She read the sent message then grabbed the gun from Michael.
***
Matthews was standing in the gardens of the Manor when his phone beeped in his pocket.
He’d been waiting for a call from Claire about Hatton Court, the abandoned office complex, to see what the next plan of action was. ‘About time,’ he said, looking at the mobile screen.
1 New Msg – DI Fletcher.
It took Matthews less than a minute to realise what was happening after he’d read the text.
He dialled Hertfordshire Constabulary HQ and waited. When he was put through to the specialist firearms officer, he was blunt when he spoke.
‘We’re going to need some ARVs and a tactical advisor immediately.’
CHAPTER 90
Michael held up Stefan’s phone in front of his eyes, dropped it to the floor and stamped on it. ‘You’ll regret that,’ he hissed, his fa
ce close to Stefan’s.
Amelia pushed the gun against his forehead. ‘How much time do we have?’
Stefan grinned, revealing his blood-stained teeth. ‘Not long enough.’
Michael lowered Amelia’s hand. ‘Not yet.’ His eyes crossed to Claire. ‘We’ve got to move them higher up.’
***
Manuela’s blood was oozing from his wounds and he babbled aimlessly as Michael hauled him up to the fourth floor. Amelia followed behind Claire and Stefan, gun aimed at their backs.
Michael pushed Manuela into the corner of a small room, which had no furniture, save for another office desk and old power cables.
Manuela was slumped upright, one hand clasping at a gaping wound at his side. He was drifting in and out of consciousness with the pain and his blood pressure was starting to fall dangerously low.
When Claire and Stefan were sat on the other side of the room, Michael took hold of Amelia’s arm, pulling her to him.
‘We must make our stand here.’
She stared at him and nodded. He pulled her closer and kissed her hard on the lips before handing her the dagger that had been used to take Rebecca’s life. ‘When the time comes, make it count, no matter what comes into the building.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ll be outside on the landing. I need time to think.’
‘We can get away if we leave now. We have the van.’
‘We can’t move Manuela again. He’s lost too much blood. He’d be dead before we made it out of the city.’
CHAPTER 91
Michael sat on the top of the stairs, his head resting in his hands. A fierce headache was creeping across his forehead from his temple where Claire had struck him with the torch.
He tried to think straight.
He’d often thought long and hard about having to kill Claire if it came to it and many a time he’d feared he wouldn’t be able to. Any feelings he held for her amounted to nothing if it came down to the last resort.
The moment when he’d pushed the gun against her forehead and looked into her eyes, he’d seen her fear.
It had made him feel powerful.
He sat there, trying to immerse himself back into the moment and relive the feeling, and time slipped past in a blur.
For All Our Sins: A gripping thriller with a killer twist (DCI Claire Winters, Book 1) Page 35