by Harlem Dae
In the far corner, bent over a paper and with an empty glass that I suspected had once contained a bitty orange juice drink, was a man, who, like Kolya, still wore his outdoor coat. He had on thick glasses, and one hand hovered at his cheek as though he was covering his face purposely.
My heartbeat had already been too enthusiastic but now it romped up. Was it a sixth sense? Instinct? I didn’t know, but that man set every nerve in my body on high alert. It was something about him.
I wanted to run, just get up and race from the café. But I didn’t. I pulled in a deep breath and moved my attention from him to Kolya.
Perhaps I was being oversensitive, super suspicious and paranoid.
Kolya was staring over my shoulder, his eyes narrowed. A muscle flexed in his cheek.
I followed his line of sight.
Fuck. No paranoia, this was real.
Another man, wearing a black winter coat with the collar turned up, occupied a booth not far from us. He was studying the flimsy menu as though it were a document of great importance, even though an empty plate scattered with crumbs sat before him.
Act normal. Don’t let them know you’ve seen them.
I picked up my coffee cup, realised that my hand was shaking and put it down again. It clattered in the saucer, and the small spoon jerked to the table, spreading a thin brown streak on the polished surface.
Kolya frowned at me, his expression grim.
“They’re here,” I whispered.
He gave the barest hint of a nod.
“Fuck,” I said.
“It is okay, it is what we want.” Beneath the table he rested his hand on my knee. “Stay strong.”
I tried to find comfort in the small gesture but couldn’t. If these men were here, watching at me, were they also at Guilia’s school, looking at her?
“I will go to the counter,” Kolya said. “Get one more pastry, and while I am there I will let Ivor’s men know that we are systems go.”
“How will you do that?”
“I have a small radio.” He touched his collar.
“So just do it here.”
“No, I need to get my eyeballs around that corner, make sure there are only two in here. We need to know what we are dealing with.”
“I don’t like this.” A wave of nausea swept over me.
“I know you do not.” He leaned a little closer. “But this is how we will end it. This is how we will move forward, together.”
I swallowed, the lingering taste of coffee bitter on my tongue, the sincerity in his eyes adding to the acrid flavour. “Okay.”
“And try not to stare at them,” he said, placing his hand in his pocket and, I suspected, around his gun.
I nodded stiffly, and as he stood I gawped out of the window to avert my gaze from the two men whose mere presence filled me with fear.
Another man, same black jacket, hood up, dark inquisitive eyes, walked past the hotel. His shoulder passed close to the window.
I pressed my hand to my mouth, holding in a squeak of terror. We were surrounded. Like wasps, they’d swarmed, swooping down on us the moment we’d surfaced.
It was terrifying how quick and efficient they were, finding us in this small Alpine village and encircling us like this.
A pulsating sensation in my pocket caught my attention.
The phone. The one Sutton had given me.
I glanced at Kolya again. He had his back to me and appeared to be studying the glass cabinet stuffed full of cakes—some with enough calories to cause a coronary just by being near them.
Carefully, I retrieved the phone, keeping it beneath the table should Kolya turn around. After checking my two unwanted shadows, I studied the screen.
An image.
I juddered out a breath. It was Guilia, I knew it was. The shot had been taken through the wrought-iron school bars of the school we’d driven past. She wore a red coat, buttoned up to her chin, and a short black skirt teamed with thick tights and sturdy waterproof boots.
My heart seemed to inflate, the pressure pushing against my lungs. I’d created such a beautiful child. There wasn’t one thing about her that wasn’t perfect. Her blonde hair swung as she held her hands out to the sides, apparently twirling ballerina style, the way I used to. She was laughing, her mouth wide and her eyes closed, her cheeks glowing little balls of delicate skin.
Was she dizzy yet?
My mouth twitched, a smile forming. This was Sutton’s way of telling me he was there, watching over her. This was what she was doing right now, playing on her break.
How would I ever repay him? Quickly I replied.
Thank you.
Within a few seconds a message came through.
No thanks needed.
I glanced up. Kolya was in the same position I’d last seen him.
There are men here. The ones who want me and G.
He came back to me quickly.
Do as the Albino says. Stay with him.
A sense of longing went through me—longing for Sutton. But I knew he was right. I had to stay with Kolya. With Ivor’s men backing him up, Kolya had the most to offer me.
And when this is over…
I stared at Sutton’s next words. Over? What did he want to say?
Then you will come to me.
I sensed Kolya moving and quickly hid the phone again, deep in my jacket pocket, next to the gloves.
Sutton wanted me to go to him. When this was over. Of course he did. He’d said as much in the men’s room. It was what I wanted, too. I needed him in a way I’d never desired anyone before.
Was it because he’d teased and tormented me so with his prudish ways and sticking to the damn rules in St Lucia? Or the fact that he’d rejected me even when I’d stood naked and stinking of sex before him? It could even be a touch of Stockholm syndrome, since he’d all but taken me hostage. I didn’t know what it was. All I knew, in the very base of my soul, was that I had to do whatever it took to protect my child, and then, when she was safe, then I could figure out my feelings for the two complex men who were guarding us.
Kolya sat heavily in the seat next to me, his expression grim.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Fucking radio is not working,” he muttered, glancing about.
A woman was staring at him, no doubt fascinated by his white hair, eerily pale eyes, and ghostly skin, but her attention was the last thing we needed.
He stared her down then turned to me again. “We need to get up to the house. I can make contact there, organise back-up.”
“You mean they’re not here? Ivor’s men? I thought they were all around.” Panic fluttered through me.
“No, they are nearby, waiting for my signal. A fucking signal that I cannot get through to them.”
“So it’s just us, in here, with three, maybe more of these nasty bits of work after us.” I knotted my fingers together so hard my knuckles stretched and hurt.
“Three?” His frown deepened.
“I saw one walk past, outside. I should think he’s lurking about, waiting for us to step from the hotel.”
“We go now.” He stood abruptly and took hold of my upper arm. He yanked me standing and pulled to his side.
Out of the corner of my eye I was aware that we were being watched by several people—some of whose attention was inconsequential, some I’d rather avoid.
Kolya all but marched me from the hotel, and within seconds my hot breath was pluming in front of my face as we hit the cold outside air.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me close, and set a quick pace back towards the Range Rover.
I had to part walk, part jog to keep up with him, and clutched his jacket to maintain my balance on a patch of ice.
We weren’t far from the school now, and I had an urge to rush from Kolya’s grip and snatch up Guilia. Okay, I’d be accused of kidnap, but if it saved her life, surely that was reason enough.
And I am her mother.
Almost as if hearing my t
houghts, Kolya increased his hold on me.
The Range Rover beeped to life, and he bundled me in, slamming the door.
He shot around the front of the car, his hand sliding over the bonnet, his face sinister.
The phone in my pocket vibrated.
I couldn’t risk looking at it. Instead, I buckled up.
Kolya got in the car and revved the engine. He spun it around on the slim street, narrowly missing a parked van and a lamppost, then roared up the gears past the school.
“I think we’ve made rather a loud exit,” I said.
“What difference does it make? They know where you are and who you are with.”
“True.” I clutched the seat belt as he took a sharp bend at a hefty speed. “But if they follow…?”
“As soon as I have called for back-up, we will be in a better position.” He took a right up the small track that led to the glass-and-steel house. “It will only take them minutes to get to us and then being followed won’t be an issue; in fact, it will be to our advantage to have them all in one spot. They will be the sitting swans.”
“You mean ducks. Sitting ducks.”
“Whatever.”
The interior of the car went dark as Kolya navigated through the forest section of the lane. The branches of the fir trees hung low, weighted down with thick clumps of snow. Beneath the branches the sunlight barely hit the ground, making it a creepy, still and shadowed terrain. I wondered what lived in there. Foxes? Hares? Wolves?
Kolya stared into the rear-view mirror.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing, just checking we are not being followed.”
“And are we?”
“No.”
“And that surprises you?”
“A little.”
The car jolted over a pothole in the snow.
I reached for the dashboard to steady myself.
Finally, the house came into view, rising from the trees on the side of the steep slope. The dark windows reflected the white of the surroundings, and a huge chunk of snow had slid several feet down the roof, revealing slate-grey tiles.
“Open the garage,” he said, indicating the remote control that sat in the cup holder.
With fumbling fingers, I did as he’d asked.
The door slowly lifted as we raced towards it. Sanctuary was only seconds away.
When Kolya had reached the door and driven inside, I used the remote to shut it again.
He turned off the engine.
This time, instead of waiting for darkness to embrace us, Kolya leapt from the car. “Wait here.” He waggled his finger at me. “Do as I say.”
“Yes.” I nodded. I was happy for him to go and do his thing. The car felt safe.
He hesitated then pocketed the key of the Range Rover.
“What, you really think I’m going to drive off?” I held up my palms. “I might not always make the best decisions but I like to think I don’t make suicidal ones.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he slung the key on the driver’s seat, a distinctive keyring attached of some kind of symbol—a white circle with a bright red St Andrew’s cross in the middle—then slammed the door and made for the internal entrance to the house.
As soon as he was out of sight, I pulled the phone from my pocket.
I saw you leave. Where are you?
I tapped in my reply.
At the house in the woods. It’s just me and Kolya. Did you see anyone follow us?
No.
I puffed up my cheeks and blew out a sigh of relief. That was good news, it bought us some time.
I opened the car door and stepped onto the concrete garage floor. I’d go into the house, with Kolya. It would be better than sitting here on my own in the semi-darkness.
A piercing bang rang out, echoing around the walls.
A gunshot.
I froze.
Adrenaline pumped into my system as the sound blasted around my brain.
What the fucking hell?
I looked at the door to the house I’d been planning on going through. It didn’t seem like such a good idea now.
Another shot.
“Shit!” Instinctively, I ducked and wrapped my hands over my head. What the hell should I do? Who was firing? Was it Kolya, or was it the men from the cafe? Had Koyla been shot? Were they coming to shoot me or just kidnap me and hold me to ransom until my father paid up? Was the same thing happening at Guilia’s school—Dear God, no—and she was cowering just as I was?
The image of that in my head all but broke my heart.
Goddamn my father for this crap.
Footsteps.
A shout—in English.
I hopped back into the car, sitting on the key, having forgotten it was there. I tugged it out then jabbed it into the ignition, the symbol swinging in time with my rapid heartbeat. Grabbing the remote control for the garage door, I set it to open. I wasn’t hanging around like some bloody sitting duck or swan or whatever it was. It was time to get out of here.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The door seemed to take forever to rise, and with each slow inch, my heart rate sped even faster. With no idea how many men were out there, or in the house, I’d have to drive out pretty damn quickly or, quite frankly, lose my life if those gunshots were anything to go by. It was a risk I had to take. God only knew how many people were in the house—how many would come barging into the garage any second and shoot me.
That thought sobered me out of panic mode and into survival—I couldn’t die out here without making sure Guilia was safe first.
Or without seeing her one last time.
My goal of doing just that uppermost in my mind, I glanced in the rear-view mirror to get a bead on what, if anything, was happening behind me. I saw no one—but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, hanging around in the surrounding trees, waiting for me to do exactly what I was about to do. Was I playing straight into their hands? Probably. Should I stay inside the garage? Again, probably, but I knew myself. I’d got by on a wing and prayer before and would continue to do so.
For how long, though?
Fuck off.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for my exit. I was doing this for Guilia, the one thing a mother should do for her child—ensuring she was safe. Seeing with my own eyes that she was safe. What they did to me after that, I didn’t care.
Just let me see her before—
I reversed, a quick arcing skid that had me facing the way out in no time. I scanned the area and, still seeing no one, I shoved at the gear stick and plunged forwards. A man darted into my path from nowhere, a black blur of spy-like clothing. I shrieked, swerving to avoid him, but he dashed in my way again. I had no time to do anything but hit him. He smacked onto the bonnet with a sickening thud, arms hugging the damn thing as he tried to hold himself in place while I sped on. Bile flooded my mouth, and I fought the urge to vomit, not knowing whether to stop or keep going. He glanced up, staring at me through the windshield, his manic grin and bulging, crazy blue eyes giving me the answer I needed.
I sped up and weaved the vehicle from side to side. He held on, shaking his head as though I were a fool to think I’d ever get rid of him. Then his brow exploded, the windshield spattered with a mist of blood, and the delayed sound of a gunshot rang out. I screamed, desperate to maintain my course, and checked the rear-view. Koyla was running beside me, an assault rifle raised. The Range Rover jolted. I gave the road before me my attention to find the man had slid off the bonnet and that jolt had been—
Don’t think about it. Me or him, that was the only option.
Another man appeared to my right, dressed the same as the last. He ran towards the vehicle, rifle resting on his shoulder, his sights clearly on me.
“Come on, Kolya, do your job,” I shouted, glancing into the rear-view again.
Two short phut-phut-phuts of sound then Kolya went down in a split second.
No!
I stared at the man in front of me. H
e was down, too, an obscene slash of red desecrating the snow around him. They’d shot each other.
Could I leave Kolya out here, hurt, and with no help? Were other men around, waiting for their chance to kill me? I pulled to a heart-pumping stop then reversed, going over the first dead man again and cursing myself for it. I reached Kolya and came to a stop, engine idling. I peered down at him from the driver’s side window, my hot breaths misting the glass. He was on his back, motionless, finger on the trigger, the rifle resting on the snow as if it were useless. Him lying there like that gave the impression he was useless.
But he wasn’t, he’d been my friend, protector, and lover.
I cuffed away the condensation in time to see him wink.
He’s alive!
There was no blood that I could see. Did he have a protective vest on under that coat, too? Was that also why he’d been reluctant to take his coat off at the hotel?
He beckoned with the fingers of his free hand, imperceptibly, for me to get out of the vehicle. So he had a plan? He knew how many men were around? Or were they all dead now? If that were the case, he’d get up, wouldn’t he? Or had he been shot and the blood was beneath him? Was I better off doing as he’d said, allowing him to take me to see if Guilia was all right instead of me doing it by myself?
Thinking of Guilia had me shaking my head at him. I was going to see her no matter what, and messing around here, in danger, was a bloody stupid thing for me to be doing. I had to leave.
Kolya widened his eyes, as though pleading, knowing what I had in mind.
Fucking hell…
I pushed the door open a bit. “What?” I whispered harshly.
“Open the door wider,” he whispered back.
His penetrative gaze spoke volumes. It was so compelling that I couldn’t look away.
He clicked his tongue, as if pissed off that I hadn’t already obeyed his order. “Then get out of the car slowly. Make sure you hide behind the door—crouch. Do you understand?” That tongue click again. “Hurry!”
The realisation of what he was really saying slotted into place. Someone else was still out there—out there behind the shroud of trees; otherwise, why ask me to crouch behind the door? If anyone were in the house or behind it, they could pick me off in a heartbeat, so he must have killed everyone in there, right?