Sun of the Sleepless

by Patrick Horne

  Dale lurched forward and made to grab her, latching on and writhing with her as she twisted about until he found himself holding her tightly from behind, one arm coiled about her waist and the other locked about her upper chest.

  In an instant, his supposed captive grabbed the arm wrapped about her waist and pulled it in even tighter, then, she simply relaxed her legs to place her whole weight in the support of Dale's trapped grip.

  The effect was immediate; he felt himself pulled forward and down and suddenly became aware of an intensely painful sensation erupting from his forearm. It took him a moment to realise that the woman had managed to bend her head down and was now clamping her teeth into a fold of skin that had gathered has she had viciously bitten into his wrist.

  Dale tried to pull his arm away but the self induced tearing motion had made the pain even worse, the slicing incisors cutting down into his flesh without remorse. Without warning, an explosive flash of pain burst from his temple as Akosua released her grip on his arm around her waist and rammed her elbow back at his head.

  The connection with his skull had produced a perfectly blinding collision and as Akosua released Dale's wrist from the grip of her jaws, he stumbled back, his head screaming for momentary relief from the pains now shooting down the side of his face and across his forehead.

  The cumulative effect of Dale's previous strangulation and his current futile exertions, the eye watering jab to his nose and the mind numbing elbow slam into his temple, all of this created a fug of incoherency that caused him to involuntarily bend over to catch his breath, his arms supporting his upper torso against his thighs, his mind devoid of any awareness of immediate danger, preoccupied with the dizzying pain in his head and the burning sensation throbbing in his wrist and up his forearm.

  He did not notice the outer edge of a carefully aimed and tensed foot about to smash into the back of one of his knees and upon impact he simply dropped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, somehow managing to collapse down on all fours rather than sprawling flat onto the road although he was still gasping for breath and desperate to stay in control of his own body.

  Dale inhaled two laboured breaths before he noticed that his opponent had walked around him and was standing before him, just off to one side. He watched in dazed awe as the woman shifted her weight to one slightly bent leg, curved her hips up to one side and cocked her free leg out sideways. The fast-twitch contraction in the woman's thigh muscles snapped out her shin with the speed of a striking praying mantis, the whiplash of the arcing foot delivering a knock-out blow to his jaw. Dale fell, completely unconscious.

  Jolene had arrived at the Gevonden & Geleverd antiquarian bookshop with Stanley and Oliver but had not managed to get an answer from within the store, she had been banging on the front door for a good five minutes, peering inside with her nose pressed to the glass and her hands cupped around her eyes to allow her to see into the dark interior. It was still relatively early and the opening hours indicated that the door was only ten minutes overdue in being unlocked, although she had managed to get further information from her CIA field support team which had indicated that the owner, Johann Janssens, actually lived above his business premises.

  Jolene turned to Oliver.

  'Stay here and watch the front.'

  Turning to Stanley she jerked her head to indicate that they should move off, 'Come with me, let's have a look at the rear entrance.'

  After ducking through an electronic parking gate that controlled access to a large rear courtyard area in the centre of the block of shops and apartments, Jolene and Stanley quickly identified and approached the back of the bookshop. Jolene nodded to the door.

  'Open it'.

  The door was relatively sturdy and it took two thundering kicks from Stanley aimed just below the lock to burst the entrance open, the door bouncing off the wall of the corridor that it led to as it swung violently on its hinges and finally reverberated to a standstill.

  Stanley reached inside his suit jacket, withdrawing a Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol from a discreet shoulder holster, flicking off the safety catch and cocking the hammer in one fluid motion. He glanced to Jolene and she nodded, indicating that he should enter first as she bobbed down to retrieve a small revolver from an ankle holster.

  Jolene fell in behind Stanley, the pair moving along the corridor in textbook fashion, covering each other as they crept along, pressing into the walls. They passed a number of doors and carefully opened each one, ensuring that the rooms beyond were unoccupied, gradually moving through the whole ground floor to the front of the building where Oliver was guarding the entrance from outside. As they passed a stairwell leading to the apartment above, they had to lurch over a scattered pile of books that had been carelessly discarded at the bottom step.

  They moved forward into the front shop area, the aromatic scent of tanned leather and musty paper growing stronger as they approached. Bursting in and securing the whole room in a well rehearsed entry move, all they could see was a large heavy wooden counter and walls that were literally covered with the spines of countless old books. After ensuring that the counter was not providing cover for a hidden protagonist, Stanley moved back into the corridor and took up a position at the bottom of the stairwell.

  Jolene had noticed a key sitting in the open but empty tray of the cash register and an educated guess as to its purpose allowed her to unlock the front door without requiring the application of Stanley's brute strength; she slid back the top and bottom bolts and quickly opened the door to the street.

  A signal from Jolene gave Oliver the go-ahead to enter swiftly and he immediately moved to backup Stanley, the pair ascending the narrow stairwell to the apartment above. Jolene closed and bolted the door, walking back into the corridor to the books littering the floor, squatting down to examine them more closely.

  She looked up and saw another couple of books on the steps above her, the cover boards splayed open and the pages creased and bent. It was probable that the pile had been dropped from the small landing where the stairs turned perpendicular to the wall, no doubt bouncing down from stair to stair to the floor below. This did not look good. She wondered whether anything else - or anybody - had tumbled down with them.

  Presently, she heard Oliver call down that it was all clear and replaced her weapon in her ankle holster before standing up and exhaling sharply. She climbed the stairs and fully expected to see the dead body of Johann Janssens somewhere upstairs.

  'All clear ma'am,' Stanley nodded as she arrived at the top of the stairs.

  'Did you find Janssens?'

  'There is no body here but there are signs of a struggle, in the living room. A small table has been overturned and a coffee cup is smashed on the floor along with a half-eaten sandwich. The coffee has soaked into the carpet and feels cold to the touch so it is difficult to tell when it actually happened, although it's clearly not in the last ten minutes. What do you want us to do?'

  Jolene frowned harshly and looked around.

  'The girl, we need to get back to the girl. If somebody has taken out Janssens then Verker might be next on their list. Let's get down to the car and get back to her apartment, I'll call Dale on the way and warn him.'

  She turned and hurriedly started down the stairs, calling back over her shoulder.

  'This isn't going to be a boondoggle gentlemen; this is getting real!'

  Stanley and Oliver caught each other's glance and nodded at the use of the Marine vernacular for a 'waste of time', tramping after Jolene and heading for the car.

  Oliver was depressing the accelerator harshly, pushing the big Audi through the Saturday morning traffic at a breakneck pace and ignoring a couple of stop lights that changed to red even though they were still three or four cars' length from the junctions. As they entered the road of Gertrude's apartment they could already see a white Politie car parked about halfway along it, the blue lights flashing and indicating that some sort of incident had recently occurred there.
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  Oliver sped up to it, braking hard as they drew level, Jolene and Stanley hardly waiting for the car to stop rolling before bursting out. The first thing that Jolene saw was Dale, sitting on the kerb in spite of the freezing cold weather with a police officer standing next to him. Dale's face was bloodied and looking slightly the worse for wear.

  Jolene rushed up to him, the policeman turning to face her and about to object but then remaining silent as she quickly crouched down in front of Dale and started speaking.

  'What happened?'

  'They took the girl, just after you'd left -'

  Jolene looked up at Stanley and Oliver who had just joined them.

  'Who?'

  Dale shook his head.

  'White male, six feet tall, late thirties or early forties, heavily built, shaven headed,' he looked into Jolene's eyes with an abashed glance, 'and a black woman, mid to late twenties, bleached blonde shaven hair and blue eyes, probably contact lenses.'

  He pointed to his nose.

  'She's the one that did this - and this.'

  Dale limply lifted his arm, displaying a huge lump that had developed just above his wrist, the clear indentation of teeth scoring the bruised swelling.

  A cheerful voice spoke up from behind them.

  'Perfect! We can trace the dentistry with that!'

  Jolene spun around as she stood up, Dale's head sinking to his chest as he managed to grin to himself and exhale a guttural laugh of exasperation.

  'Inspector van Riel!'

  The Inspector smiled benignly.

  'Hallo again Mr. Mallory, I see that you have brought a friend along with you.'

  He looked at Jolene and his face creased pleasantly into a wide smile.

  She already knew the name from the reports that she had read during the night, before she had even met Dale and Jackson. She thrust out a hand in greeting.

  'Hi, Jacqueline Lillard, FBI, I understand that you've been helping us with our investigation into the theft of antiquities from our museums?'

  Pieter smiled and chuckled slightly as he took her offered hand and shook it firmly.

  'Of course, we always do our best to help our partners in law enforcement and we like to play our part in maintaining international relations.'

  Jolene smiled back and glanced down at Dale.

  'It seems that the gang responsible for the thefts has moved up to kidnapping.'

  Pieter looked up at the apartment and rasped in some air between his lips, shaking his head and assuming a dramatically dejected expression.

  'Yes, a terrible thing. I suppose that you do not have any leads on the gang?'

  'Nothing yet.'

  'No, I thought you might say that. Do you have a description of the kidnappers who took Miss Verker?'

  Jolene paused, making a guess that Dale had been somewhat obtuse when questioned by the police.

  'A vague description, Dale was knocked about a bit and he's still shaky at the moment, as I'm sure he told your officers.'

  Pieter pressed his lips together and nodded.

  'Yes, so I've been told. I understand that he was checking up on some basic details concerning the trade of your stolen book, as I had suggested to him only yesterday?'

  He shook his head again.

  'A terrible thing, but luckily for us we have a complete description of the two people responsible for this incident.'

  He beamed at Jolene and then turned, pointing up to a second floor window in the building behind them.

  'A lady in the apartment opposite saw it all happen, right here in the road. She had a very clear view of the kidnappers and has already provided an excellent description. We're already looking for them, including the car that they used.'

  Jolene's jaw tensed.

  'Excellent, well, I'm sure you understand that we just want to get back to the embassy right now, we have to file some reports and, of course, if we can organise further help for you from the FBI then we also need to organise that.'

  'Yes, I understand, I'm so glad that this has not become a diplomatic incident and we can work together.'

  Jolene's tight smile betrayed the seething reality of her assessment of the situation.

  'Alright, well, we'd better get going, I'm sure we will be in touch.'

  Pieter's expression became overly earnest.

  'Of course, and Mr. Mallory, please make sure to get those injuries checked out, you would not want any skull fractures to go unnoticed.'

  Dale slowly scrabbled to his feet, dusting himself down and slapping the seat of his trousers, feeling the damp that had seeped in from the frozen pavement.

  'Thanks, I'll be sure to do that!'

  Jolene caught Stanley's eye and jerked her head toward their car.

  'Thank-you Inspector!'

  She nodded pleasantly and started to walk away, Dale limping after her.

  'Oh, there is just one more thing!' Pieter called after them, clicking his fingers at an officer who had a camera slung about his neck and who immediately moved in and snapped a shot of Dale's bloated wrist.

  'That is perfect! I am sure we can find our kidnappers with an imprint of their teeth!'

  He grinned and raised a hand in farewell as Dale shook his head and turned to walk to the car.

  Chapter IX

  Watching the world go by -

  Rey dialled Frans' phone as Akosua drove the VW south, keeping to the coastal strip and staying off the main roads. Gertrude had slumped back into her seat, occasionally lolling against Rey who simply nudged her upright again with his shoulder, talking to her soothingly when she occasionally babbled incoherently.

  'How much did you give her?' he asked rhetorically as he listened to the ringing tone purring in his ear.

  'She'll be fine, it was the good stuff that we gave her, she won't remember a thing after she wakes up.'

  Rey was shaking his head dubiously as Frans suddenly picked up.

  'Uncle! We need your help immediately!'

  There was a slight pause.

  '- and hallo to you nephew, I thought you were supposed to be resting up, maybe a bit of shopping or some sight seeing? What's up?'

  Blinking slowly as he thought of the situation they were know faced with, Rey looked at Gertrude as she started to smile and even giggle in her drug induced dreams.

  'I took my sister to see the girl I was supposed to meet next week, just in case there was anything interesting happening. Early this morning some visitors arrived, it turns out that she was having a big party with lots of new friends, also some old friends that have a big house in town.'

  Rey let the information sink in.

  Frans' tone was calm.

  'I see, let me guess, you gate-crashed their party?'

  'You could say that, we managed to persuade my date to come away with us when some of the others went out for more beer, we managed to get her to sleep and now we're looking for somewhere to spend the day. Can you help us?'

  Frans was a professional and would deal with any situation appropriately, no matter how or why it had happened. It was clear that Rey and Akosua had abducted Gertrude Verker and that she was subdued if not completely unconscious, they needed a safe house and fast.

  'Where are you now?'

  'We're not far from my date's apartment.'

  'Alright, alright. Let me make some calls and I'll organise some friends to pick you up, take in some sea air while you wait, I will call you back in five minutes.'

  'Thanks uncle, appreciated!'

  As soon as the line went dead, Frans started dialling an operational support number to organise an extraction; this type of event was always a possibility no matter how simple a field operation was supposed to be and support teams were on call twenty-four hours a day and every day of the year, throughout the continent. In preparation for their short weekend in The Hague, Frans had specifically put a team on alert locally and was thankful that help was now very close at hand.

  Akosua had parked the VW near the beach in a car-park th
at was practically empty, the cold wind whipping off the North Sea in icy blasts and keeping most visitors well away. There were only two other cars nearby and they had drawn up within a few minutes of each other, both drivers releasing a dog from the rear of their cars and wandering off over the dunes for some canine exercise in the bracing fresh air.

  After Frans had called back to confirm their extraction and they had driven to their rendezvous point, they had waited for another half an hour before a yellow Renault van turned up and parked next to them, three men and a woman swiftly hopping out and approaching their car. Rey immediately recognised the short figure of Frans and looked into his beaming face as he walked to the driver's door and knocked on the glass. Akosua buzzed down the window and Frans poked his head through, looking around the interior and taking in the sight of Gertrude who was now snoring slightly, leaning against Rey's shoulder with a blanket thrown across her to keep her warm.

  'Did somebody order a take-away?' he chuckled.

  Rey looked over at the van and saw the livery of an entirely fictitious oriental company, but named so that it could conceivably be anything from a sushi-bar restaurant to a rug importer.

  The other team members bustled about their car, securely clipping valid but fake number plates to the front and rear and passing through an apparently real taxation disc to place in the front windscreen of the car, reflecting the newly assumed identity of the VW which had simply been lifted from an identical model that belonged to a completely unaware member of the public, as indeed the original vehicle identity had. As Rey replaced the disc in the screen holder, he heard the side door of the Renault sliding open.

  'Let's get the girl in the van; we can talk on the way,' Frans suggested.

  After a quick scout around to ensure that they were unobserved, Rey and Akosua bundled Gertrude into the cargo bay of the delivery van, manhandling her as she flopped about and groaned irritably in her sleep, using the blanket to wrap her tightly and keep her arms from spilling about.