by Tom Benson
For the first time since being shot, tears rolled down Ian’s cheeks for reasons which had nothing to do with his physical condition. They had Eva. Would she be able to hold out? It would have caused consternation if these people were aware of Ian’s mindset. He was beyond rescue but wanted to avoid giving information. If only Eva and he could die well; even here.
The sound of an unearthly scream carried from the bowels of the ruin.
“What the fuck is he doing to her?” McGinley said. “Tug, go and tell the stupid shit I want the bitch alive for as long as possible. There are more of these bastards, and I want names.”
Tug nodded to one of the men who’d dragged Freddie’s dead body into the room. “Come with me, Rab.” They headed downstairs to the converted dungeons.
.
Western Infirmary
Glasgow
“What have you heard from Mike?” Rachel said after sipping her coffee.
“When he called me, he had already picked up Sinbad, and they were near the Clyde estuary. He said not to worry about the time it will take to get to the location.”
“It’ll take him two bloody days, Amy. They’ll have to sail around the Mull of Kintyre, and he’s told us how rough it can be in a small cruiser like his.”
“Mike knows a shortcut. He said they’ll leave the Clyde, sail around the Isle of Bute and go north to Lochgilphead.”
“Hold on ... maybe he’s using the bloody Crinan Canal.”
“Do you know the area?”
“I remember Mike told us about the canal. He says it slows you down, but it cuts out hours of travel at sea.”
“Well, he knows a little of what has happened, and he’ll be calling you when he reaches Loch Etive.”
“I can’t leave Jake.”
“Rachel, there’s nothing you can do for Jake right now. He’s in the best hands, and they’ve said we have to give it time. He’s stable at the moment.”
“How am I supposed to concentrate knowing he’s lying there, wired up to all those machines?”
“You have to ask yourself, what Jake would want you to do,” Amy said. “If it was you lying in there, would Jake sit by your bed, or would he go out there and get those bastards?”
.
BTL Enterprises
Glasgow
When Rachel flicked the light switch and looked around the conference room, it looked different. A sense of dread hit the operative as her gaze took in the empty chairs. She had checked in on Jake before leaving the hospital, but there was no change.
It was 21:56. Rachel switched on the TV and fixed a coffee. When she slumped into a chair and spun around she expected international news to take precedence, but not on this night.
“Good evening. This is Paul Abbott for Scotland Digest. At this time the Dumbartonshire and Strathclyde Police forces are liaising to establish the sequence of events. Neither force is ruling out gang-warfare. A spokesman for the Strathclyde Chief Constable has said there appears to be a vendetta against the members of the Mental Riders Motor Cycle Club. It is believed there was an attempt to kill a group of bikers in a drive-by shooting.
No motive is known, but the club has had two of their members murdered in recent weeks. Gang-related violence has not been ruled out, although no other band has claimed responsibility. Today, three bikers were injured, and an unnamed member of the public sustained several gunshot wounds. The man is believed to be in his thirties, and is now in the Western Infirmary on life support.”
The reporter stood back to give his cameraman the scope to pan around the urban coffee shop and the dual carriageway. The reporter continued.
“Unconfirmed reports suggest somebody fired at this rest area from a moving car. At least one person returned fire at the car, and two motorbike riders went in pursuit. About three miles from here, one of the riders received gunshot wounds to both legs, and his associate was wounded in the shoulder.”
The cameraman made a pointless gesture by panning the lens up and down the dual-carriageway. As viewers were treated to seeing drivers going about their business, the reporter continued.
“Five miles away a known car thief was found dead at the roadside—”
Rachel muted the sound on the TV and hit the speed dial on her mobile. She adjusted the volume of the loudspeaker.
“Hey, Rachel,” the gravelly voice came over the speaker. “How is Jake doing, and where are you?”
“Jake is on life support and in a critical condition. I was with him until a short while ago. I’m now at our headquarters in the city.” She lifted her coffee with both hands and sipped as she waited for an update.
Max said, “Thanks for dropping by to check on Numbers, he called me earlier and told me to let you know, he really appreciated the visit.” Max gave a brief chuckle. “I told him to get out of there quick—we need every pair of hands.”
“How is Pedro, I didn’t see him at the hospital?”
“He’s here in the club with me now. As soon as he was patched up, he was out of there.”
“Have you guys picked up any more intel?” Rachel said.
“Well, as you might already know, the driver of the vehicle out at Milton has disappeared. Apart from that, there is a big gangland meeting taking place in the next couple of days—I’ve got twelve guys ready to go now, and I’ve got calls going out for more.”
“How are you fixed for equipment if you make an assault?”
“Don’t you worry my friend.” Max lapsed into his rarely heard reassuring tone. “We’ve got the men, weapons, ammo, radios, and a few rations. The bikes are fuelled, and I’m giving a briefing in a couple of hours. We’ll totally understand if you don’t take part.”
“Please don’t go in hot-headed and cause a massacre on both sides,” Rachel said. “We’ve both got losses to consider.”
“You get some sleep girl. I’ve been in touch with Mike and Sinbad, and I said I’d contact them before anything kicks off up there. We’ll try to take some of the bastards alive.” He paused. “Let’s make a deal. If I don’t see you at our clubhouse by five o’clock tomorrow morning, we go without you.”
“Okay,” Rachel said. “It’s a deal. Promise me you and the boys will be careful.”
“Are you kidding me? You get some rest and go and check on Jake.”
“Bye, Max.”
“G’night Rachel.”
Rachel switched off the TV and went through to the bunks in the admin section. She was exhausted, and her eyes were burning with the effort to stay open. Rachel set her phone alarm for two hours and lay down.
19. Girl Power
.
Friday 22nd October
Fort Etive
Chloroform had been used to subdue Eva in the car park. She’d acquitted herself well, having taken out three members of the kidnap team and injuring three others. A bullet in her leg weakened her enough for three men to drag her to the van.
Eva woke up naked on a bed with her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. The bullet wound in her leg paled when the intense pain elsewhere registered. She’d been raped while unconscious. Instinctively she tugged at her bindings which were old, thick rope.
“Hello, darlin’, my name’s Bull.” An ugly brute of a man walked across the small stone-walled room. “It’s my turn next, but I wanted you awake. Brian and the two younger guys were a bit eager. I’m gonna take my time.”
Eva’s eyes widened as the man unsheathed a knife and approached the bed. She struggled against the ropes, but this guy wanted to talk. It provided an opportunity.
“What happened to the guy who was with me?” Eva said.
“He bled to death before they could get much out of him.” After a pause, gazing at the ceiling, he said, “Jake was his name—according to Freddie. Which means you must be Rachel.”
Eva closed her eyes briefly and nodded. “Is Freddie still alive?”
“Now there was one hard little bastard, but no, he’s dead as well.”
Bull laughed when he
stepped forward and held the broad blade against the bindings on Eva’s left ankle. “If you promise not to be a stupid bitch, I’ll untie your hands, but for now, I want your legs free, so you can wrap them around me.” He grinned and with a single swipe sliced through the rope. The blade was incredibly sharp. Bull gazed along Eva’s ripe young body as he stepped forward and sliced through the other ankle binding.
“I’ll be—good,” Eva whispered in a soft voice; her words sincere as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“We’ll leave your wrists until I’m ready.” The brute stabbed the knife hard into a wooden cabinet beside the bed. He stepped back and began to undress.
Eva continued to wriggle against her bindings, squeezing her nimble fingers close together until her hands were as narrow as her wrists.
The man called Bull continued chatting. “I’m not like the others. I’m not gonna just drop my trousers around my ankles. I’ll get undressed properly.” He had removed shoes, and most of his clothing, but stumbled around, gripping a chair for support, and chuckling when trying to pull off a sock. He reached down to pull off the other sock.
“You want to be really fucked, Bull,” Eva whispered.
“Yeah, darlin’—keep going with that dirty talk.” The big man turned to face the bed.
The prisoner wasn’t there.
An arm with rope burns on the wrist appeared in Bull’s peripheral vision. The toned limb came down in a swift motion from the left, and before the big man could register what was happening, he witnessed half of his previously pulsating manhood land on the floor amidst a gush of bright red blood. In the ensuing seconds while his jaw dropped and eyes widened in disbelief the blade struck again.
A swipe slit the left side of the man’s neck before Eva opened his stomach with a swift, deep stroke.
Bull tried to scream but gargled as he moved his hands from one wound to another in extreme pain, confusion and trauma. He dropped to his knees, shaking his head, grimacing against the pain.
“I’ve kept my side of the deal,” Eva said. “Now you’re really fucked.” She winced as the bullet wound in her leg burned, and the injuries from her rape were crippling her. It took four limping strides to reach the gangster’s jacket which was hanging over the back of the hard-backed chair. Unlike the dying man, Eva kept a constant watch on her victim while she was occupied in preparations to go.
On the same chair as the jacket, a shoulder holster hung, complete with a Colt automatic. Attached to the main strap of the holster were a spare magazine and a suppressor. Eva took the entire shoulder holster and crossed back to the bed.
As she dressed in her torn blouse and skirt, Eva decided not to waste time looking for her shoes. They were probably in the car park where she’d been shot and eventually overhauled by the gang. Eva watched, emotionless as the man on the floor gasped for air and bled profusely. His final minutes on the planet would be in excruciating pain. Eva fitted the holster across her slim shoulders and adjusted the securing strap. She pulled on her damaged jacket.
The young woman listened at the door. No sound nearby. She unclipped the magazine from the weapon to check for fill and reloaded the magazine before cocking. The handgun’s action was quiet and smooth; it was well-maintained. As an afterthought, Eva lifted the knife, and placed it in the leather scabbard which she jammed into the back of her skirt waistband.
The blank stare and the massive pool of blood on the stone floor were confirmation her next would-be rapist was dead. She crossed to the thug’s jacket and searched the pockets.
Although the man’s phone wasn’t the most modern and had no signal, it had power. Eva stood behind the door and rapidly adjusted the settings of the phone to prevent any noise. She eased the door open and limped out of the dungeon to explore.
McGinley stood in the conference room with six of her men. “We’ve got the bodies of two of those vigilantes lying in the interrogation room, but you soft bastards can’t find a fucking woman.” She glared at the hard men standing around like naughty schoolboys.
“Boss,” one man said. “We know she’s injured, and this place isn’t that big—we’ll find her.”
“I know you’ll find her Dinger, but I’m a bit peeved. She’s been running around free for over an hour. I’ve lost three good men to the bitch, so I want her alive if possible. I want to kill her myself.”
Terry said, “There are loads of dark corners and narrow chimney-like places—”
“Are you afraid of the fucking dark, Terry?”
“No, Boss.”
“This place is a ruin. It only has four floors and a tunnel. Before you send your men out to secure the woods, I want you to find the bitch.” She looked at the faces. “After we’ve sorted her, we check every man knows where his defensive position is to be. I don’t think there are any more than one or two of these interfering bastards still to come.”
“What about the biker gang?” Terry asked.
“They’re a fucking biker gang. We won’t see them, because they won’t give a shit about the vigilante team.”
The men nodded and filed out of the conference room.
.
BTL Enterprises
Glasgow
Rachel opened her eyes, and it took several seconds before she registered where she was. Apart from her leather jacket lying loosely over her, she was dressed ready to ride. She glanced at her watch; 05:14.
“Shit.” She sat up. Her mouth and throat were dry, and her head ached. Five minutes later, she’d been in the small washroom and splashed her face with cold water. A call to the hospital lasted two minutes and left Rachel deflated.
“You have to pull through Jake.” Rachel went into the conference room. She looked around the large square, organised area—the masses of information at her fingertips. The team was losing this fight, and she had to regroup and get her act together.
By 05:45 the operative had showered, changed into a fresh T-shirt, shorts and training shoes. Not for the first time she was grateful for having a personal locker with spare clothes for these rare occasions. Rachel finished two mugs of strong black coffee.
She studied the map before she lifted her phone and dialled.
“Hi, Rachel.” Mike Longhurst’s voice boomed from the central speaker on the large table. “How is Jake doing?”
“I’m at our HQ. I called the hospital a few minutes ago, and they said Jake deteriorated during the night, but he’s stable again. I’m worried about him Mike.”
“Be strong, Rachel. You know it’s what your man would want.”
“I know, and everybody is reminding me. I’ve got you on speaker so if you give me your present coordinates I can fix your location.”
Mike reeled off a ten-figure grid reference and asked Rachel to read back for confirmation.
She clarified with a description. “I’ve got you in Loch Etive, about a mile west of the fort ruin—surely not?”
“Yes, I’ve got Sinbad with me, and we worked shifts through the night. At the moment, Sinbad is monitoring the coast further along near the ruin. We thought we saw people walking around the outside, but we have to get closer to confirm.”
“Okay—by now, Max and the Mental Riders will be on the way. I’ll keep you in the loop if I get anything else. Be careful, Mike.”
“You too. Are you coming out to join us?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve got a lot to get my head around right now.”
“Okay, bye for now.”
Rachel stared at the map and marvelled at the progress Mike and Sinbad had made. Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the caller and hit the button.
“Hi, Amy.”
“Hi, Rachel. Did you get some rest?”
“It forced itself on me, but I’m as refreshed as I can be. I’ll eat shortly and have more coffee. I have to be able to think clearly.”
“Right, I said I’d give you an update on the crew who fired on you guys yesterday—we’ve made some progress.”
“Go ahead.” Rachel tur
ned up the volume of the speaker. She grabbed a marker and moved to the notice board.
“We can confirm the vehicle had two people because we’ve traced it on roadside CCTV. The car was driven through roadworks which had two sets of cameras. The driver was a dark-haired man in his thirties, and the passenger in the back was a woman with long dark hair.”
“How were you able to confirm the driver’s age?”
“I don’t know how much TV news you’ve seen, but a few miles away the driver was found dead at the roadside. He had gunshot wounds in his left arm and shoulder. However, what killed him was the single gunshot wound to the head, which was a different calibre weapon.”
“What about the woman and the vehicle?”
“The suspect vehicle had been stolen earlier in the day. It was found, torched, and a car taken near the location of the wreckage. The woman obviously needed a fresh set of wheels to get clear of the area, and she’s on the run, but injured.”
“What makes you think she’s injured if she got away?”
“There were traces of blood on the dead driver’s body which were different to the driver’s. We had no need to wait for a DNA test because a simple check confirmed it was a different blood group. We’re now awaiting confirmation it was Henderson.”
“Pedro will be pleased he didn’t miss.”
“I’m pleased he didn’t miss.” The detective paused. “Have you decided if you’re going to take part in the mission?”
“I don’t know yet, Amy. The bikers are on their way, and Mike is in position. I have to find out more about Jake’s condition before I can think straight.”
“Okay. Keep in touch, and whatever you decide—take bloody care.”
“Bye, Amy.” Rachel hit the button.
Ten minutes after the calls, Rachel fixed herself a hot breakfast and more coffee. She tried desperately to get her head into operational mode, but it was hard. As she ate, she found her personal responsibilities and team duty blending together. As she sat alone forcing herself to eat, she thought of the new house that she and her man had bought.