Corruption!

by Elizabeth Ducie

  “Run,” shouted Charlie, pushing Francine towards the window as she turned to face the man who was standing on the threshold seemingly frozen by the scene in front of him. Suzanne just had time to see Charlie pick up a table lamp from beside the bed and swing it at the man’s head, before Francine reached the window, scrambled up on the chair and threw herself outwards. She stumbled, landed heavily against Suzanne, and the two women rolled off the veranda onto the dirt floor.

  Before she could move, two dark figures darted around the side of the cabin and ran towards them. They jumped over Suzanne, grabbed Francine by her arms and legs, then ran back the way they’d come.

  “Charlie,” screamed Suzanne. “Charlie, they’ve got Francine.” She jumped back up onto the veranda and thrust her head through the window. Her sister was sitting on the bed rubbing her elbow and staring belligerently at her assailant who was lying comatose on the floor.

  Then they heard an engine start.

  “I’ll meet you outside. Call Viktor,” yelled Charlie, heading for the door. Suzanne grabbed her phone and hit speed dial, praying there’d be a signal. But there was nothing. She raced around to the other side of the cabin just as Charlie fell through the front door. “No signal, we’ll have to go to him,” she panted. The lights of the gold Zil were rapidly disappearing in the distance.

  “Come on,” said Charlie, and set off at a run. Now Suzanne would see if her training had been effective or not.

  Spurred on by fear for their friend, Suzanne managed to keep pace with Charlie. As their own car came into view, they screamed and shouted, waving their arms in the air. Viktor saw them, switched on his headlights and pulled out onto the lane. Walter was sitting in the back with his arm around a quietly sobbing Lydia. Suzanne climbed in beside them, while Charlie hopped into the front.

  “Did you see them? Which way did they go?” panted Charlie. Suzanne wondered how she even had breath to speak at all.

  “Back on the road, towards Kursk,” said Walter

  “We have to follow that car. They’ve still got Francine.”

  Just as they were pulling away, Suzanne yelled, “Stop!” Charlie looked around in surprise. “Mercy,” said Suzanne. “Where’s Mercy?”

  “No idea,” said Charlie. “The last time I saw her was when she went scouting around the back of the cabin. She wasn’t inside, and I didn’t see her when I came out. She seems to have done another disappearing act.”

  “Quick, Viktor, drive to the cabin,” said Suzanne. “We must find her.”

  But the cabin was empty, and there was no sign of Mercy anywhere outside either.

  “We have to go!” said Charlie. “She’s a big girl; she can look after herself. We have to go after Francine.” Suzanne looked across at Walter who shrugged and then nodded his head.

  “I’m afraid I agree with Charlie,” he said.

  Charlie nodded to the driver.

  “Go, Viktor,” she said, “as quick as you can. We need to catch that car before it reaches the villa in Fatezh.”

  Chapter 54

  By now, the gold Zil had more than fifteen minutes’ head start and although Viktor had seen it turn right and continue in the direction of Kursk Oblast, Suzanne feared they’d lost it. But they had Anton’s Mercedes, which was top of the range, with a maximum speed of 200kph. Plus, in Viktor they had a driver who had been in the employ of the Dimitriov family since Anton was a boy. He’d already told them he thought of himself as one of the family. And from the grin Suzanne caught in the driver’s mirror at one point, he also fancied himself as a bit of a Sebastian Vettel, aiming for a third successive F1 championship.

  The car swung out of the woods and back onto the highway. For the first fifty heart-stopping kilometres, there was no sign of the other car and Suzanne wondered if they had turned off the main road. Then in the distance, she saw two pinpricks of red light. At first, they were so faint, just a flicker, and she thought she might have imagined it. But gradually they grew in size and became clear as the tail lights of a Zil. Stefano’s Zil. They were gaining on it.

  “Yessss,” hissed Charlie from the front seat, pumping her fist, “we’ve got them!” Viktor slowed to match the other car’s speed.

  “Why are we slowing down?” asked Suzanne. Viktor muttered something to Charlie but didn’t take his eyes off the road or the car in front.

  “We can’t do anything here, on the highway,” said Charlie. “It’s too public. And if anything goes wrong, they’ll get away again. Plus there’s a steep drop on either side of the road. He doesn’t want to risk us—or Francine—going over the side. There’s a more wooded part further up when we leave this main road. The drop becomes a gentle slope. Viktor thinks it’s better to wait until then. We can drive them off the road and hopefully make them stop safely.”

  For a further hundred kilometres, the two cars drove in tandem. Every so often, the gold Zil sped up, but the Mercedes easily kept pace with it.

  Finally, the empty horizon took on a deep shadow and the steep-sided motorway gave way, without any indication, to a more gentle landscape, with deeply wooded sides. The highway was finished.

  “Apparently the road is like this from here until it reaches the outskirts of Kursk and the turn-off for Fatezh,” said Charlie. “We’ll have more chance of catching them now.”

  They tore through the night after the other car. The trees blocked out what little moonlight there had been and all they could see was the two tail-lights from the car in front. And then the brake lights came on. For some reason the other car was slowing down. Viktor slowed accordingly. What’s going on? thought Suzanne. Her heart jumped in anticipation. Maybe they’re giving up? Then, suddenly, they were gone! The lights winked out. There was a squeal of rubber on tarmac as the other car sped up and, in a flash, it disappeared.

  The road had dipped suddenly at the same time as it bent to the right, and as the car in front went over the rise, the driver had killed the lights. As the Mercedes flew over the top of the hill and down the other side, their headlights showed a completely empty road.

  Viktor hit the brakes and they slewed to a stop at the bottom of the dip.

  “They’ve taken another road,” shouted Charlie. “We must have missed a turning.” But there was nothing obvious. Suzanne pushed open her door and jumped out as Charlie did the same. The air was redolent with the smell of pine forests and the wind was chill on her skin. Her hearing seemed heightened in the darkness where her sight was almost useless. But it was completely silent. The other car had just vanished. The others all climbed out of the Mercedes as well and everyone stood looking around, searching in the darkness for some hint of where the Zil had gone.

  “Maybe we should walk back to the top of the rise,” said Suzanne. “We must have missed a turning or something.” She and Charlie started walking back along the way they’d come. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Walter and Lydia were following them, although Viktor stayed with the car.

  Then as the sisters reached the bend in the road at the top of the rise, several things happened at once. Charlie called out, “there’s a cave in the hillside over there, I can just see the opening in the rock.” There was a blast of sound as a powerful engine started up and full-beam headlights hit them right in the face. The Zil had been hidden under the overhanging rock. Now, the driver put the car into gear and charged at them, full speed. Suzanne and Charlie threw themselves to the side of the road. There was a shout and a scream from behind them, a grinding scraping of metal, and then the engine noise faded as the other car tore off into the night.

  Suzanne jumped to her feet. Her knees were stinging, and her palms were grazed, but there was nothing more serious to worry about. Charlie bounded up beside her. She too appeared to be unhurt. They looked down the road.

  “Oh no,” groaned Suzanne. Lydia was sitting by the side of the road, screaming, and shaking the shoulder of Walter Mukooyo who was spread-eagled face down in the dirt. The Jones sisters ran down the road towards the couple as V
iktor left the car and hurried to join them.

  Charlie reached them first. She threw herself down on the ground next to Walter’s body. “Suzanne, can you look after Lydia?” she said. Suzanne nodded and putting her arm around the screaming woman, pulled her gently to her feet and guided her back towards the Mercedes. It was only when they reached the vehicle she realised what the grinding sound had been. There was a long dent all down the side of the Mercedes, where the other vehicle had collided with it on its way past and part of the bonnet was crumpled. The nearside doors wouldn’t open, so Suzanne took Lydia around to the other side and helped her into the back of the car. She patted her on the shoulder and told her she’d be back straight away. Then she hurried to where the rest of the little party was still huddled in the road. As she arrived, she was delighted to see Walter was now sitting up.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted. “The only thing that’s hurt is my pride. I pushed Lydia out of the way, stumbled over a boulder and winded myself when I fell on my face.” He hauled himself to his feet and took a few tentative steps. “Nothing seems to be damaged.” He glanced down the road. “Which is more than we can say for our car.”

  Viktor had returned to the Mercedes once he knew Walter wasn’t hurt. As he gazed at the damage to the body work, he looked like he was going to cry. But they all knew the real question was whether the engine was working or not. He climbed in and pressed the starter button. There was a heart-stopping moment when nothing happened, and then they all heard the familiar purr and gave a collective sigh of relief.

  “So, on the plus side,” said Suzanne, “we still have a vehicle although we don’t know how well it’s going to drive; we’re all in one piece; and we’ve rescued Lydia. But Francine’s still being held captive; we’ve lost Mercy; and we’ve got no chance of catching up with the Zil.”

  “And I’m not sure how much further we’re going to be able to go,” said Walter, pointing to the fuel gauge which was floating dangerously near to empty.

  Chapter 55

  Mercy had told them the villa was on the outskirts of Fatezh, a small town not far from the main city of Kursk. They decided to keep going in the same direction for the time being, hoping they would pick up some road signs at some point. But they were still another five hundred kilometres or so away.

  “Is there any phone signal yet?” asked Walter after they’d been driving for a while. “We really should let Anton know Lydia’s safe.”

  Suzanne pulled out her phone and checked. There were a couple of bars showing, and the battery was still fully charged. But as she was trying to make the call, her screen lit up. It was Anton, trying to reach her. She put him on speakerphone and turned the volume up as loud as it would go, so everyone could hear him above the noise of the engine.

  “Anton, hello. We’ve got Lydia back; she’s here—”

  “Hello, Anton—” called Lydia. But he cut across her words.

  “Suzanne, I know. I just had a call from Stefano Mladov himself. He knows what happened at the cabin.”

  “One of his goons must have rung him from the car,” muttered Charlie.

  “They did; so he knows they’ve still got Francine and he knows someone is coming after her. He thought it was me, although he did mention a couple of women as well.”

  “And did you tell him you weren’t with us?” asked Walter.

  “No, I told him nothing. The less information that man has, the better.”

  “Anton, I’m afraid we’ve lost the car,” said Suzanne. “We’re still heading towards Kursk, but once we get there, I’m not sure what we do next.”

  “Yes, I know that too. Mladov wants to set up a meeting. He thinks it’ll be me who’s coming to meet him, but never mind. It won’t hurt to wrong-foot him a little. Apparently, there’s some sort of celebration going on in Fatezh today and a lot of the streets will be closed. He suggests you park on the outskirts and then go up to his villa on foot. It’s a small town, so it’s only a kilometre or so altogether. But watch yourself. He may be getting on but he’s not going to be unprotected. And look out for traps.” There was a pause and then Anton continued. “I hate putting you guys in even more danger, but it’s the only way we’re going to be able to bring Francine home safely.” He gave them detailed instructions for where to find the villa. Then Suzanne took him off speaker and handed the phone to Lydia, so brother and sister could have a private word. Afterwards, Lydia told them her mother was still in hospital, but was comfortable. The medical staff had told Anton it would be some hours before any test results were ready, but they didn’t think she was in any real danger.

  They ran out of petrol two hours later. Suzanne and Viktor stayed in the car with Lydia, while Walter and Charlie went in search of help. And this time, luck seemed to be with them. They found an open petrol station just a couple of kilometres along the road. A jerry can of fuel was enough to get the car to the pumps, then, with a full tank, they continued on their way.

  By the time they arrived in Fatezh, it was late morning. They’d been driving all night. Viktor had finally agreed he needed a break around three in the morning. So Charlie had taken over the driving while he snoozed in the passenger seat. But when they reached the outskirts of the town, he took over once more.

  “It wouldn’t do to get pulled over by the police for driving without a licence,” said Charlie as the two changed places.

  Leaving the car at the edge of town, they walked into the centre, looking for lunch. The meeting with Stefano was set for early evening, so they still had some hours to kill.

  “Although I may just scoot up there on my own this afternoon,” said Charlie. “I can have a look around, get the lie of the land, as it were. You can never have too much information about a location, especially if you might want to make a quick getaway.”

  They booked a pair of adjoining rooms in a small hotel for Viktor and Lydia, the driver telling the fierce looking chatelaine that he and ‘his daughter’ had driven all night to visit a sick friend and needed somewhere to rest before continuing with their journey. To start with, it didn’t look like she believed them, but seeing Lydia falling asleep over her food was enough to convince her. Once the pair were settled, the Jones sisters and Walter headed out onto the street to look around.

  In the time they’d been eating, the quiet little town had become a veritable metropolis. The hotelier had told them there was to be a concert in the square that afternoon. The town’s small population would be swelled by large numbers of visitors from the city of Kursk, some thirty kilometres away.

  “I’m heading off to recce the villa,” said Charlie. “I’ll meet you back here around five. Okay?”

  As the crowds grew, everyone spilled into the road to promenade. Along the street, small stages housed traditional dancing, mini-dramas, and rock music. Balloon sellers jostled for space with buskers. A young violinist entranced them with Tchaikovsky and Borodin. As she switched to a well-loved folk tune, old men clapped in time to the beat and youngsters twirled around her. People dropped a few kopeks into her hat before moving on. Every few yards, there were marquees where hot, tired spectators could quench their thirst.

  Suzanne and Walter followed the flow of people into the main square which was lined with imposing, pre-Soviet buildings. Exquisite friezes, like stone lace, bridged the gap between nineteenth and twenty-first centuries. In the centre there was a gilt-encrusted fountain, more in keeping with the Summer Palace in Peterhof than a small town on the western edge of the country. At the other side they could see the main stage, filled with musical instruments and sound systems. By the look of the banks of speakers, this was going to be a very loud concert.

  Too late, Suzanne realised their route was taking them into what was effectively a dead end, as the other three roads into the square were equally blocked with people moving towards the stage. Oh, well, she thought, it’s not a huge place; we can’t get lost. And there’s plenty of time before we’re due to meet Charlie and head for the villa.
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  The crowd surged towards the small gap between the buildings and the fountain. Bodies were forced together, air sucked out. Suzanne was pulled along, as though caught in a river swollen by the rain. Images flashed by. An old man calling for his wife, struggling to keep his feet. Children looking for parents. Friends clinging together. A couple holding a pushchair at shoulder height, their baby screaming in panic.

  Suzanne was swept along by the momentum, pushed from behind by people who couldn’t see what was happening. In an instant, she was separated from Walter Mukooyo and totally alone. Strangers clutched at one another for support. There was no time for reticence or discretion. The air smelt of sweat, beer and unmistakable fear.

  She struggled to stay upright in the crush. The side of the road was lined with benches, presumably to aid spectators hoping to view the concert from the edge of the crowd. They looked reassuringly safe, like rocks rising out of the swell. They were already crowded with people, but Suzanne spied a small gap. As the flow took her closer, she flung out an arm and a woman hauled her onto the bench beside her.

  She had the stout build typical of a middle-aged Russian country woman. Shielded by her, Suzanne tried to catch her breath, but suddenly realised the impression of safety was an illusion. Above the crowd, she was still held in its grip. On the ground, it was easier to brace yourself if someone stumbled. Up here, with just a couple of inches of wood to balance on, if one went, they all went.

  Looking over her shoulder, she saw one of the roads out of the square, still full of people, but no longer dangerously packed. She twisted around, using shoulders and backs to steady herself. Stepping across other benches and forcing her way between the last few bodies, she reached relative tranquillity. The raging torrent became a stream. Groups of people parted to avoid her and flowed together when they’d passed.

  She leaned against the corner of one of the buildings, trying to regain her breath and wondering how on earth she was going to find Walter again in this huge mass of people. As the only black man in town, he would normally stand out, but the crowds were so thick, she could only see the people crushed around her. She just hoped the concert was over and people had started going home by the time Charlie was due to return. Otherwise there was a good chance they might miss each other in the crush.