twenty-nine

The following afternoon Tommy-Lee woke to the sound of an engine being driven hard. He recognised the sound and rolled off his bed, checking his watch. Damn, they were early. What the hell had lit their fuses?

He stepped over to the slit window. Nothing to see yet but the noise was getting closer. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good news. He checked on James, who was moaning in his sleep, and shook him awake.

“You’d better get yourself ready, pal,” he said, handing him a bottle of water. “They’re coming back and it sounds like they mean business.”

“What makes you say that?” James lifted his head enough to swallow some water, before flopping back on the pillow with a sigh. “What time is it?”

“They’re driving like they’re being chased by the devil. And that means it’s time for you to get serious, if you know what’s good for you.”

James stared at him, eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot with lack of sleep. “Good for me … or good for you?” He tried a wry smile, but it didn’t come off, and only made him wince as his lips cracked. “You do realise, don’t you, that if these men are what I think they are, there’s no way they’ll let you go free when this is all over?”

Tommy-Lee shook his head. He could parlay his way out of most any kind of trouble, unlike this guy. “You’re wrong. I’ve been hired to do a job and that’s what I’m going to do. They trust me. Fact is, though, these three don’t know shit about what they’re doing, and they’re getting desperate. They’ve been playing with some drones out there and they’ve already smashed two that I know of, maybe more. Now they’ve got three, maybe four left and no more in the cookie jar. That means they’ll do anything—and I mean anything—to get what they want. Now, I won’t hide it from you, that might have got me a little worried, because I get the feeling these are three of the craziest motherfuckers I’ve ever met. And I’ve known more than a few. But I can handle myself in a corner. Thing is, can you?”

James was staring at him. “How do you know that—that they’ve lost the drones?” He struggled against the cuffs to sit up. “You’ve been out there, haven’t you? You watched them.”

“Doesn’t matter what I’ve done—I just think you should know what you’re up against. There’s Paul, the boss-man, and a hunk of no-brain muscle named Bill who doesn’t say much, and a skinny geek named Donny who looks like he just stepped out of high school. I reckon he’s the guy you’ve got to teach to fly those drones.”

“No.” James shook his head. “I won’t do it.”

Tommy-Lee reached under his pillow for the knife. It was time to scare some real sense into this fool. If James stuck to this line of thinking, it meant all bets were off; there wouldn’t be any fifteen thousand bucks and he knew that neither of them would get out of this place alive. But before he could do anything the van drew up outside in a rush and the doors were thrown open and slammed shut. No control this time, he noted, just a few terse words from Paul. The men made no move to come to the door of the room, however, instead moving away towards the hangar, their footsteps fading.

He jumped up and went to the window in time to catch a brief glimpse of Paul and Bill walking across the grass before they disappeared from sight. No sign of Donny, unless he was off to one side taking a piss.

He sat on the bed and waited, his head in a spin. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. Then he jumped up again and washed his face and took a leak. Anything was better than sitting there waiting for the hammer to fall.

The movement seemed to stir the air in the room, and the smell of their unwashed bodies and the near-full latrine bucket along with some rotting fruit in one of the boxes nearly made him throw up. He’d somehow managed to zone all that out for the past few days, as if it was all in his imagination; suddenly it had all become real again.

He threw down the filthy T-shirt he’d been using as a washrag and took a lap around the room; two paces one way, two the other. All the time he could feel James’s eye on him. He felt like a caged bull he’d seen at a rodeo down south one time, the animal locked in a pen too small for its hunched muscle and sinew, ready to break out in a burst of fury.

Then there was the rattle of the key in the lock and the door was thrown open.

It was Paul. He had one hell of a face on him and was carrying the semi-automatic Tommy-Lee had seen before. Only now it was out in the open. He didn’t look as if he’d had much sleep and was about ready to cap somebody out of sheer spite.

Tommy-Lee stood and waited. He didn’t know what had happened, but it wasn’t good, he could tell that much. And as he’d learned over a lifetime in some dangerous places, a man who takes to waving a gun around when he doesn’t have to is quite likely to use it on the first person he sees who gives him good cause.

“The situation has changed,” Paul announced, looking at James. “I don’t need you to teach anybody how to fly the drones.”

“So what are you going to do—shoot me?”

“No. I mean you’re going to fly them for me.”

“What?” James looked as if he didn’t care. “You’re crazy. Why should I help you?”

In response, Paul lifted the gun towards Tommy-Lee and pulled the trigger.

The shot was deafening in the confined space, and Tommy-Lee was spun round by the force of the bullet snatching at his ribs. It was like being hit with a baseball bat. He fell over onto the bed and screamed as a jolt of pain went through him, and he saw the wall behind him was now ghosted with a red mist, a hole drilled in the center.

“Jesus! What the hell was that for?” He clutched his side, then gagged as his hand brushed the open edges of the wound. His fingers came away sticky with his blood and he felt sick and nearly passed out.

“That’s because I can, Mr. Roddick,” Paul said calmly. “And to demonstrate what I will do if I have to. Frankly, I don’t care if you never leave this place alive. It’s all the same to me.” He turned to James. “But I think you’ve clearly underestimated what I will do, so take that demonstration as a reminder. Also”—he reached over and picked up the DVD player from the chair—“perhaps I need to remind you about a few things, just to focus your mind.” He turned on the player and dropped it on the bed.

“What have you done?” James cried, lunging against the cuffs, his eyes on the small screen. “If you’ve touched my family I’ll never do anything—”

“So far,” Paul interrupted him, “I haven’t done anything to them. But let me remind you of what we’re seeing here. The first footage is outside your home in London, where your charming wife, Elizabeth, is currently staying. Chelsea, I believe the district is called; very expensive, very … safe. But not for much longer. I have a man not a hundred yards from her front door right now. At a phone call from me, he will go in and kill her. But not before using her as he would any common whore.”

“Wait!” James choked on his anger and tried to sit up.

“Next,” Paul continued, as if he hadn’t noticed, “we come to the charming British public school where your son, Ben, is being educated. See the boys walking across the yard? They do that several times a day, going from their dorms to the classrooms and back, and to the dining room. I have two men nearby this time, both skilled at entering premises without alerting anybody. A call from me and they will enter the building and track down your son. There they will kill him in the most appropriate way they can think of. I’ve left that decision to them, but the most silent way will be, I believe, with a knife. Of course, if they should make a noise and be disturbed, then I cannot say who else will die. Probably quite a few of Ben’s friends.”

“You bastard!”

“And lastly, we come to the apartment where Miss Valerie DiPalma lives. A lovely young woman, I can see why you have become … attached to her. But also vulnerable if I make one phone call to the man currently outside the apartment block and awaiting my orders.” He paused while James looked on aghast as the picture of the apartment block entrance rolled by. “Unknown to Miss DiPalma, he has been following her whenever she leaves, and waiting nearby when she stays inside. He has also gained possession of a key to the rear door and emergency stairs. I have to admit that this man is perhaps the least attractive of those who will do what I tell them. He’s an animal and likes to inflict pain, especially on lovely young women. But he also likes to take pleasure in them first.

“Now, Mr. Chadwick”—Paul picked up the DVD player and threw it across the room, where it smashed against the wall—“what is your answer? I’ll give you ten minutes to think it over. After that, you and your family will cease to exist. Your choice.”

With that he stood up and walked out, locking the door behind him.