Kane opened his eyes when one of his team told him the plane was going to begin descending in ten minutes. He decided to venture out of his seat and go and freshen up in the bathroom. He splashed cold water onto his face reviving his dull sleepy senses. He wanted to be fully alert now. Rebecca’s life depended on it. He dabbed his face with a towel and eyed himself critically in the mirror.
Maybe I should have shaved. No. Remember, she liked the designer stubble look. Shit, she isn’t going to care. She won’t even remember me. And she’s been raped for fuck’s sake. The last thing she is going to do is find you attractive. Get a grip. You are here to protect her not get your love life back on track. That must come first or you are no good to her.
He ran his fingers through his short light brown hair that still sported light flecks of blonde from his youth. He tried to banish the rage in his heart every time he thought of Rebecca being raped and abused. But his mind was relentless in torturing him with a sordid assortment of terrifying images. In his fury he knocked the Molton Brown hand wash hard across the small room. It banged loudly against the door. He took a step back from the mirror and lowered his hand that had curled into a fist ready to belt it. He made himself take three deep breaths. If you let go now... she needs you, not your anger.
He stopped glaring at the mirror as though it was the full embodiment of all of his frustration and straightened his back. He pushed up his tie and made sure it was straight. Then he checked his cufflinks were in place. He looked down at the Rolex on his wrist. He loved it. It cost a fortune. He moved it around on his wrist studying it closely. It was a gift bestowed by one of his clients, a beautiful wealthy woman. She’d told him she was forever in his debt for the way he’d protected her two teenage children from a kidnap attempt. She’d made it clear that she meant there to be more than work between them. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been tempted. But here he was after nearly two years, hell bent on getting Rebecca back.
He wondered how he would feel when he saw her again. He didn’t have an answer. He just hoped she wasn’t broken. He couldn’t handle that. He would be in danger of falling apart for the first time in his life. He told his reflection, You won’t fall apart. You have never been a coward. You will simply fix her, put all of the broken pieces back together again.
He felt the plane begin to descend. There was an unexpected pocket of turbulence that was strong enough to knock him off balance. He fell against the bathroom wall. I hate bloody flying. He returned to his seat, masking his anxiety as effectively as he had done throughout his career in the Royal Marines and since he’d ended it just under two years ago. He sat down and fastened his seatbelt tight. He glanced at Charles sitting on the other side of him. He could tell by the very slight curl of amusement on the man’s lips that his secret was out. Charles Beaumont knew that fearless Captain Caveman was terrified of flying.
* * * * *
The sky was heavy with dense grey cloud, making the jet’s descent a bumpy ride. Kane felt his stomach take several flips before they eventually reached the safety of the ground. Preparations for impending war were all around them with the presence of military jets lined up on the tarmac of the airfield. Soldiers milled around them in the small terminal building and security was tight. Kane was surprised they were even allowed to land there. Harker must have called in one hell of a favour. She had many influential friends and one of them happened to be North Bundhara’s Ambassador in London. She had made significant charitable donations in the country on a regular basis after the Tsunami and he surmised that they would have been keen to show their support.
Kamol had been targeted by another rocket from South Bundhara whilst Kane and his team had been flying. It had landed in the western quarter and knocked out an ammunitions factory and a slum area. It made him edgy. He wanted to get Rebecca out that very day, but he knew he had to sit tight. Her injuries and surgery early that morning were going to make it impossible for her to travel. He was thankful that the private hospital where she was a patient was in the more salubrious east end of the city. To target the west end made sense. It bared the brunt of Kamol’s industrial area.
A sleek black Audi A8 drove up outside the terminal building. Kane stepped out into the heat resisting the urge to pull at his tie, finding breathing a strain in the unbearable heat. He travelled alone with Charles whilst his team went to hire vehicles, obtain weapons, and work out a tactical plan for getting Rebecca safely from the hospital. The car journeyed quickly through the largely flat terrain weaving between rice fields and lush green pastures. The only blot on the otherwise picturesque Asian landscape was the line of tanks going in the opposite direction towards the nearby border with South Bundhara.
The larger of the two, South Bundhara was determined to reclaim its sovereignty over the North. The North had declared itself independent fifty-one years ago after a civil war. It maintained the old democratic order with a monarchy while the South had developed into a communist regime. The North had grown rich through their textile trade, foodstuffs like rice and precious gems - jade, rubies and diamonds from the abundant mines all situated within their territory. They maintained a healthy relationship with the West.
The South boasted some significant oil reserves that enticed lucrative trade with the West, notably the British and the Americans. But they were jealous of the rich trade the North enjoyed with them. They were also resentful of western ideals of democracy that infiltrated their society from neighbouring North Bundhara - a country considered immoral, decadent and a western puppet by the South Bundenese government. The influences from the North had been causing unrest, protest for civil liberties, terrorist attacks from the BLA and a fight to stop the government’s bountiful source of income from human trafficking for forced labour and sexual exploitation.
The answer appeared obvious to South Bundhara’s military leaders. They would close their borders, refuse to acknowledge the independence of the North and forcibly unify the country as a whole once more. They would then be able to enjoy the fruits of the trade with the West and put up a stronger barrier to western influence and democracy.
Kane found himself able to breathe again when the car’s air conditioning finally succeeded in cooling him down. The US and the UK were taking calculated risks to appear friendly and supportive to both the North and the South. But they made it clear that any invasion would be condemned and offered to negotiate some kind of truce between the two countries. There had been many meetings on neutral ground but no agreement had been reached. The West obviously wanted to keep trade flowing on the easy terms that the North had proffered and were eager for a settlement.
North Bundhara wanted an all-out commitment from the US and her allies that they would provide military support in the event of an invasion. But they appeared reluctant, not wishing to offend the South to the point that they would close off the oil supply. There was also the threat of international condemnation from certain key quarters that were sympathetic to the South, and terrorist threats if they did and if they didn’t. It was a political minefield that spelt trouble and danger for the West either way.
Kane diverted his mind from ruminating and turned his attention to the soldiers patrolling the streets in between the people and Buddhist monks. They looked odd and out of place in their dull grey uniforms against the backdrop of the bright colourful markets and bazaars that surrounded the car on either side. They were on the outskirts of Kamol. It was like going into another world. It wasn’t hard to see why North Bundhara’s elite and government were criticised for denying wealth to their people. There were slums covered in rubbish and beggars missing hands and limbs severed for the punishment of stealing. Cows and donkeys roamed up and down the small sweaty streets with their owners and sometimes on their own amidst the scurrying people.
It felt like they were the only car on the street, but he had seen two smaller ones behind them somewhere. They were probably taxis crawling through the chaos like themselves. He heard the jingle of a bicycle bell just outside the window and then all of a sudden heard a chorus of them. Bicycles swamped all sides of the car, back and front. Some of them had trailers on the back and were carrying people. They used their bells in a chorus as they skilfully manoeuvred around the traffic. He’d never seen so many bicycles in one space. After a while the scene began to change again. It wasn’t long before the car was moving at speed on a motorway. It led to a concrete jungle of cold grey steel and modern glass buildings. They were accompanied by other shiny new sleek designer cars. The contrast was deafening.
They approached a neat glass building of five floors in its own grounds. The car drove around a small roundabout that contained a fountain hidden between a tasteful arrangement of green foliage and palms and came to a halt outside an open air porch. Kane looked at the building with approval. It wasn’t dissimilar to the private hospital he paid for his autistic sister to reside in so she could obtain pioneering new treatment for her condition.
There were a host of journalists and photographers standing on the steps, all trying to get that exclusive from Rebecca. They turned tail and rushed towards him as he got out of the car. They snapped off a hundred shots, flashing light in his face. Questions were immediately hurled at him. They knew exactly who he was and why he was there. He was expecting interest from the press but he didn’t care for the fact that the police were doing nothing to control them or hold them back from the hospital.
He’d learned on the plane that there had been several security breaches with the press trying to get into her room. He frowned at the policemen standing outside chatting and smoking, watching the scene with a lack of interest, generally being idle. He wasn’t impressed. Thank God Harker cared enough about her employee to send her own security team. Kane watched a journalist carrying a camera take advantage of the commotion and slip by the police through the glass doors. He narrowed his eyes at the man and ignored the questions, leaving Charles to deal with them. He started making his way through the sea of reporters in a hurried calm fashion. His intimidating height was always an asset and they began moving out of his way.
Charles was suddenly beside him, “What’s up Mr. Kane?”
“Harker was right. The security is non-existent.” He walked through the glass doors keeping his eyes trained on the man. He strode purposefully across the beige marble floor of the lobby and easily caught up with the man at the lifts. In one swift motion he took hold of the man’s arm pushing it painfully up his back and pulled him away from the lift doors.
“Hey, what the hell is going on?” the voice was English.
Kane started marching the man back across the lobby. “Rebecca Eaton is not expecting visitors, especially members of the press,” he told the man politely.
“Who says?” the man snapped back at him.
Kane could smell alcohol on the man’s breath and body odour. He had evidently been up all night drinking by his dishevelled creased appearance and smell. Kane answered him, “I do.” He started to feel strong resistance from the man who deliberately slid his feet along the floor to slow Kane down.
“Get the fuck off me. I am entitled to get an interview.”
“No interviews. Ms Eaton needs to rest. Move it.”
“Stop fucking pushing me. Maybe I should get some shots of you. Eaton’s heavy man with a posh public schoolboy accent. What’s your relationship to Rebecca Eaton?”
“Security and Close Protection. I want you out.” The man pushed back at him using his heavy frame to gain a small amount of pressure. He dug an elbow into Kane’s taut stomach. Kane ignored it and kept pushing him towards the door.
The man was straining to get a look at Kane’s face. “Close Protection eh? How close are you?” The man was wagging a finger at him now. “I’m sure I have seen you somewhere. I’ve seen you with her before, haven’t I? You must be shagging her.”
Kane watched the twisted bitter smile on the older man’s face turn malicious as he tightened his grip on him. He sneered at Kane. The smell was almost overpowering and his venomous spit was getting in Kane’s face. He kept his mouth shut and his temper controlled, making sure he wore a blank expression. It was an art he’d perfected during his career in the Royal Marines. But the man kept pushing him with a continuing barrage of taunts.
“Tell me, what is it going to be like fucking damaged goods every night?” That was it. He pulled the man down a corridor leading off the lobby and pushed him face first against the marble wall. The man cried out. Kane twisted the man’s arm further up his back and held him there.
“Shit, what happened to my nose? What the hell did you do to me? It’s bleeding. You’re dead, fucking dead, and so is that bitch upstairs. They should have chopped her bloody head off. She is always getting one over on me.”
Kane made a sarcastic statement, “I can see you are a fan...” He paused. A worried Charles was standing by his side trying to hold back hospital security and a police officer. Charles was making every effort to explain who Kane was and what he was doing. So, security had finally materialised.
Kane introduced himself in an authoritative tone and demanded to know why this reporter wasn’t stopped from entering the building. The squat burly security guard was about to take him on but he stopped and backed off instantly at the mention of Anna Harker’s name. Even the police officer backed down. Harker clearly had some clout in North Bundhara. The men were now almost bowing and scraping at him. Kane turned his captive round to face him and glared at him and his bloodied nose.
Kane spoke softly in a tone that only served to highlight the menace of his words. “Little tip for you,” he lifted up the press card hanging around the man’s neck and read it, “Kevin Boyle. There has been an attempt on Rebecca Eaton’s life in this hospital as you well know, and now I have been sent to protect her. You can tell those tabloid vultures out there that if I catch any one of them near her room, compromising her security, then I will see them as a potential life threat and deal with them using whatever means I deem necessary. As you can see I am being lenient with you now.” He gave the man a deadly smile and tugged on his arm again to lend physicality to his threat. He got the satisfaction of a strangled cry. “Now spread that around.”
Then he really got in Boyle’s face, and lowered his voice just a touch more. Boyle stared at him with undisguised fear. “And if I see you or hear of you in here again, or I catch you calling Rebecca damaged goods once more and printing crap about her, I won’t let you walk out of here like I am going to do today. I will throw you down those stairs. Do you understand me, Kevin Boyle?”
Boyle was still staring at him, silent. Then he nodded quickly. “Good. And for the record they promoted me to Lieutenant–Colonel before I left the Royal Marines. Please make sure you get that right when you assassinate me in your column. Now get out.”
Kane threw Boyle at hospital security and the police officer. He watched him wipe the blood from his nose as the police officer started marching him out. Kane made sure the officer led him outside and away from the door before he turned back to Charles. The young man’s handsome Indian features looked worried as they walked to the reception desk to announce their arrival and find out what room Rebecca was in.
Charles asked him, “Do you think it is wise to go around threatening the press like that? We want to keep them on our side, Mr. Kane. I know Kevin Boyle is trouble but...”
“Look Charles,” he snapped with impatience. “Anna Harker has hired me to provide security for Rebecca and that is what I am doing. If you don’t care for my methods in dealing with scum, which compared to others I know in the protection industry are far superior and restrained, I suggest you go home. Men like Boyle don’t easily take no for an answer and sometimes you have to encourage them.”
Kane felt irritated at this point. He didn’t want to delay getting to Rebecca’s room any more. He gave the pretty young receptionist a smile as he asked which room Rebecca was in. He wondered if she was even out of her teens. She had clearly been watching his handling of Boyle and was smiling at him with admiration. He’d expected condemnation.
“Hello, Mr. Kane, we have been expecting you. Thank you for dealing with that man. That is the fifth time he has managed to get in here. He has been bothering the staff for information. I don’t think he likes Miss Eaton very much the way he talks about her. I don’t think he wants to write anything good. Miss Eaton is in room 520 on the top floor.”
“Thank you. Let me know if he causes any more trouble,” he told her flashing her another smile. Mischievousness lit his eyes as he raised them from signing the visitors book to look at her once more. He noticed her eyes widened and she flushed a delicate crimson with the smile she returned him. He felt a small surge of triumph. He passed the book to Charles who was looking at him with disapproval.
Doesn’t the man understand it pays to be friendly with the staff? It makes them more co-operative when you need them. She is very pretty but not in Rebecca’s league. Still, if I were your age Charles, I would be in there. Maybe you are gay or maybe... He considered the warm smile and look exchanged between Charles and Harker before they left. Or maybe you prefer your ideal woman a little older. He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows as he followed Charles into the lifts. He felt apprehensive, excited, worried all at the same time as he stepped inside the small steel box.