36

THE DOOR creaked open and a man entered. He pointed at Fraser and spat two words: “Get up.”

Fraser struggled to his feet and a few stammered words left his bloodied mouth, “For pity’s sake please …” But the handle of the man’s pistol smacked off the side of his jaw and knocked him into the cavern wall. As he staggered a powerful hand gripped his shoulder and he was dragged towards the door by a second shadowy figure.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking him? Stop it! Stop it!” Vanessa screamed at her captors.

“Shut the fuck up bitch or I come back here and make you beg to join him,” their captor said gesturing towards his genitals, leaving Vanessa in no doubt about what he had in mind for her.

Fraser was dragged out into the corridor and propelled along it towards the main chamber. He knew about the medieval city that existed underneath present-day Edinburgh but this had a more industrial feel to it. Perhaps they were still in Glasgow, he did not know; his period of unconsciousness had distorted his perception of time and its passing. As his mind ran over the possibilities he was thrown to the ground in front of Tariq.

He was restrained on his knees. Craning his head round he saw that he had been returned to the same chamber that had been used for the ransom video. A shudder of cold fear wracked his body and mind.

Tariq spoke in a measured tone, “So, Mr Fraser, your moment of truth has, I’m afraid, arrived.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Fraser, his voice shaking.

“I mean that, despite the pathetic attempts of the infidel pigs in the FBI and MI5 to fool us, we know our brother has not been freed. Now you must pay for their lies and treachery with your life.”

Fraser felt rough hands dragging him to his feet and in front of a huge banner emblazoned with Islamic writing. Once again he was forced down onto his knees and as he saw one of his captors start to film him, he knew that the last grains of his life were slipping away.

“Stop, please stop,” he sobbed. “Look, I can get you whatever you need, just let me help you,” he spluttered through his broken mouth.

Tariq looked at him dispassionately, his dark eyes pulsing with contempt. “But Mr Fraser it is not I who needs help, it is you who is the one in need of divine intervention.”

Tariq reached down and picked up the long curved blade before he looked at the camera and spat a string of words in the language of his faith.

The Imam moved towards Fraser and stood behind him before speaking to the camera again in his thickly accented English, “We demanded the release of our brother but instead you sought to deceive us with a film of his faked release. For that you have brought death on this godless son of a whore.”

Fraser felt a sharp rush of air on his cheek and caught a glint of metal. He knew what was coming next. “No! Wait!” he screamed as Tariq’s words filled the background and the scimitar began its downwards sweep.

“I despatch you into your hell, unbeliever.”

The gleaming steel sliced through sinew and bone and the Leader of Glasgow City Council lost his head for the last time.

“Allahu akbar,” shouted Tariq and his followers took up the chant with him.

In her cell, snivelling in the dirt, Vanessa heard the chant cascading along the corridor and her awful certainty at what it meant sent a shudder through her body. The door to her room burst open and a second shudder of raw fear went through her.

Tariq stood in the doorway and smiled viciously. “So, capitalist whore, what do I do with you now? That is the question.”

For a moment Vanessa’s former pride stoked a fire of hate. “Go to hell!” she shouted.

But Tariq had other ideas. “I believe that will be your final destination, not mine, Miss Velvet, but I wonder should I take some pleasure from you before I send you there?”

He closed the few steps between them with a languid movement. He grabbed her jaw with his hand forcing her to her feet.

“Those painted lips are faded and dirty. All your beauty is nothing now, Jezebel. What does your life mean now that it has turned to shit?”

Tariq’s face hovered an inch away from hers and Vanessa felt sure he was about to kiss her.

His eyes burned into hers and he rolled his tongue out of his mouth and along his top lip.

“Tell me bitch, should I despoil you in the name of Allah?”

Vanessa began to sob uncontrollably. For once no words came to her, such was her sense of hopelessness.

Tariq uttered one word. “Quiet.” His lips clamped on hers, cruel and hard. Their dryness and the harshness of the kiss were repellent.

Then, to her surprise Tariq recoiled and spat on the ground at her feet.

“No, painted harlot, I have other delights in store for you. But first I have more important matters to attend to. For now I will leave you in the company of my men. Maybe they will take pleasure from you. But know this, Miss Velvet. I will return and when I do you must prepare to meet your fate.”

With that Tariq laughed and left the room. Even after he shut the cell door she could hear his cackles of vicious delight slowly receding down the corridor.