‘Go! GO!’ I yelled at Dina, but Cerdo was way ahead of her. The white horse catapulted forwards with such violence that she was left scrabbling to stay with him. The two animals stretched into a full gallop, their eager rivalry compounded by the fact we were heading for home.
I kept Geronimo as close alongside as I could, holding back slightly into the line of fire as the red Jeep swerved down onto the flat sand behind us.
And in my head, the calculations swirled and formed like ice. A fit horse can gallop flat out at twenty-five to thirty miles an hour for maybe a mile before it’s blown – two miles at the most. It was a shame Cerdo wasn’t a Quarter Horse, too, because that particular breed has been clocked at closer to fifty-five over its namesake distance.
An off-road vehicle, on the other hand, can keep going until it runs out of fuel in the tank. The beach was firm, the ridged sand even enough to make fifty or sixty miles an hour feasible if the occupants didn’t mind losing a few fillings in the process.
There was no escaping the fact we were not going to be able to run from this one. I was wearing the SIG on my right hip. This time, regardless of whether the horses were gun-shy or not, I knew I might have to use it.
As I urged Geronimo on, I checked back over my shoulder, fully expecting to see the Jeep gaining on us with every stride. To my intense surprise, it did not even seem to be giving chase. I yelled to Dina and sat up abruptly, managing to slow Geronimo’s headlong flight. Fortunately, the initial burst of speed had taken enough out of him for the old Quarter Horse to be glad of the excuse to drop back to a shambling trot, head low. Dina went for the easy way of stopping, which was simply to steer Cerdo into the sea and let the water act as a drogue chute.
And without the jostling vibration, I could see the Jeep had never come after us at all. It had bounced down onto the sand and carved a sweeping turn around Torquil. Just for a moment, I thought it must be some friend of his, and that would explain his reaction when the Jeep had first appeared.
But the Jeep continued to circle, tightening in until it was literally kicking sand into the boy’s face. Still he stood his ground, hand up to shield his eyes, not realising that the Jeep had neatly cut off his escape route back towards the car where his bodyguards waited, out of sight and earshot, oblivious.
‘Run,’ I muttered under my breath. ‘Run, dammit.’
But Torquil didn’t run, didn’t move at all until the Jeep swerved towards him suddenly, as though intending to mow him down. Only then did he take a couple of fast steps back, stumbled and went sprawling. The Jeep slewed to a halt just ahead of him.
As I pulled up, I saw a dark-clad figure jump out, pointing something at Torquil with his arm outstretched. I saw the boy paddle backwards, panic in every line of him now as he tried to scrabble away on all fours. The man – the outline was definitely male – stood his ground easily. He maybe even took a moment so the full import of what was about to happen to his victim really hit home.
Then the weapon in his hand jerked and Torquil lurched backwards into the sand, his body convulsing.
‘Oh my God!’ Dina cried, urging Cerdo back out of the surf, fighting for control. ‘They shot him! Torquil’s shot.’
I barged Geronimo in front of her when she would have gone barrelling back towards the Jeep, blocking her path.
‘It’s a Taser,’ I said, earning a furious look. I’d been hit with them enough to know.
‘So what?’ She pulled at her reins, trying to disentangle the two horses, and only succeeded in flustering the pair of them. I grabbed Cerdo’s bridle and held on for grim death.
A hundred metres away, the driver of the Jeep had jumped out and helped his passenger load a largely insensible Torquil into the back of the vehicle. They took an end each and more or less threw him in, the way you’d toss a long heavy bag over the edge of a cliff. I heard the thump of his body landing, even from there. The two men jumped back into the front.
‘Charlie, for God’s sake, let go,’ Dina wailed, close to tears now. ‘Do something!’
‘Leave it, Dina!’ I snapped and, more quietly as the Jeep picked up speed and revved out of sight into the dunes, ‘Don’t you understand? There’s nothing I can do.’
But there was one thing – the only thing. I checked my watch out of habit. It was 09.23. I grabbed my cellphone out of my pocket, started to punch in the emergency number.
‘Don’t!’ If anything, Dina’s voice was more stricken than before.
‘What? Dina, I have to call this in, right now.’
‘No,’ she said, pale, her lips bloodless as a corpse, eyes huge. ‘Please. If it’s the same people … you’re the one who doesn’t understand. You can’t go to the police.’
I eyed her for a moment in exasperation, then remembered the conversation I’d had with Manda at Torquil’s birthday party. How she’d told me they’d threatened to kill her, slowly and painfully, if the authorities were called in. And Benedict, too. Despite the threats to their son, Benedict’s parents had hesitated, and they’d mutilated him. I snapped my phone shut and shoved it back in my jacket.
‘Let’s go find his protection team,’ I said shortly. ‘After that, it’s up to them who they call.’
I didn’t wait for her to answer, just nudged Geronimo forwards, heading for the spot where Torquil had been abducted. The horse seemed reluctant to approach, acting spooked as if he could sense that something bad had happened. Or maybe he just didn’t like the whiff of exhaust smoke that still hung in the air.
‘What’s that?’ Dina asked suddenly from behind me, pointing into the churned-up sand. I followed her arm and spotted something gleaming darkly. Jumping down, I discovered Torquil’s expensive PDA. It must have dropped out of his pocket when he fell. So much for the thought that Torquil might be able to call for help.
I picked it up automatically, shoved it in my pocket, and climbed back into the saddle.
The two of us rode up into the dunes until we spotted Torquil’s big gold Bentley, with his two bodyguards sitting inside. They got out as soon as they saw us, alerted by something that all was not well with their absent principal. I saw a familiar dread in the way they carried themselves.
The shit, I reasoned, was just about to hit the fan in a very big way.