Kharon

by Wayne Marinovich

  'It won't do them any good if we got ourselves killed so let's take this slow and careful,' Gibbs said, pulling the Glock out and chambering a round. Warren did the same.

  'There is a loading area down the side alley with a silver shutter and small door in it. You go to the left of the building and wait at that door. I'll go around the other way and try to see if I can get a look inside.'

  The two men crossed the road and split up. Gibbs moved quickly to the right and lifted the Glock in front of him as he approached the corner, peeking around it. The right alley was empty except for three old metal skips that had been piled up on one another behind the floodwall. Two gulls sitting on top of the rubbish skip squawked and took to the air. Looking above him, he could see large double doors that had a metal beam protruding out of the side of the buildings from a time when large, heavy cargoes were hoisted up to the second floor.

  Gibbs eased up to the next corner and peered around to see an empty parking lot at the back of the building. Running along the back of the building he came to the other alley and saw Warren standing, facing the road, his Glock out in front of him. Gibbs whistled, and Warren spun around.

  'Anything?'

  Gibbs shook his head, and then tried the door handle. With a rusty grinding sound, it opened.

  'There are no vans or trucks around back, so I am not sure if anyone is here yet,' Gibbs said. 'Stay alert.’

  They ducked through the metal door into the open expanse of the empty ground floor. It was covered in a few inches of putrid-smelling water that came up to their ankles, the smell stinging their noses. Warren eased the door closed behind them with a loud screech. They both froze and listened. The sun streamed in through the ten dirty windows to the right of them and reflected up off the standing water, lighting up the ceiling. Against the left wall were large empty metal racks with old plastic drums floating in the water beneath the shelves. On the opposite side of the room from them, was a staircase with a wooden balustrade.

  The sloshing noise as they walked echoed around the empty room until they reached the base of the stairs. Stopping on the bottom step, they were silent again. Gibbs took the lead, Glock raised out in front of him, covering the stairwell above from danger. They inched up the first flight and around onto a small concrete landing before walking up the second flight.

  Cream paint peeled off the damp walls in strips and the concrete steps got drier as they ascended through what was the level of the tidal flooding. A small pile of chewed-up newspaper was squashed into the corner of the landing, small pellet-like rat droppings littering the floor around the rodents' nest. Gibbs clicked his fingers once, and Warren came up alongside him.

  ‘Is that music I hear?’

  Warren nodded.

  'I assume that doorway leads to the hallway that once serviced the apartments. Once inside I'll cover the left apartments, you cover the right,' Gibbs whispered.

  Warren nodded.

  The wooden floor creaked as they edged along the wall of the main hallway that spanned the entire length of the building. Most of the actual apartment doors had been scavenged, leaving only the bright sunlit apartments. The music grew louder. Gibbs moved into the first small apartment to their left, sweeping his Glock across the space. It was empty and stripped of all recyclable items.

  Moving back out of the apartment, he joined Warren in the hallway again, and they walked into the second apartment on the right. As they entered the brightly sunlit room, the thudding base from a song could be heard along with men's voices. Walking into the middle of the apartment, Gibbs could see all the way to the end of the building. All the inter-leading walls had been stripped away for building material. Standing in the furthest apartment, with their backs turned, were three men talking amongst themselves. A radio was placed on an old wooden crate between them.

  Gibbs pulled back to Warren's position.

  'I am going to walk straight towards them and engage them in conversation. You creep down the long hallway and cover me from the left as I enter the last apartment.'

  Warren nodded and crept out of the second apartment. Gibbs waited until he was gone then stepped through the first wall and started walking towards them. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Warren, keeping pace with him. He clenched his jaw, eyes focused ahead of him.

  The three men were wearing large tracksuit hoodies with green and black waders on underneath. Two of them had pump-action shotguns that they had leant up against their legs. The third looked to have no weapons concealed in his waders.

  'Good evening, gentlemen,' Gibbs said.

  All three spun around with fright and stared at Gibbs, their eyes wide. The shorter man of African descent spoke first. 'Are you Gibbs?'

  'Yes I am,' Gibbs said, as he looked at the man down the sights of his Glock. 'Can you gents lower those shotguns to the floor, please?’

  They looked at each other.

  'Just for a few minutes while we have a little talk.'

  The two men leant forward and lowered the shotguns to the ground. The third man pulled out a large knife and placed it on the crate next to the radio.

  ‘Now turn that music off, please.’

  The man nearest the radio leaned across and turned it off, flashing a glare at Gibbs.

  'Thank you for your cooperation,' Gibbs said and lowered the Glock down to his side. 'Can you tell me what Warlord Scott's house used to be before he moved in?’

  'It was an old hotel in Richmond,' the man on the left said.

  Gibbs nodded. 'What's your name?'

  'Jesse, sir,' he replied.

  'Okay, Jesse. Has Tom told you why you are here then?'

  The man nodded. 'We already have a few informants lined up to meet us. They will be waiting for us at a few different meeting places…' His eyes drifted to a spot behind Gibbs.

  Gibbs turned around to see Warren standing in the doorway, panic on his face as someone behind him pressed a long blade to his throat. Gibbs raised the Glock and aimed at the man’s head.

  'Let him go, mate, or you will die where you stand,' Gibbs shouted, then heard a boot scuffing the doorway behind him. Spinning around, he dropped down to his right, as one of the men reached down for a shotgun. The Glock boomed twice as the man jerked backwards and fell on his side, Gibbs swung around to cover the other men, when he heard a phutt sound behind him, and the electrified barbs of the taser struck him in the back sending pulsing pain through his body

  • • •

  A swinging motion started to make Gibbs feel nauseous. Somewhere near him, a voice was calling his name. It was muffled by the thumping in his head. Opening his eyes, he looked around at what was a darkened room with a blueish glow from outside the windows to his left. His whole body ached, but the shooting pain in his wrists began to clear his head. Looking up, he saw that the rope that tethered his wrists was slung over a large iron hook suspended from the ceiling.

  'Gibbs!' the voice called again. 'Gibbs! Wake up!'

  He looked to his right to the source of the voice.

  'Warren! You okay, mate?'

  Warren swung on a hook next to him. 'My wrists are sore but I am fine, I think. They injected you in the shoulder with something. You have been out for hours.’

  'What happened?'

  'After they tasered you, they knocked me about a bit, and then got bored. One of them made a call to someone before they dragged us up the stairs to the third floor. It has been quite a long time since they left.'

  'It's light out there, so is it evening?'

  'No. That is dawn breaking. I think it is high tide if my maths is correct,' Warren said.

  'Quiet!' whispered Gibbs.

  A sound of someone walking around on the floor below them came drifting up the stairwell that was ahead of them, against the wall. The rest of the third floor was empty with white peeling walls and collapsed ceiling panels. Gibbs twisted around on the rope bindings to look behind them, but the searing pain forced him to stop.

  Two men with black
balaclavas walked up the stairs and crossed over to them. Both were tall with broad shoulders, one had a black all-weather jacket on, the other had a long beige raincoat hanging down to his black Wellingtons. Looking down at their hands Gibbs could tell that one man was white and the other black. The man with the black coat took a few steps forward and spoke first in a low rasping voice. 'For your own good and the safety of your families, stop snooping around London.'

  Gibbs could hear that the man was trying to disguise his voice. ‘Get lost, arsehole. Is this the best you can do to scare us?' he said.

  'Step aside and leave them to me!' the other man said in a German accent. He took out a Beretta with a long silencer on the end of the barrel. Stopping in front of Warren, he reached up and grabbed Warren's head with his left hand and snapped it back.

  'So you are the boyfriend to the vicious little slut called Kat,' the man said.

  Warren looked down at him then spat at him. ‘If you’ve hurt her at all I’ll kill you.’

  The man stepped backwards, wiping the three-holed balaclava. A growl rose up within him, and he swung the Beretta at Warren’s face, smashing it into his cheek.

  Warren groaned as a trickle of blood slipped down his eyebrow and rolled down his cheek.

  'Take it easy,' the other man said. 'Our orders are not to hurt them.’

  The tall German walked over to Gibbs, and they locked eyes. Fierce blue eyes stared back at him. There was hatred there. A hint of teeth appeared as the man smirked just before head-butting Gibbs. 'That was for Markus Schmidt.'

  Gibbs's head snapped back and then rolled forward as he hung there. He tried to clear his head then heard the other man shout, 'Listen, mate, there is no need for this brutality.'

  The German turned and fired his Beretta at his colleague. Gibbs heard the two suppressed sounds and the man fell to his knees before rolling sideways.

  The German walked up to the body and stepped over it, turning to face Gibbs and Warren.

  'Neither of you will ever see your loved ones again. They will be on the next ship to foreign shores. You can try and find them of course, but I wouldn't trust any of my friends if I were you.'

  'You fucking bastard!' Warren screamed.

  The man laughed and reached down to pull the black balaclava off the dead man's head.

  'No!' shouted Gibbs as he looked at Tom Scott's dead eyes.

  ‘See, Gibbs, there is no person beyond the reach of my employer. Personally, I would have killed you two right now, but my orders were to leave you with the knowledge that you’ll be without your wife and son for the rest of your life.’

  ‘You had better kill us now. We will not rest until you are lying at our feet bleeding out,’ Gibbs said.

  'Goodbye, Gibbs,' the man in the beige raincoat said and turned to walk out. Both Gibbs and Warren screamed abuse as he descended the stairs. With a final laugh, he disappeared down the stairwell. The noise of his footfalls faded away.

  Warren broke the silence. 'I can't believe Tom had anything to do with this. What is going on? I thought he was our friend.'

  'Falling to pieces now won't help anyone, Warren,' Gibbs said, looking at Warren who was close to tears. Warren nodded.

  'How heavy are you?' Gibbs asked.

  'What?'

  'How heavy are you?

  'Um…Eighty-five kilograms.'

  'Okay. You are much lighter than I am, so I’ll twist around with my back towards you. Swing both your legs up and wedge them onto my shoulders. Push down on them so that you can pull yourself up the short rope. Grab the meat hook and slip the rope off.'

  'I am not sure…'

  'Do it, Warren,' Gibbs said. 'Think of Kat.'

  Gibbs felt the feet on his shoulders and stifled a groan from the downward force as Warren clawed his way up. 'I've done it.'

  He jumped down and grabbed Gibbs's legs. Lifting him up, it allowed Gibbs to flick the rope off. Untying one another's hands they walked to the stairwell. It was quiet below. ‘Jesus, I am getting too old for this crap,’ he said, rubbing his wrists.

  Warren smiled and shook his head.

  Gibbs ran down the stairs and then to the right, coming to the large wooden doors that were at the opposite end of the hallway they had come in through. The latch stayed sealed as Gibbs lifted with all his might. It was too rusty to budge. The sound of a boat engine somewhere outside focused his strength. Warren joined him, and together they forced the large latch sideways, swinging the large door outwards.

  'Bloody hell,' Warren shouted as the full mass of the Thames tidal surge swirled a meter below them, gushing up against the side of the building. The big skips Gibbs had seen earlier were scraping up against the side of the building under the force. Raging brown water flooded for as far as the eye could see. The tall skyscrapers of Canary Wharf stood defiantly off in the distant blue haze. The old headquarters of the Phoenix Council stood shrouded in blue, mocking them.

  'There the bastard is,' Gibbs shouted and pointed to a large white barge that was powering its way into the tide.

  'Damn it! They are getting away,' Warren said.

  'We'll have to wait here until the surge goes out again and then head back to the van. I have another phone there.'

  'How will that help?

  ‘We now have a lead on them. That man is related to Markus Schmidt somehow. Andrei might know more about him because he and Butler recruited him.'

  Chapter 13

  Borehamwood, North of London, London, England, UK - 2033

  Pain seared across Christina's cheeks as the wide silver tape was ripped from her face, and the vile piece of oily cloth was pulled from her mouth, forcing a gag reflex.

  'Are you going to behave yourself now, Christina?' the man with the thick German accent asked.

  Tilting her head back, she tried to peek below the blindfold. She could only see a cold concrete floor and black Wellington boots in front of her. Shifting her balance, she twisted her shoulders and more pain coursed up her arms from the black cable ties that cut into her wrists.

  'Where is my son, you bastard?'

  'Don't worry about him. He has been given something to sedate him and is asleep only a few metres from you.'

  'You’d better not hurt him, or I will kill you.'

  'I am sure you think you could. You and that dark haired bitch have accounted for quite a few of my men up until now. Many have painful private parts and would love the chance to get both of you on a bed and teach you a lesson or two.'

  ‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for those pigs?’ she said.

  ‘I am all that stands in the way of that happening, Christina. Co-operate for the next few days and you may just survive it all.'

  Christina heard the tearing sound of tape off skin and then a moan of a woman next to her.

  'Ah, young Kat, I believe,' the man said. 'I have just paid a visit to both of your better halves. Sadly they were both hanging from meat hooks in a warehouse in the Floodzone, so not really in any better shape than you.'

  'You fucking bastard!' Kat shouted.

  The German burst out laughing. 'That’s exactly what your boyfriend shouted when I told him you’re going on a journey and that he will probably never see you again. You were made for one another.'

  Christina threw her head back and tried to scan around her surroundings a little more. A large pair of hands grabbed her head and slipped the blindfold down. More rough hands lifted her under her arms and dragged her to her feet. Her legs throbbed from sitting on the cold concrete.

  'Bring the kid too,' she heard someone say behind her.

  'Christina!' shouted Kat.

  'It’ll be okay, Kat,' she shouted back.

  Her captor continued to push her forward, lifting her slightly.

  'I demand to know where you are taking me,' she shouted, then heard Stuart moaning behind her. 'It's okay, Stu. Mommy’s here.'

  'Please keep quiet, Christina. You don't want to get him angry,' a soft male voice said from behind her.

&n
bsp; 'Where are you taking me?'

  'You and Stuart are being loaded into a truck.'

  'Please tell me where we are going?’ she asked, her throat closing up with fear.

  Tears formed in her eyes and her lips quivered. She gasped a breath in shock as she was forced up against a cold wall. A loud screeching noise to the left of her made her jump. Metal on metal. She got goosebumps as the sound went through her.

  'Okay, Christina, you are going to be getting onto the back of a truck now. I will lift your blindfold up a little so you can see the rungs of the small ladder. Climb up and move inside until you get to a mattress. Stuart will be joining you soon.’

  'What about Kat and the others? Where are we going? Are they coming with me?'

  Gentle hands lifted her blindfold. 'They will be in another truck. All I know is, we are heading to the north of England.’

  'Thank you.'

  'Please hurry because if you dawdle, he will come over here and punish us both.'

  • • •

  Christina woke up with a start and heard a soft murmuring near her. She reached across and placed her bound hands on Stuart's shoulder as he lay asleep on a light blue mattress. The humming of the truck's big tyres on the tarmac was the only other sound that echoed around her. Her blindfold had slid up again, and she could make out two benches that were on either side of the interior of the truck. With her eyes acclimatising, she saw the silhouette of someone sitting on the end of the bench, two metres away from her.

  'Hello?' she said.

  The person's head turned towards her.

  'Could I get a drink of water, please?' she asked.

  Stuart stirred next to her, and she gently caressed his fine hair.

  The figure at the end of the seat stood up and reached across into a black container on the other bench. Pulling out a plastic bottle of water, he opened it and walked over to Christina. 'Here you are. Drink quickly. I think we will be stopping soon.'

  Christina took a long sip and felt better as the liquid washed away the dry, dusty taste in her mouth. 'Thank you… I am sorry. I don't know your name.'

  'My name is Owen,' the man said.