Rescuing Rebecca

by Serena James

  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.

  Chapter Five

  Kane watched Charles press the button for the fifth floor. He told Kane, “Rebecca replaced Kevin Boyle at ATM News. Anna had just bought the ATM channel and she wanted fresh blood. She’d heard about Boyle and the way he harassed the female production staff. He was nearly always drunk on the job and there were rumours that he did drugs. Anna wanted a fresh start for ATM and its news to boost the ratings. She told me that she had always admired Rebecca and was keen for her to be working for the channel’s news team. I fired Boyle for her. Now he’s working freelance for newspapers. He does a lot of work for that rag, The Popular Press.”

  “The celebrity driven one that loves to dish the dirt and makes it all up as they go along?”

  “That’s the one. It’s a shame really, he used to be a good journalist and correspondent.”

  “Hell of a comedown.”

  “Yes I suppose it is. That’s why he is so mad at Rebecca.”

  “Has he been bothering her?”

  “Yes. He’s been... well you could say, stalking her. She tried to keep it quiet but Anna found out at the annual ATM Ball at the Grosvenor a couple of weeks ago. He came in hurling abuse at her. He was drunk. Normally she would brush him off, but he was getting in her face that night, physically pushing her around. But Rebecca still didn’t want anyone’s help.”

  There was contempt and disbelief in Charles’s voice. Kane surmised that he’d tried to intervene to help her out but she’d given him the classic feminist Rebecca shove off. Charles continued, “She never wants anyone’s help. She never shows fear of anything. I sometimes wonder if she is even capable of feeling it. But then maybe she is just better at hiding it than the rest of us. She should be frightened of Boyle. I have seen what he is capable of – he is a nasty piece of work.”

  Kane couldn’t help but sympathise with Charles’s point of view regarding Rebecca, but he noticed that Charles looked uncomfortable telling him about Boyle. His mind looked to be somewhere else for a moment, remembering something, something connected with Boyle that he wasn’t going to mention.

  “I should have been told about him,” Kane said evenly. “He is a credible threat to Rebecca’s security. I’ll have him checked out when my team gets here.” They stepped out of the lift and began walking along the long corridor.

  “You’re right, I should have mentioned he might be here. I’m sorry. Rebecca is a close friend and I have been a bit distracted since she disappeared. I... we have all been worried sick about her. At the party she nearly lost her temper with Boyle. It doesn’t happen very often but she was shouting back at him. They were talking privately but someone heard him make the fatal mistake of insulting her brother. Boyle said he knew what Michael Eaton was up to and when he found out more he was going to blow the whole story wide. It was going to destroy her career as well as her brother’s. One of the runners on the 10 o’clock news reckons that Boyle always had a soft spot for Rebecca when she first became a correspondent. Some of his friends bet him that he couldn’t get her into bed – he was a very successful womaniser back in his day, Mr. Kane – but Rebecca found out about the bet and publicly humiliated him for it. When she got his job it was the final straw. Now he is out for some sort of revenge.”

  “What about Anna Harker? Did she ask Rebecca what was going on?”

  “Yes, but she didn’t get very far. Rebecca fobbed her off at first, but Anna has a way of persuading people to her give her what she wants. Rebecca eventually told her that Boyle held a grudge and was making stuff up about her brother having to steal money from his private patients to pay gambling debts. Boyle had said that he was getting them to pay for procedures and treatments that hadn’t even been carried out. Anna was worried there was more to it. She didn’t like the way Boyle physically threatened Rebecca. She insisted that Rebecca took out an injunction on him.”

  Kane gave a small incredulous laugh. “And you are complaining about the way I treated him?”

  “No, sorry. I just worry about the bad press, part of the job I am afraid. I don’t want to give Boyle an excuse to bad mouth Rebecca to people in the industry. I couldn’t help thinking there was more to it. I even wondered if Boyle might have been speaking the truth this time by the way she acted. She was so down, withdrawn. I thought she might have confided in me like she normally does, but she didn’t.”

  Charles had slowed to a standstill. He bent his head and stared at the floor. “She told me she could handle e
verything. It was working out and I wasn’t to fuss. Two weeks later she went to South Bundhara and disappeared.”

  “Charles, did you know that Rebecca was planning to go to South Bundhara?” It was a hunch but Kane had a feeling that Charles had known.

  “Yes, yes I did. She told me to tell her brother if she didn’t come back. I begged her not to go. I reminded her about the way the last two journalists who were caught by terrorists were murdered. I was afraid for her, but she didn’t want to listen. She said she had no choice. There was something she needed to find out, needed to expose, and someone she needed to protect. She told me not to worry. As if I wouldn’t... She told me I had to trust her and when she got back she would be able to tell me everything.”

  Kane heard the bitterness in Charles’s words loud and clear. However improbable it sounded, Kane had an uneasy feeling that Rebecca’s run in with Boyle had something to do with her trip to South Bundhara. He told Charles, “I am going to have Boyle followed. I want to know what he has on Rebecca and her brother and whether it has anything to do with her deciding to go to South Bundhara to interview a terrorist.”

  “You really think he has something to do with all of this? I don’t see how.”

  Kane shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just a hunch. It’s the timing of it all. My hunches are usually right and we have to try every angle however much of a long shot it is. Until Rebecca gets her memory back, we are blind.”

  * * * * *

  They neared the end of the corridor of private rooms. The place represented a five star hotel more than it did a hospital. Just like the hospital his sister resided in there was no harsh disinfectant or clinical odour. No claustrophobic white corridor that stretched for miles. Not like the one his selfish mother and stepfather had deposited his sister in after they evicted her from her home and stole the money that Kane’s father had left her. The potted plants, antique lamps and chairs that adorned the small corners on top of the beige carpet gave the place a welcoming homely feel. He was glad Rebecca was in such comfortable surroundings. It made his mind more at ease that she was being cared for in the best sense of the word.