by Serena James
“No. We don’t need his help. I will handle Pravat.”
Michael turned around in his chair. He had obviously been listening to their conversation. “I won’t have the police protect Rebecca. They aren’t fit to. They let that man just walk in here. They said he’d told them he was hospital staff. They never questioned him. He had a knife to her throat when she came back from theatre. If I hadn’t come in and disturbed him... she could have been murdered.”
Kane stood up and approached him. He held up his hand. “Relax, Michael. We will make sure she is safe now. Just trust me.”
Michael frowned at snapped at him. “I don’t have a bloody choice do I?”
Kane told him flatly. “No you don’t. Why don’t you go and get yourself a drink, something to eat, and relax.”
Michael appeared to ignore him. He turned back around in his chair again to face Rebecca. “No. I am not leaving Rebecca on her own.”
Kane persisted. He wanted Michael under control. “Michael, you look as though you haven’t slept properly for days and I am guessing you haven’t been eating well. You look tired and I need you alert.”
Michael ignored him once more. Kane turned back to Tom frustrated. He spoke in a whisper, “Tom, get Ramsay up here. I want him assigned to Michael.” Tom would know exactly why he’d chosen Ramsay to shadow Michael. He was in his late thirties, not much older than Michael and was great at dealing with difficult clients. Tom nodded and stood. “And when Brendan is finished I want him to follow a journalist called Kevin Boyle who is hanging around outside. I have already had a run in with him and he is a threat to Rebecca. I will fill him in.”
Tom nodded. Before he left he whispered in Kane’s ear, “Give Michael something to do. He feels helpless just like you did when your stepfather hospitalised your sister. You remember that feeling? How mad you were when you found out? Give him a purpose, a task so he feels he is in control. Then he might stop acting up.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Kane studied Michael closely for a moment as Tom slipped out of the door. An idea crystallised in his mind. “Michael I need you to oversee Rebecca’s medical treatment. We can’t afford to trust anyone and that includes the medical staff. You are the one with all the medical knowledge here and you will know what staff is needed and who isn’t. You will be able to spot a fraud a mile away. Michael, I need your help. This is important to your sister’s protection. I need you to take a break so you can be alert.”
Michael slowly turned his head and looked up at him from his chair. He wore a blank expression but Kane knew he was thinking about it. Then he said, “I can’t leave her, she is so fragile like this. I am not used to Rebecca being this way. She is the strong one. She is the one always so in control. I can’t let her down. Not this time.”
Kane felt a generous amount of sympathy with Michael’s words. He didn’t want to let her down this time either. He told Michael, gently, “I know you are afraid for Rebecca but the best you can do for her right now is to care of yourself. If you are going to be involved I need you to get some food and rest. Besides you know Rebecca wouldn’t want you to just sit here and fuss over her.”
“Yeah, well she needs me to. Whether she likes it or not. Sometimes she needs me to watch over her, not the other way round all of the time.” Michael was silent once more then Kane saw him scrape his hand around his jaw. There was a knock at the door and Tom and Ramsay entered. Michael looked at the men with suspicion and then his features relaxed with resignation.
Michael told Kane, “Okay, okay I can see you are taking over here. I will go. I could do with a shave as well.” Kane nodded at him relieved. “But I won’t be long.”
* * * * *
To Kane, Pravat was a large, unfit man. His stomach hung out before him in the tight brown uniform that appeared almost military. But his weather worn face seemed approachable and friendly. His crinkled smile told Kane they could do business. He looked across at the man in the small hospital consulting room and leant his elbow on the table between them.
“So you understand my dilemma, Inspector. I need to be able to control the whole operation.”
“Yes, yes I do, Mr. Kane. But you have to understand my concern. I can’t just let anyone take over. The British Embassy is insisting that I stay in charge of Rebecca Eaton’s security.”
Kane moved his watch around his wrist as he listened to Pravat. It was a habit. He noticed Pravat was suddenly staring at it. There was a young boyish glint in his fading grey eyes. Kane felt his second surge of triumph that day. Got you.
Kane played the game of temptation a little further. The man wanted his watch. He’d verbally admired it earlier and had known the make instantly. Now the Inspector was being difficult, Kane employed the carrot and stick method. Pravat gave him another smile. Only this time it told Kane that Pravat was aware of the rules of the game and he had the go ahead to offer the watch as a bribe. Kane kept rolling it around his wrist, letting the steel reflect brightly in the harsh white electric light above them. Pravat stared at it, almost mesmerised like a child.
Kane said with a smile, “But I am not anyone. I am the right man for the job and you know that. Maybe I could suggest an incentive, a gesture of goodwill to persuade you of my integrity and gain your trust. I am aware that is the custom.” Kane reached for his wallet, pretending that he hadn’t noticed the man’s interest in his watch. He made sure that it was clearly displayed as he pulled out his wallet from his inside pocket. He swore he could almost see the man’s mouth water as he reeled him in. His wallet was half out of his suit jacket when the man shook his head gravely at him.
“I am an honest man, Mr. Kane. There are members of our police force who actually are, despite what the papers and the television say about us.” He held up his hand and smiled as Kane paused in taking out his wallet. “But I am not adverse to accepting gifts for help given. Your watch for instance. That could be considered a gift.”
Kane put his wallet back and grinned. He held up his wrist with the watch on and looked at it closely with appreciation. “This was a present from a client.” He lifted his eyes towards Pravat and narrowed them a fraction. The smile on Pravat’s face retreated. He told the man quietly, “This watch is worth a lot of money, thousands of pounds. It is more than an incentive. If I gave it to you I would expect to be allowed complete control of Ms Eaton’s security. I would also want you to run interference with the British Embassy and the British Security Services.”
Pravat made the mistake of interrupting him, “I can of course...”
Kane continued in a low flat voice, “I haven’t finished. The Security Services can be quite persuasive and I would expect you to firmly control the situation and back me up. I will also expect to be able to call on you in a crisis and be given whatever manpower I need to get Ms Eaton safely out of the country. I expect value for money Inspector. If you let me down I will come to retrieve my watch. I am not a man to be crossed.”
Kane knew he had been taken seriously by the coldness that now crowded Pravat’s eyes. He loosened the watch on his wrist and held it out to the man. Pravat’s grubby hands quickly took it from him. Kane watched him slip it straight onto his own wrist. He looked down at it with appreciation. The coldness in his expression had left and he was gleeful. Kane bent his head hoping it would do the trick and prepared to leave the room. Pravat stopped him short.
“I gather this Rebecca Eaton is more than a client to you, Mr. Kane.”
He looked back at Pravat startled by his words. He didn’t reply. The man gave him a sickly smile; his eyes were bright with cruel amusement. Cheap shot, Inspector.
Pravat spoke gently. His expression turned sympathetic. “I can tell by your reaction and the way you so easily gave up this priceless watch that she is. Don’t look so worried; your secret is safe with me. Do whatever you need to do. I have a feeling that Rebecca Eaton is as important to my country as she is to your own. I believe she may hold the key to a peaceful resolution to
our conflict with South Bundhara in that lost memory of hers. She is a brave woman, Mr. Kane. It is not hard to see why a man like yourself would be attracted to her. I wish you luck.”
Kane nodded respectfully, “Thank you.”
The Inspector continued, “I will do as you ask. If you need my help, just call.” Kane couldn’t help but smile as he watched Pravat turn the watch around on his wrist and admire it again as he stood up. He told Kane, “It has been a pleasure doing business with you. Maybe we can do so again sometime.”
Chapter Eight
Three Days later – 12:31 a.m.
Rebecca found herself running. She was clutching something close to her chest. It wasn’t a heavy object but it was an awkward rectangular shape. It was a laptop. There was a man with her and a teenage boy. The boy was carrying a machine gun. She was exhausted, but her fear was stronger, spurring her movement on. She heard loud popping noises going off behind her. It was gunfire, loud and sporadic. She couldn’t help but look around and stare death in the face.
Two Land Rovers followed them as they ran around the edge of a rice field. The man next to her was shouting at her to hurry up and was grabbing at her arm to pull her on. Something ricocheted past her ear. The bullet was so close, it almost nicked her. She heard the man cry out as a bullet sliced through his arm drawing blood. He started to slow his movement groaning with pain. She reached out and caught the front of his tee shirt pulling him along with her. She was afraid for him. She screamed at the boy, “How much further is it?”
“It’s over there, look. Hurry.”
She kept pulling the man as they rounded the edge of the field and headed towards a small cluster of houses nestled between the hilly terrain. They made it under the cover of some acacia trees. Their brutal thorns scraped across her shirt and through to her skin. It stung. For a moment the bullets stopped coming. The boy leading the way turned to her and pointed in front of them. “There it is.”
Rebecca looked at the dusty truck and hoped it would start. “Give me the keys and help Jed get in.” She left the care of the man called Jed to the boy and ran towards the truck, ducking to evade fresh bullets. The door was already opened. She got into the truck and dropped the laptop on the floor. She fumbled with the keys trying to get them into the ignition. She could see the Land Rovers approaching at speed again. She screamed out loud with angry frustration, “Come on, come on.” As though on cue the engine sprang into life. The teenage boy helped Jed get in the back and jumped into the front beside her. She drove off in the direction of the border.
“Shit, Becks, do you think we are going to make it this time?” Jed asked.
“Have I ever let you down before? Now shut up and let me drive.” She told the boy, “Tie something around his arm to stop the bleeding.” She tried to ignore the creeping realisation that she was sure that this time they really weren’t going to make it. Her legs were shaking like pneumatic drills with adrenaline. She forced herself to concentrate and put her foot down hard on the accelerator.
One of the Land Rovers came up along her side and made to press into the vehicle. She swerved to avoid it. It still kept coming. The other one appeared on her left hand side. She had nowhere to go. She picked up speed and when the others matched it she slammed the brakes on hard. Not expecting the action, the Land Rovers kept going. She swerved the truck to a ninety-degree angle stop and then turned it to go off road. It gave them a start, a chance.
The ride was bumpy, through a ploughed field, almost throwing her out of her seat at times. Jed cried out with pain on every jolt. She’d managed to put some distance between her truck and the others but she hadn’t anticipated another one coming out of nowhere and driving into her from behind. It hit them hard, twice. On the third strike it pushed the truck head first into one of the trees she was trying to avoid at the end of the field. She put her hands up to shield herself from the impact. Everything went black.
When she came round she could smell petrol. Steam was rising from the truck’s crumpled front. There was blood dripping from her forehead and her eyesight was blurry. Her immediate thought was for Jed. She turned quickly. He was groaning in pain but he was OK. The boy was fine. She looked out at the soldiers running towards them and made a decision. She picked up the laptop and thrust it into the boy’s hands. “Take it, keep it safe. Come and find me. I know you can make it out of here. Guard it with your life. Many lives are depending on what is on it.”
The boy nodded. She felt him rest his hand on her arm. “Good luck.” She watched him jump from the truck and make a run for the woods. She heard a couple of bullets being fired and voices as they chased after him but as far as she could make out he’d got away. Her thoughts were broken when a male hand reached into the car and harshly yanked her out of the vehicle. She hit the ground face first. He grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her up. He dragged her around to the rear of the vehicle and pushed her down on her knees next to Jed.
The soldier demanded in broken English, “Where is the boy going? Where is the computer?” She glanced at Jed. They both stayed quiet. The look between them conveyed their agreement to a pact of silence. Even if it cost their lives. Too much was at stake. Rebecca stared up defiantly at the soldier asking the questions, wondering if this was where she would finally meet her death. Part of her wanted to scream, part of her felt strangely relieved.
The soldier barked an order to his two subordinates who stood one at each side pointing semi- automatics at their heads. Another soldier appeared from one of the Land Rovers. He was carrying a large sword and a blindfold. Rebecca felt her blood drain cold. She looked at Jed in desperation. He shook his head violently at her not to say anything as the soldiers moved round to take his arms and splay them out behind him, forcing his bent head forward. Jed cried out in pain with the movement forced upon his injured arm.
Rebecca felt vomit rise in her throat. She said hurriedly, “I don’t know where it is. I don’t. The boy stole it. He ran away. It’s me you want. I am the one who talked to Somwan. I know what your government is doing. Kill me instead.”
Jed screamed at them, “Don’t touch her. Rebecca, don’t tell them anything.”
The soldier standing in front of her snapped, “Your last chance to save your friend Miss Eaton...”
She screamed, “Please I don’t know. I am not lying to you. It’s me you want. My death is worth more to you. Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt him.”
The soldier carrying the sword blindfolded Jed and then lowered the blade to his neck. She’d heard about this. In both North and South Bundhara the sword was an ancient symbol of power in the country’s history. Whoever possessed the sword metaphorically could command the people’s respect and obedience. The Southern Bundenese army were often reported carrying one to frighten the local uneducated people into compliance. But there had also been reports of them beheading dissenters.
She continued pleading for Jed’s life. “You can’t do this. My people, they will be looking for us. If you kill us, the British government won’t tolerate it.”
The soldier laughed callously. “They didn’t exactly complain when the last two western journalists were beheaded by terrorists when they wandered uninvited into our country. Now where is the computer?”
She tried to move when the blade was raised high above Jed’s neck. He was crying now. She tried to get to him but the soldier hit her hard across the face with the butt of his gun. She felt herself fight to keep her consciousness through her own sobs. “I’ve told you I don’t know. Please...”
Jed told her hurriedly as he breathed hard in gasps, moving his head from side to side, “Don’t tell them anything, Rebecca. I am relying on you to get these bastards and tell the whole world what is going on. I love you and I always have. Don’t worry I...”
The soldier brought the blade down hard. Jed’s horrific screams sounded childlike as the blow cut him sideways across his ear. His head lolled to the side. The soldier raised the sword again and s
truck once more. Rebecca found she couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream. She was struck dumb with terror. The soldier still hadn’t severed Jed’s spinal cord and was getting frustrated that he couldn’t get it right. She heard him mumble something in Bundenese about the blade being blunt. The blood was streaming down Jed’s body. Finally, Jed lost consciousness. She hoped he was dead. One more blow ensued and the head came off.
Blood spurted from his open neck covering her. His head rolled across the ground and came to rest at her knees. She swayed with shock and the effects of the blow to her face. She could have sworn he was still alive. His eyes seemed to roll at her. She’d heard the reports of facial movements after decapitation, the belief that for a few seconds the person lived without a body. She suddenly realised she was sitting in a pool of his blood. Her mouth was open and she was screaming.
Rebecca sat up in her hospital bed screaming. It was a loud guttural scream that came from deep inside echoing her anger and frustration. Slowly, her surroundings came back into view. Her heart was pounding and that damn heart monitor was making it audible. There were two men standing with guns at the bottom of her bed, poised ready for action. Another man stood at the side of the bed holding her shoulders. His face came into view as he sat on the bed next to her.
The man told her very softly, “Rebecca you were dreaming. You are safe. Try to relax.” He gestured to the men to leave and they obeyed without question. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking. The man plumped up her pillows and guided her back onto them. He asked, “Is there anything I can get you? Do you need a nurse?”
