‘Look, don’t worry about it okay? I’ll just tell him that it’s not for you.’ Misty turned on her heel.
‘No, wait.’ Saskia bristled.
She’d danced her arse off tonight purely to show the man that she meant what she had said. She wanted her house back and she would do whatever it took to get it. Yet, still that hadn’t been enough. She knew full well that this was another of Joshua Harper’s tests. He was still pushing her. Seeing how far he could make her go. Well she wasn’t going to let him get the better of her.
‘Tell him that I’ll do it,’ Saskia said, her mind made up. ‘But I’m only dancing. Nothing more than that.’
‘You sure? It’s going to be pretty full-on. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Saskia nodded. Resolute now.
‘Okay, girl, well get here just before nine tomorrow and I’ll talk you through how it all works, okay?’
‘I’ll see you then.’ Saskia nodded. Grabbing her bag, she made for the doors before she changed her mind.
Watching her leave, Misty smiled to herself. She had to hand it to the girl; she didn’t think Saskia had it in her.
Saskia had reminded Misty of herself, back when she had started out. When she’d been younger, more naïve. The days that Misty had happily lapped up every word that Joshua Harper had fed her. Of course, she knew differently now.
Maybe she’d been wrong about Saskia too? As sweet and innocent as Saskia appeared there was more to this girl than met the eye. She’d already proved that much. Tonight, Saskia had been thrown into the lion’s den, and instead of being eaten alive she’d come out fighting, determined not to let anyone get the better of her.
Misty admired that.
She had a feeling that maybe she’d underestimated the girl and would put her money on the fact that she wasn’t the only one to make that mistake.
Joshua Harper was playing games with Saskia that was for sure, but Saskia Frost was giving back as good as she got.
15
Waking with a start, Lena’s eyes were blinded by the harsh daylight. Taking a minute to focus, she looked over to where Ramiz was standing at the side of the boat.
Then she noticed the smell. Pungent, acidic, causing bile to shoot up and burn in the back of her throat.
Disorientated, she stared down at Roza. Her tiny daughter was still tucked in the crook of her arm, eyes staring up at her vacantly. A tiny whimper escaped her mouth.
‘Roza?’ Lena cried. Flinching – noticing the diarrhoea leaking out from the child’s nappy – a trail of the watery excrement was smeared all over the bottom of the boat next to where she lay.
It was even worse than when she had been back at the camp.
‘Ramiz! Roza, she is sick.’
Trying to clean Roza up with the muslin bag, Lena was gripped with fear. If anything happened out here at sea there would be nothing she could do. No way of helping the child.
‘Ramiz?’
He was standing now, over by the side of the boat. Distracted.
Korab was balanced on the side of the boat, one leg hanging over the side, as if he was about to disembark.
‘Ramiz. What are you doing?’
Confused, she noticed the gun that her husband was holding. He must have found it – taken it back without waking her.
He was pointing it directly at Korab’s head.
‘I said, get back on the boat!’ Ramiz shouted.
People were gathering behind him, shouting in agreement. Their faces angry, twisted. Their voices were full of panic as they realised that their skipper was about to abandon the boat, and them, at sea.
‘This is as far as I go,’ speaking with more bravado than he looked capable of, Korab paled as he gripped the top of the ladder. His eyes focused on Ramiz. On the gun. ‘You must wait here until the others come for you. They will collect you in smaller boats and take you to shore. You just need to be patient.’
Ramiz screwed up his face.
‘You never mentioned other boats before? You said we’d be taken to England. That this boat would take us there.’ Ramiz glared now.
Korab shook his head.
‘Point your gun at me all you want, I cannot go any further, Ramiz. We’re out of fuel. You must wait for the men to come… ’
Ramiz stared down to the water below. Moored at the side of the fishing trawler was a motorised red dinghy. Korab was abandoning them.
Looking out into the distance, across the deep murky sea that stretched out for miles around them, Ramiz couldn’t see any other boats. Not smaller boats like the ones that Korab had promised. There was no sign of anyone coming to collect them.
‘And what if your men don’t come?’ Ramiz narrowed his eyes. ‘What if this was your plan all along?’
‘No Ramiz, they are coming. You must wait… ’ Korab protested, but Ramiz could see the fear in Korab’s eyes.
He’d been found out.
‘No one is coming for us, are they?’ Ramiz asked now. His anger building once more as he realised that he’d been used.
Korab and the men he’d worked for had taken their money and they were dumping them at sea. Leaving them to fend for themselves, to suffer whatever consequences came their way. They were just pawns. Bought and sold like merchandise; shipped across the sea purely to line other men’s pockets.
‘You promised us England. You said that your men would help us, that they would meet us. That they could find us homes, jobs? We paid you your fee. What are you going to do? Just leave us here? Abandon us?’
Korab laughed; his voice shaking nervously as he tried to talk himself out of his predicament. Everyone was looking at him now. A crowd of angry faces; harsh, accusing.
‘You really think that for a few thousand euros you would get all that thrown in? What? Some kind of luxury package deal for illegals? I promised you England and you shall have it, my friend.’ Opening his arms exaggeratedly, Korab pointed into the horizon.
Lena followed his gaze, her eyes settling on the chalky white cliffs and lush green foliage of Britain way off in the distance. It was a vision to behold. A vision that they had all up until now only dreamed of. They were almost there; it was close but still so far from their reach.
‘How?’ Ramiz growled. ‘How will we get there if we have no fuel? The men you spoke of are not coming. So tell me what will become of us?’
Ramiz was enraged. Korab knew that he was best to come clean.
‘The authorities will come for you.’ He spoke quietly now. Embarrassed that he’d been caught out. This was the part of the plan he’d been hiding from his friend.
Of course, there were no men coming. Vincent’s men had ensured that the fuel would run out before the boat had made its journey. The boat – and all its occupants – was to be abandoned a few miles out from the coastline.
The authorities would spot them in time. Then they’d be their problem. It was genius really. Only Korab hadn’t realised he’d be on Ramiz’s boat. He thought that, by the time Ramiz had found out his friend had duped him, he’d still be in France, counting his money.
The look on Ramiz’s face told Korab all he needed to know. He was in big trouble.
‘I promise you, Ramiz. It is not like France. In England they are obligated to help you; you will be well looked after. They have a better system there.’ His words drifted off.
‘Get back on the boat,’ Ramiz spat, disgust clear in his voice as Korab’s legs dangled over the side of the boat, looking ready to climb down.
‘Ramiz, you must do as I ask you and wait. It is the only way,’ Korab pleaded.
The atmosphere on deck was becoming increasingly charged.
Other people behind them were starting to question what was going on too.
One man, overhearing the conversation, began muttering loudly.
‘He’s abandoning ship. He’s leaving us.’
The rumour spread quickly throughout the crowded deck; panic erupting then amongst the rest of the passengers.
Surrounding
Korab, they closed in around him. All shouting above each other to be heard. Asking what was going to happen. Who was going to come for them?
Ramiz lost his patience.
Holding his gun high above his head he pointed it up towards the sky and fired.
There was silence, followed quickly by widespread panic as people started shouting and crying.
‘You need to stay calm and wait for the authorities. They will come. The authorities will come,’ Korab shouted now.
The situation was getting out of control.
‘We’re all going to die,’ the elderly man that had overheard the conversation shouted to the crowd. ‘He’s going leave us here and we are all going to die. He’s going to save himself.’
He rooted inside the bag he was holding, releasing what looked like a long red candle, striking the end. A distress flare. Extending his arm in the air, the vibrant orange flame hissed loudly, burning rapidly.
‘Move out of my way!’
Waving the flame towards Korab and Ramiz, the man made his intentions clear. He was heading for the side of the boat now – brandishing the dazzling plume of fire towards Korab like a weapon as he tried to make his own bid for freedom while he still had a chance.
He wanted the motor boat.
‘Move now!’
Jabbing the flare in Ramiz’s direction, the man lurched forward.
Ramiz moved out of his way.
Biding his time, he watched as the man clambered up onto the side of the boat. There was a second’s hesitation as he looked down to where the smaller boat bobbed in the water.
That was all Ramiz needed.
A gunshot exploded, suddenly silencing the chaos.
The elderly man fell lifelessly onto the deck, a pool of thick dark blood pouring from the exposed bullet hole in the side of his head.
Lena let out a harrowing scream.
The man lay there lifeless, eyes still open, his expression pained.
‘If anyone else moves I will shoot you too,’ Ramiz bellowed, his hand still gripping the gun. A crazed look in his eyes.
He turned back to Korab.
‘Especially you!’ Ramiz aimed the gun directly at Korab’s head, before shouting to his wife. ‘Lena! Get over here now.’
Scrambling onto her knees, Lena quickly got up. Clutching Roza tightly, she did as she was told.
No one else moved; no one else spoke.
The only noise that punctured the deathly silence on board was the rush of the waves breaking against the side of the boat. That, and the incessant squawking seagulls overhead, alarmed by the gunshot.
‘Climb down to the boat,’ Ramiz instructed his wife. Turning he waved his gun in the direction of the people behind him, making sure that no one would be foolish enough to try and stop him.
Lena leant over the side. Looking down to the motorised rubber boat bouncing about in the water, a foot or so away from the bottom of the ladder, she felt sick with fear.
She was terrified of falling into the sea. Into the pitch-black pool of nothingness.
‘You need to move quickly, Lena,’ Ramiz commanded.
Behind them on deck a small fire had started from the discarded flare, still held in the dead man’s hand. The flames had set light to his shirt. Lena could smell burning flesh.
The blaze had already reached some bags on the deck nearby. It was spreading rapidly now.
Lena eyed the other passengers, guilt flooding her as they all stood there watching her. All too scared to move, too scared to speak.
‘What about Roza?’
‘Give me your bag.’
Realising that Ramiz wanted to put Roza inside her bag, that he would probably tip out its contents – that her secret would be found – Lena acted fast.
Squatting down on the deck, she removed the blankets from the bag. Wrapping them around her daughter, she placed Roza inside.
There was just enough room. Turning, she allowed Ramiz to place the straps across each of her shoulders. The bag firmly on her back now.
‘Move.’
Lena did as she was told.
Swinging her legs over the side, to the ladder, she turned, keeping her focus on Ramiz. Her legs were trembling. Her heart pounding inside her chest. She took one rung of the ladder at a time. The bag was heavy, pulling at her shoulders, tilting her off balance. Inside, she could hear Roza whimpering. The noise heart-wrenching.
Above she could hear Ramiz talking to Korab; pointing the gun away from her now, back to him.
‘You too, move.’
Korab looked shocked.
He had thought that Ramiz was going to leave him here on the boat. To teach him a lesson.
‘One wrong move and I’ll kill you.’ Ramiz could see the shock in Korab’s eyes. The man thought he was being spared. That Ramiz was taking pity on him.
He’d forgotten that he’d mentioned having a cousin in London.
Luckily for Korab he still had his uses.
For now.
Looking down at Lena, Ramiz was starting to lose his patience.
The fire was spreading. Heavy plumes of smoke filled the sky. Some of the men on board had stepped forward, desperately trying to stamp out the inferno, but it was useless. The fire was already out of control.
‘Hurry up, Lena!’
Clambering down the final few rungs, Lena could hear the noise above her.
People were screaming. Terrified.
Standing at the end of the ladder, she froze – rigid with fear as she looked down into the pool of darkest water. She’d have to jump to reach the boat but she couldn’t do it.
She was too scared.
‘Lena! Move!’
Looking up, Korab was scampering down the ladder towards her. If she didn’t move, he’d knock her out of his way.
Leaping into the boat, she landed with a thump. Collapsing in a heap then, she realised she was crying.
She barely had time to unzip the bag and check on Roza when Korab pounced into the boat too. The force of him almost catapulted her and Roza out from the boat and into the black gloomy sea.
Screaming, Lena gripped the boat’s edge with all her might. Her body on top of the bag. Her arms shielding Roza.
Ramiz was scrambling down the ladder towards them too.
Fast on his feet, others were following suit.
A stampede of people now clambered down behind Ramiz in a desperate bid to get on the motor boat.
‘Hurry,’ Ramiz shouted to Korab. ‘Start the engine.’
Lena watched, horrified, as Korab scampered down the final two rungs.
‘Move, Lena.’
Scurrying to the side of the dingy, Lena did as she was told, recognising the urgency in her husband’s voice as he too made a jump for the boat.
Above her, chaos erupted.
Starting the motor, Korab untied the rope.
‘Please. Take him. Please.’
A woman screamed above them, dangling her child directly over them.
The boy couldn’t have been more than two years old. Kicking his legs frantically as his mother held him over the water, he looked terrified. Screaming in fear.
‘Please, take him. Don’t let him die. Don’t let my baby die,’ the woman shrieked.
‘There is room, Ramiz?’ Lena pleaded.
Korab looked at him too. Filled with unease.
They couldn’t just heartlessly leave everyone.
‘The boat can hold ten people. Maybe more if we take some of the children?’ Korab asked now.
Ramiz shook his head.
‘If we take one, they’ll all want to come. We’ll be ambushed. We need to leave now.’
‘But they won’t make it,’ Korab said.
‘Someone will come. Someone will see the smoke. We need to leave, now.’
‘The child Ramiz… can’t we at least take him?’
Hearing the mother still screaming, Lena looked up towards the boat. The smoke behind her was building dramatically. Their fate now sealed.
>
Her words were barely out of her mouth when a body plummeted into the water next to the smaller boat.
A man leapt out of the water, grabbing at Korab’s arm. Desperately dragging at his shirt, he tried to hoist himself into the motor boat, almost pulling Korab overboard.
Ramiz fired, the shot ringing out loudly across the vast ocean.
The man slipped, the water next to him turning a deep red as the man’s body floated lifelessly to the surface.
This time Lena didn’t scream. She couldn’t. Ramiz was right. They needed to get out of here now or they would be in danger themselves.
Pushing at the motor boat’s throttle, Korab accelerated the boat, soaring in the direction of the cretaceous cliffs of England at great speed.
Lena looked back, unable to tear her eyes away from the harrowing scenes as they sped away, her eyes remaining focused on the distraught mother and child.
The howling noise that came from the woman’s mouth was no longer human. She sounded like a wounded animal.
The boat was getting smaller now, as the distance between them increased.
Lena could still just about make out the flames licking the side of the doomed fishing boat; she could still just about hear the terrified screams and shouts of the people they were leaving behind.
She watched the silhouette of the woman holding the child.
Watched as they jumped into the water in a desperate bid to escape the rapidly building inferno.
All that Lena could see now was a steady stream of thick smoke billowing in a black haze out across the horizon, far out in the distance.
Hugging Roza tightly to her, Lena couldn’t shake the guilt that consumed her: the haunting thought that it could have been her left on that boat.
That little boy could have been Roza. They had been selfish to leave them, to not at least try to save some of them.
Lena bowed her head in shame. She’d allowed them to die.
Her only consolation was that Roza was safe. Soon they would be in England.
16
‘The King’s Arms? It’s not exactly the jewel in London’s crown is it?’ Ramiz sneered as Korab returned from the bar with his cousin Kush, placing three drinks down on the table.
The Taken Page 11
