by Derek Fee
He picked up the car phone, removed the room card for the Carlton from his jeans pocket and dialled the number of the hotel.
Chapter Fifty
Kane didn’t have to dwell on the fact that neither Morweena nor Doc were answering and that David and Tom hadn’t seen them since earlier the previous day. In a situation like this, he had learned to always think the worst. Which meant that Safardi had got his hands on them. It wasn’t worth expending mental energy on working out how. He needed to get back to Marbella as quickly as possible. He left Rianxo and travelled on the winding narrow coastal road inland towards the township of Padrón. It was imperative for him to hit the motorway as soon as possible. Then he would have to rest. It was twenty-four hours since he had last laid his head on a pillow and although he felt he could keep going for a few more hours, he knew that he would be more use to Morweena and Doc operating at his full strength. He had survived. Jaime had been consigned to the Atlantic Ocean and Safardi’s guards were sitting on the quay. On the upside, he was certain that Safardi would agree to exchange the cocaine for his prisoners and they would be free to go their separate ways. But on the downside, if Safardi decided to double-cross him, then the odds would favour the Arab. He had no illusions about the gravity of their situation. He thought of Morweena and remembered the scene in the glade in the Doñana. If Safardi harmed her, then he would ensure that a Colombian necktie would be the least of the Arab’s problems. He tried to banish the thoughts of the future from his mind and concentrate on getting himself into striking distance of Safardi as quickly as possible.
The BMW sped through the village of Padrón heading directly south over what passes for a main road in one of Spain’s most underdeveloped provinces. His next goal was the city of Vigo and rest.
Safardi was awakened at six o’clock with the news that Kane had disappeared with his cocaine. Jaime hadn’t returned from the collection which meant that Kane had somehow overcome the Columbian and disposed of him. It was unthinkable but the only conclusion consistent with Jaime’s failure to appear. Kane had overcome the other two men and they were currently stuck in Rianxo. They would pay dearly for their incompetence. He had been thinking quite a lot about Kane in the last twenty-four hours. The man gave him a bad feeling and the sooner he was out of the way the better. Safardi had been looking forward to watching Pedro take his pleasure with Morweena and then killing her slowly but he must remain calm. All was not lost. Morweena Penhalion was his trump card. He would have to keep her safe until the cocaine was recovered. Then all bets would be off. He walked to the window and watched the early morning sun wash the expensive pueblos with light. One hundred and fifty kilos of pure cocaine; his men would cut and re-cut the coke producing one thousand kilos or more of product to be marketed on the streets of Madrid, Paris, Amsterdam and London. His buyers were already screaming for their supply. It would not be wise to disappoint them.
Kane stopped at the first layby he sighted on the road between Vigo and Ourense and slept. The telephone in the car rang at eight o’clock and he woke immediately.
“Kane?” Safardi’s perfect English accent came over the phone.
“Surprised?” Kane said.
“Actually, I am. My men tell me that Jaime didn’t return to Rianxo with you.”
“The sharks had him for breakfast. I think it was a fitting end.”
“And my cocaine?”
“In the boot of the BMW.”
“You really are quite resourceful.”
Kane ignored the compliment. “You have Morweena and Doc?”
“Only Morweena, how did you know?”
“She’s missing from Cannes. It was a fair assumption that you had somehow taken her.”
“She’s safe for the moment but her continued safety is dependent on you. I want my cocaine.”
“I’ll accept a trade for Morweena.”
“Exactly what I had in mind. Come back to Marbella and we’ll make the trade.”
“Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly. I don’t think so.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Pedro has taken a liking to Morweena. I don’t think you should spend too long thinking. If you double-cross me, I guarantee I will have your woman’s skin flayed.”
“I’ll let you know about the exchange.” Kane broke the line.
He turned the ignition on and continued south. His left hand ached from the gash which the gaff had made in his thumb. He did some scenario planning as he drove. The objective had changed from exposing the drug runners to saving Morweena. A prudent man would call Davenport and let him deal with the problem. But Davenport didn’t know Morweena or love her. He had no skin in the game. An assault on Safardi’s heavily fortified villa might lead to her death and he wasn’t having that. It was stupid to think that Safardi would trade Morweena for the cocaine and allow them to walk away. He would have to come up with a plan that gave them at least a chance of getting out alive. Davenport would have to be there somewhere but his appearance would have to be choreographed. He switched on the satnav and put his route in. If he pushed it, he would arrive in the south of Spain in nine hours. He made straight for the motorway system and the Portuguese city of Porto.
Chapter Fifty-One
Morweena was still trying to digest the story. Mark was an undercover police officer working for the Metropolitan Police. Tom Bell wasn’t his uncle and their whole involvement with Penhalion Marine was a sham. They’d used Morweena and her dad to flush out those responsible for drug-running and killing Tom’s daughter. She felt for Tom but she was hurt by the way they had used her and her family. She supposed that now they had discovered that Barrett and Safardi were responsible that would be the end of Tom’s interest in supporting their powerboat venture. That would spell the end of Penhalion Marine. That saddened her but she was devastated by the way that he had wheedled his way into her affections. She’d told him that she loved him and he had betrayed her. Her involvement with Mark had led to her being incarcerated in a villa that was awash with armed guards. Escape was out of the question.
Morweena turned when she heard the key turn in the door.
“Ah, Morweena.” Safardi smiled. “I do hope you can join us for lunch.”
“I’d prefer not to. How long do you intend to keep me here? Mark will be here this evening with your drugs. You can let us go then.”
“Yes, that was my intention. However, there has been a change of plan,”
“A change of plan?” Morweena said apprehensively. Her heart began to beat quicker.
“Just so.”
She felt her legs go weak but forced herself to remain standing. If Mark failed to deliver the drugs, she would be worthless to Safardi. She knew she was dead and the only things she regretted leaving behind were her parents and that ass, Mark Kane.
“What change of plan?” she interjected into the pregnant pause left by Safardi.
“It appears that your lover has managed, how I do not yet know, to dispense with Jaime and to overpower the other two men I sent with them. He has taken my drugs and is currently making his way towards us so that I may take possession of what is rightfully mine. In exchange for you, of course.”
Morweena permitted a wide smile to spread across her full lips. Good old Mark Kane, she thought. He might yet prove a lifesaver for her although Safardi was not to be underestimated.
Safardi brushed an imaginary piece of dust from his perfectly white garment. “I think it is important that you and I stay close to each other this evening lest we receive an unannounced visit from Kane. Pedro is already preparing for such a visit. While the whereabouts of his friend is still unknown, my tame Colombian is in a state of great nervousness and I suggest that you stay well clear of him. Therefore, much as I abhor eating in the company of females, I think on this occasion it would be mutually beneficial if we lunched together. Also, there is somebody that I want you to meet. After you, please.”
&nb
sp; Morweena walked slowly to the door of her room savouring the Arab’s discomfort. Mark had overcome his men and had succeeded in taking his precious cocaine. Now the boot was on the other foot. She followed Safardi through the villa to one of the verandas where a table had been set for lunch. Barrett was seated at the table and was accompanied by a large black man.
“Let me introduce you to one of my biggest English customers.” Safardi pulled back a chair for Morweena. “This is Veeral Hackett. He and you have an acquaintance in common. Veeral has been searching for Mr Kane for some time. He only recently learned his real name and it is a great coincidence that he was in Spain. He is overjoyed at the prospect of meeting Mr Kane again.”
Morweena stared into Hackett’s face. She recognised a level of cruelty. The only way they could escape was if Mark killed these men and their accomplices. She looked at the two guards at either end of the room. There was a general sense of alertness about them that she hadn’t noticed before. They were prepared for something to happen. Safardi and Pedro had put the villa on a war footing. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the telephone’s bell resounding in the marble hallway. The diners sat looking at each other while Hasan went to pick up the handset.
The servant entered the dining room and shot out a stream of rapid Arabic at his master. Morweena thought she heard the word Kane in the middle of the stream.
“There now,” Safardi said, rising from the table and tossing his napkin onto his plate. “It’s as I told you, Veeral. You can always depend on the English to be true to form. Kane is on the telephone.” Safardi pulled back Morweena’s chair. “Please come with me.”
Hackett’s eyes followed Safardi and Morweena as they left the room.
They went into the hall and Safardi picked up the telephone receiver.
“Mr Kane, how nice of you to call. I’ve been expecting to hear from you.”
“I’ll bet you have.” Kane had waited until his arrival in Badajoz before contacting Safardi.
“First things first,” Safardi kept his voice calm. “You still have my merchandise.”
“It’s still where it was. I start giving out free samples only if we can’t come to an agreement. Please put Morweena on the line.”
“He wishes to speak to you,” Safardi passed over the handset reluctantly. “Please be careful what you say.”
“Mark, thank God you’re all right,” Morweena gushed as soon as she put the phone to her mouth. “I know everything.”
“Are you okay?” There was a catch in his voice. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine, especially now that I know that you’re safe. Someone that knows you is here: Veeral Hackett.”
“Enough.” Safardi pulled the handset from Morweena’s fingers. “As you see, Mr Kane, your friend has not been harmed. Neither was it my intention to harm either of you.”
“Perhaps you should have made your intentions plainer to your employees. I got the impression that Jaime had something else in mind for me.”
“When can I expect delivery?”
“Later this evening.”
“Where?”
“I’ll let you know closer to the time.”
“Please don’t think of double-crossing me. It could be bad for Miss Penhalion.”
“That advice cuts both ways. Let me speak to Morweena again.”
“No.”
“Bastard,” Kane said through clenched teeth.
Safardi smiled and put down the phone. He turned to Morweena. “That was excellent.”
“Good news I hope,” Hackett said from the doorway of the dining room.
“The best. Our merchandise is perfectly safe and he wants to exchange it for his lady friend tonight.”
“Perfect, mon.” Hackett raised his glass in a toast. “We goin’ to have some fun.”
“Hasan.” The servant materialised instantly at the sound of his master’s voice. “Find Pedro and send him to my private quarters. Then escort Miss Penhalion back to her room.” He stalked off towards his rooms. “Veeral, please come with me. There are preparations to be made.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
As soon as Safardi cut the call, Kane called Davenport’s number in London.
“Don’t talk just listen,” Kane said as soon as the phone was answered. “Barrett and Safardi are the drug runners. Safardi hired me to do the last run off the west coast of Spain. I’ve got rid of the men who were guarding me and I have more than a hundred kilos in the boot of the car I’m travelling in. Safardi has Morweena Penhalion and Doc has disappeared. They must have stashed him somewhere but he’s not with Safardi. I’ve set up a meeting with Safardi for tonight to exchange the drugs for Morweena. I still haven’t made up my mind where but there’s a place in the Coto Doñana. I want you there as soon as you can.”
“You have to delay. We need time to plan a proper operation. I’m not going off half-cocked into an area we haven’t reconnoitred. You’re putting other lives at risk I know you don’t value your own life but think of my team? How many men does Safardi have? How are they armed? Even if we scramble now, we’ll never make the south of Spain by tonight.”
“Too late. It’s set for nine. Count on ten men, small arms only. Safardi is only expecting me. And to add some spice to the encounter, Veeral Hackett is at Safardi’s villa.”
“He skipped bail and has been looking for you since. Where are you now?”
“On the road between Badajoz and Seville.
“Where the hell is this Coto Doñana?”
“Get yourself a detailed map of the area to the west of Marbella. South of Seville there’s a sort of national park called the Doñana. It straddles the delta of the Guadalquivir River.” He tried to play back the journey they had taken three days previously. “About twenty kilometres south of Seville you come to a sign for a village called Los Palacios y Villafranca. The road is narrow and bumpy. Two kilometres further along you’ll see a track heading into flat swampland. After that you pass a sign for Las Marismas, three kilometres further on, look out on your right side for a copse of pine trees overhanging a swampy pool.”
“This is crazy. You’ll get yourself and Miss Penhalion killed.”
“No foolishness. Only calculated risks.” Kane closed the call. The phone rang immediately but he ignored it.
Outside Seville, Kane called Safardi. “I’ve made up my mind as to the place for the exchange.”
“Excellent,” Safardi said. Where shall we meet?”
“You remember the destination of our little excursion yesterday?”
Safardi smiled. “Of course,” he said. The Doñana was the perfect place.
“At the pine glade at eight o’clock tonight.”
“Are you sure you can remember your way there?”
“Yes. It made an indelible impression on my mind.”
“Until tonight then. In the interim, I suggest you take good care of my merchandise.”
Kane cut the call.
Safardi and Hackett, they were quite a pair. It looked like his past was rushing to find his future.
Chapter Fifty-Three
The light was fading as the powerful headlights of the BMW picked out the sign for Los Palacios y Villafranca and Kane swung the car off the highway and onto the secondary road which led into the Doñana. The potholes littering the road proved a severe test for the suspension of the saloon car which bounced from side to side along the narrow, rutted track. The beams of the headlights picked out the sign for the Marismas as the car ground in first gear towards the point where the barred gate led into the restricted area containing the glade where the exchange would take place.
Kane pulled up before the gate with the headlights illuminating the two high sections of meshed iron, joined in the centre by a thick padlocked chain. The night was full of the sounds of the creatures of the Doñana. The chirping of the crickets vied with the screaming of birds to create a primeval cacophony of sound reminiscent of the jungle.
The chain which held the gate
s was old and rusted but nevertheless presented a formidable obstruction. Kane shot the lock and it disintegrated. He turned in the direction of a noise beyond the fence in time to see the antlers of a deer disappearing into the foliage. He was getting damn jumpy. He opened the links and unwound the chain. As soon as he was beyond the gate, he returned and rewound the chain around the two gate posts. Clusters of mosquitoes buzzed around him as he closed the gap. The insects were attracted to his sweat as he endeavoured to close the fracture as fully as possible. When the two edges of the fracture were touching, Kane bent and picked up a pinch of the dry brown soil. He spat on the earth and turned it into a paste before spreading it into what remained of the fissure in the metal link. Safardi’s men would not notice that he had already passed through and surprise might be the only ally he would have against them. He returned to the car and continued to grind his way forward, the headlights the only illumination in an otherwise darkening night. The beams of light lit up the dark shape of a tree, birds’ nests hanging in the upper branches. He peered through the dark searching for the glade which had been the scene of the execution. Was it only yesterday that he had been here? In the meantime, he had travelled the length of Spain twice and picked up ten million dollars of cocaine. Not a bad day’s work. The car crawled forward bumping over the rutted track. It lurched as he hit a dry bank at the side of the track. The beams of the headlights swung crazily through the foliage illuminating for a split second a lynx holding its prey, a dead rabbit, in its mouth. The lynx disappeared back into the undergrowth as he wrestled with the wheel and the beams of light swung right, casting their light on the glade he had been seeking. He stopped the car beside the birdwatcher’s hut he had noticed on his first visit then removed a torch from the boot of the car. The glade appeared eerie in the combined light of the car’s headlights and the torch. Slivers of silver light were reflected from the grey waters of the lagoon. Kane walked to the hut and illuminated the interior. He half expected to find Safardi there already. However, he didn’t have much time. Safardi and his men were close. The dusty bare earthen floor and rush walls stared back at him. He returned to the car and drove further along the track until he found a flat area beneath an overhanging tree which would suit his purpose ideally. He drove into the cave-like opening created by the tree’s branches. He had made a quick pitstop in Seville where he had found a hardware shop. He’d purchased a heavy screwdriver, a small capacitor, a mechanical relay, a length of electrical flex, a can of lighter fuel, a pound of household putty, and a dark blue overall. In the dim light cast by the single bulb of the car’s boot, he proceeded to connect the relay and the capacitor with electrical flex to the car’s alarm system which ran along the open edge of the trunk and led back ultimately to the battery. With the boot door closed the capacitor would sit inactive but as soon as the door was opened the relay would close and the capacitor would be connected to the car’s battery. After making the connections, he closed and then opened the boot door. He heard the relay close with a soft click and waited while the charge on the capacitor gradually increased until after a minute a spark shot across the terminals. So far so good, he thought. At least everything was in working order. He discharged the capacitor with a length of electrical flex and reset the mechanism. He picked up the can of lighter fuel and working carefully removed the cap and set the terminals of the capacitor into the neck of the can securing the whole arrangement with a lump of white putty. He took the can and placed it behind the packages of cocaine. Then he took the heavy screwdriver and using it as a hammer punched a hole in the fuel tank. The pungent smell of petrol invaded the trunk. Safardi’s surprise package was ready and with a bit of luck it would send the whole lot up like a firecracker. He closed the boot door gently so as not to disturb the mechanism he had installed. Moving away from the car, he proceeded to use the knife he had acquired on the quayside at Rianxo to cut sufficient foliage to conceal the BMW. Before leaving, he collected six stones and laid them on the side of the track leading to the car. He returned to the hut, his preparations complete.
