Cut for Life

by Lucinda E Clarke

  Amie was hoping she might get to see or hear the real Maddy when she finally sat down to talk to her, but the identity of her handler was still a secret. With the voice distort in place she still had no idea if Maddy was a man or a woman or if s/he was in London or in the next room. I wish they wouldn’t take this secrecy to the nth degree, Amie muttered to herself. Maddy grumbled about her losing all the expensive techno gadgets, but agreed it couldn’t have been helped. “You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Amie snapped back at her. “Maybe we should change places and you get a shot at field work for a change. I’ll sit in your cosy office in Whitehall or wherever you are and give you instructions.” Maddy told her to sit tight, then hung up on her before Amie could ask her about Jean-Pierre.

  Ian returned with a smile on his plump little face. “Thought you could do with a bit of pampering. You might have guessed we’re a bit over crowded here right now,” he chuckled, “so I’ve booked you into the Grand for a couple of nights. I’ve raided petty cash too, I’m sure you’ll need a few things.”

  “Great, thank you so much.” Amie smiled. “A hot shower and a good night’s sleep in a proper bed is just what I need.”

  “And a bit of peace and quiet too, I should imagine.”

  She laughed. “How did you guess?”

  Amie said goodbye to the children, with hugs and promises to see them off at the airport the next day. Then she jumped into the embassy car waiting for her outside. She asked the driver to stop a couple of times and dashed into the nearest clothes store and grabbed something to wear and some toiletries. Even when she booked into the hotel, they didn’t ask to see any identification. She only had to mention Ian’s name and she was allowed to take the tiny lift up to her room. To her delight this time there were towels and, as a bonus, the air conditioner worked as well.

  She stood under the shower washing her hair, luxuriating in the hot water cascading over her body. She scrubbed herself from top to toe and ruefully looked at all the scratches and bruises she’d accumulated over the past few weeks. The knowledge that she’d come through it all, alive and relatively unscathed, sent a thrill running down her back. Now all it needed was for Simon to knock on the door and life would be perfect.

  At the same instant the thought entered her head, there was an urgent rapping on the door. He was here! She grabbed the largest towel off the rail. It was much smaller than she would have liked, only big enough to make her decent. Not that it mattered she wasn’t planning on wearing it for long.

  Her wet feet left patches on the carpet as she rushed to fling open the door. But it wasn’t Simon. It was Jean-Pierre.

  She tried to slam the door but it was too late. His huge foot filled the gap and he pushed the door hard against the wall striding in and letting it bang shut behind him.

  Amie backed away, clutching the towel around her. How could she attack him in the tiny space of the bedroom, particularly when all he had to do was rip the towel away and she would be naked? A naked attack might seem valiant but would certainly be foolish. He read her mind as he pinned her arms to her side and backed her up against the wardrobe, pressing himself hard against her so she couldn’t move her legs either.

  “Ma cherie, ma cherie” he whispered in her ear, “you must listen to me.”

  “I don’t want to hear another word from you,” Amie spat back. “You’re a lying bastard! How could you! All those poor little girls, how could you?”

  “But I told you before: I was there to help them and you, ma petite. I was, am still, working with you!”

  “Were you, hell. Get away from me.” Amie twisted and squirmed against Jean-Pierre, desperate to get some leverage so she could attack him. Why, oh why, hadn’t she made sure he was dead back in Atari?

  “Listen, ma belle, listen to me. Here are some facts.” He continued crushing her against the wardrobe door, the handle digging painfully into her back. “Who you think put the knife by the perverts’ suit jackets for Linda to find? Who made sure the door to the container was left open at night so you could escape? Who brought the four children to the embassy the first time? Think, Amie think!”

  Amie considered his words, but didn’t believe them for one minute. “That’s rubbish! I bet you killed Bill, and what happened to Jake and Simon, did you kill them as well? You lured me back to the compound, you let Charlie and Tony grab those kids again and where are they now? Did you kill them too?”

  “I didn’t kill those men. I told you that so you would pretend not trust me. You were maybe a bad actress? What if you let them know we were together? I had to take you back to the camp. I didn’t have enough evidence until then. If you had managed to get help then I could not have the pictures of the criminals in charge. They would have run away and we would not have caught them.”

  “Funnily enough, those dirty, perverted freaks simply flew away in a helicopter, or maybe you didn’t notice that? I saw it land, and when I came to it was gone and so were another three of the children!” Amie’s tone dripped with sarcasm.

  “But I did catch them, with my camera. Did you recognize the minister from a Middle Eastern country? And a Chinese mafia chief? And the third man, did you not know him, either?”

  “And who was he supposed to be?”

  “A crown prince from the Gulf states. So now my embassy has those incriminating photographs and they will be arrested. That is good, non? You saw they are buying the children. I took also the pictures of the surgery, the awful, vile operation to hurt those little girls. Jean-Pierre is a good cameraman.”

  Amie stood stock still, almost relaxing in his grip as she tried to get her head round what he was saying. Should she believe him? Again?

  He sensed her relaxing and let her go, stepping away from her, causing the towel to fall to the floor leaving Amie naked. She bent down and hastily wrapped it around her.

  “Ah oui ma cherie, please cover yourself quickly or I may not be responsible for my actions.”

  Amie dashed into the bathroom grabbing the shopping bags as she fled. Super agent or not, fighting without any clothes was not something she cared to try.

  Jean-Pierre’s voice floated over to her as she threw on her new jeans. “If you phone to your British Embassy they will tell you I gave them the pictures too. Speak to your Ian, the little James Bond man.” He chortled.

  Amie paused, thinking hard yet again. Oh God, her brain was so fried she couldn’t make sense of it all. She pulled on a T-shirt and stepped back into the bedroom.

  “You are really working with the Service?” she asked.

  “Mais oui, like I tell you. Another thing I did was to pour more petrol on the ground just before the rain came. I turned over all the big barrels and the fuel it comes pouring out.”

  We didn’t have the strength to do that with the larger barrels. Amie thought. I wish we’d been able to surround every one of them and let them all burn in hell.

  She walked over to the bedside table and lifted the receiver on the hotel phone. Jean-Pierre sat quietly on the bed. “You phone le Fleming yes? You see I tell you the truth. I tell you something else, too,” Jean-Pierre continued. “They know where you are all the time.”

  “Who do?”

  “Your secret service, they track you.” He bent down and picked up the pair of boots Amie had discarded and peeled back the heel to reveal a small tracking device embedded in the rubber. “See this little thing? It is so powerful. How did you think I found you? I think the patrols from the camp might have seen you and killed you too like Jake and Bill, but all the time I see this little light winking and moving and I know my Amie is safe.”

  Amie stood and thought carefully. His story was plausible, he had helped them earlier and it was the aid workers who’d abducted the children a second time. If he knew about the bug in her boot then he must be friends with the British. Still, as usual she found it hard to make up her mind.

  She sat on the bed, the phone still in her hand. She thought of something else. “Tell me where I w
as supposed to fit into all this. I was told just to watch, wait and if possible report back. No one mentioned you at all.”

  “The big guys, they know it is not only the children these people want. They want to embarrass the British too. To make money by taking the daughter of an important minister in your government and showing the world you are still alive, Amie Fish.”

  Amie gasped.

  “If they can show the world that those lies were told, then it would be very uncomfortable for your government, non?”

  “But you took the photographs!” Amie protested.

  “But, of course. I say I will do it, but I can delete them later. I am in charge of the camera and I can take many pictures.”

  Amie remembered Jean-Pierre whispering in her ear, when she was sitting on the tree trunk in the compound trying to re-assure her he was a friend. She hadn’t believed him then, but she was beginning to believe him now.

  “There are still some unanswered questions, Jean-Pierre. It is very hard for me to believe you and trust you again.”

  “Ask me, ma cherie, anything. I tell you everything.”

  “You told me that in the first village they killed Kirsty and Nigel.”

  “Yes, it was the rendezvous point. They tell me Tony and Charlie were to meet them there to take Fazia to Atari so they could blackmail your government.”

  “But why kill Kirsty and Nigel?”

  “They were just to provide the cover, a happy band of young people coming to give aid to the poor Africans. I expect those bad guys saw they were a threat. They could have run away and told the police, or the newspapers.” Jean-Pierre shrugged his shoulders. “But I had to save you because as I told you before, I work for my government with your government, and I am talking to your Maddy so I know you are on my side.”

  “Even if all that were true,” Amie snapped, her eyes flashing, “it still doesn’t explain why you handed the children over to them outside the British Embassy.”

  “No, I did not do that thing!”

  “I’m sorry, Jean-Pierre.” Amie stood up. “I just don’t believe you. The girls both told me the same story and Linda described Charlie and Tony in minute detail. Linda was very good at that. You met them just outside the gates and they were going to take them inside.”

  “I can prove to you I tell the truth.” Jean-Pierre stood, towering over Amie. “We go and ask Tony and Charlie. They are staying here in this hotel.”

  “What!” Amie leapt to her feet.

  “That is why, ma cherie, I come for you, so I can show you I am the good person. We go ask them now.”

  For a few moments Amie dithered. If she went with Jean-Pierre and he was in league with the other two, then she would be up against very poor odds. Why not call Ian so he could send some reinforcements? Yes, that was the sensible thing to do. She lifted the receiver to her ear and went to dial, but Jean-Pierre took her hand and held it lightly.

  “You come with me, yes?” Jean-Pierre stood up pulling her up with him.

  There was an urgent knock on the door and Jean-Pierre moved over to open it.

  Amie replaced the receiver. She’d left Ian’s number in her cargo pants and she’d left those lying on the floor by the shower. As she moved towards the bathroom she saw Tony fly through the door and collide with Jean-Pierre.

  “You bastard, you were never going to pay us were you? You just used us!”

  Tony threw a punch to Jean-Pierre’s gut but he ducked and landed a massive right hook to Tony’s jaw. They bounced off the wardrobe, splitting the flimsy veneer.

  Amie was so stunned she didn’t see Charlie launching herself at her, fingers extended going for her eyes. Instinctively Amie swerved to one side, pulled her left hand back and threw a well-aimed punch at Charlie’s nose. She connected with a sickening crunch, and her opponent swayed for a few moments, before she gathered her wits again and went to slash Amie across her arm. Amie hadn’t even noticed the blade in Charlie’s hand, but she easily spun out of range. She twisted round behind the girl and smashed the back of her neck with her forearm and elbow. Charlie crumpled into a heap on the floor, motionless. Amie leaned over her and felt for a pulse. It was weak but still there. Amie hesitated over finishing the job; Charlie was no threat to them anymore.

  She turned to see Jean-Pierre crouched on top of Tony. She watched spellbound as the Frenchman calmly and deliberately drew a knife across his throat, the blood gushing out onto the bright blue carpet.

  At that moment Amie knew without any doubt at all that Jean-Pierre had been lying. He had always been lying and now he was determined to eliminate anyone who could expose him – and that included her.

  33 A FINAL SURPRISE

  He stood up and looked at her, a small smile playing over his face. “Now, it is almost over, ma cherie.”

  “Almost?” Amie’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “Yes. Now, there is only you.” He walked towards her holding the bloody knife out in front of him.

  Amie backed away from him, intent on reaching the phone. Jean-Pierre walked to the door and for a fleeting moment Amie thought he was going to leave, but he closed it softly and then turned to face her. His eyes glittered, his smile was terrifying as he casually stepped over Tony and Charlie lying on the floor. He avoided stepping in Tony’s blood which had pooled around him and splattered over the furniture and the walls.

  “But, you said we were on the same side, you knew about Maddy and ...” Amie spluttered, playing for time as she edged towards the bedside table.

  “Je suis désolé, I am sorry, ma cherie that was a trick. You see when I see you come from the internet cafe in Atari, I bribe, with money yes, that young boy and he let me use your computer and I call up all your emails ...”

  “That’s ridiculous, you didn’t have my password ...”

  “Jean-Pierre is marvellous on the computer, for me it is a so simple thing to do and when the lights went down you were still waiting, non?”

  Amie remembered not having cleared the cache on her first visit and mentally kicked herself. The screen had suddenly gone black when the electricity failed hiding the electronic trail from view, but her emails had still been open.

  “You were working with Tony and Charlie all along?”

  “They thought so yes, but now I have no use for them anymore and they know this, so they come to kill me, they know I am here with you. They want to kill you too, so you see, once again I saved you, ma petite belle. But this time I save you for myself. I have followed you all the way from Durban. Yes, that surprises you?”

  Amie gaped at him. “From Durban?”

  “Ah yes. While you are having the romantic dinner with your Simon, I am in your apartment. It is so nice there you make it very beautiful, and it is there I put the little GPS in your boot. See?” Jean-Pierre pulled out the small black plastic box Amie remembered when she’d asked him to empty his pockets after the attack by the Land Rover. She’d not given it a second glance at the time. No wonder he’d been able to find her, not once but three times – in Atari, when they stopped for the night in the middle of nowhere, and now in the hotel.

  Jean-Pierre watched her as if he could read the cogs spinning inside her head. “Me, I do not like the loose end.” He reached into his pocket and waved the tiny SIS laptop Amie had lost. “And, yes I have this too I take it on the plane, so easy! Now Tony and Charlie they cannot talk, that just leaves you. I am for my embassy who work with your embassy and they think I am a good person. Triple agent, non? So useful for the people I really work for. I am clever, oui?”

  Despite his awful words, Jean-Pierre was still one of the most charming and charismatic people Amie had ever met, even now. But the knife he was juggling from one hand to the other mesmerised her. She had to keep him talking, someone might have heard the ruckus and called for help.

  “I will make this quick, I promise you that.” Jean-Pierre looked regretful. “It is so sad. Such a beautiful woman, to die so young.”

  “You could
have killed me in the village with Kirsty and Nigel, why didn’t you do it then?”

  “I had to find out what you knew, and what my people and your people knew. Did anyone suspect me? And too, you could give me a good report with your Maddy, so simple. I keep you alive but I do not tell the kidnappers. I am clever.”

  “Why, though, why do you do it? Those poor children!”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Don’t you realise, ma cherie, how much those fat, old, disgusting men pay for such a young child who will be forever theirs? More money than I would earn if I live to be a hundred!”

  Amie kept her eyes on the knife as she slid one foot after the other over the blue carpet; little by little towards the bedside table.

  She needed to distract Jean-Pierre. So, with nothing to lose, she tried the oldest trick in the book. She raised her eyebrows a little and gave a slight nod to an unseen person behind him.

  He pivoted on one foot to face the imaginary intruder, giving Amie time to grab the heavy brass bedside light with both hands. She ripped the cord from the wall and lunging at Jean-Pierre swung it at him as hard as she could. The back of his head split wide open, and he dropped like a stone. Amie froze, overwhelmed at what she’d done, her hands still stuck to the heavy brass light.

  She sank onto the bed, shaking, a red fog in front of her eyes, her trance only broken when she heard raised voices in the corridor outside her room.

  Gathering herself together she went to fetch Ian’s card and with trembling hands picked up the handset to call and tell him she had extra baggage in her room.

  Then she stood up and walked over to the tray to make herself a cup of coffee. She had second thoughts and raided the mini bar instead.

  Ian arrived half an hour later and Amie let him in. He glanced at the cup of coffee she was holding and raised his eyebrows.

  “For my nerves,” she explained. “I’ve already had two miniatures from the fridge and a kitkat. You recognise any of them?” She waved her thumb towards the three bodies decorating her hotel room carpet.