by Ian Andrew
Kara wasn’t too sure why, perhaps it was tiredness, or that she still hadn’t found, let alone secured, Chris or Brenda Sterling or that this Detective Reynolds had smashed in the doors to her apartment, Tien’s apartment and their office all for some scum who would have assaulted, raped and maybe killed her. Whatever the reason her temper flared.
“Oi! Don’t tell me what is and isn’t smart. You don’t even know where I am, you don’t know what I’m in the middle of and if you had anything on me for whatever bullshit reason you’re ringing me for you’d have nicked me already. So at the minute you’re the last person to be telling me what’s smart. I’ll phone David when I’m good and fucking ready and he’ll contact you. Until then, you have yourself a nice fucking day.” She hung up the call and walked down through the garden to let her temper dissipate. Her phone rang again after a couple of minutes. David’s number was displayed. She thought about declining it but decided to answer, she could always hang up if Reynolds annoyed her.
“Yes, what is it?” she asked abruptly.
“It’s me Sis. Reynolds wanted to apologise but he didn’t think you’d listen to him. He said it’s fine, he trusts you to call when you’re ready. Okay?”
She never could stay angry with her baby brother, especially when this wasn’t even his fault. “Okay David. And I will, I promise, I just need to concentrate on what I’m doing.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not.”
“Just be safe, hey Sis?”
“Always. You too. Love ya.”
“Yeah, you too.”
As she was about to hang up she suddenly realised what Tony Reynolds had said about his unit.
“David,” she shouted, “David are you still there?”
“Yes Kara, what is it?”
“Listen, tell Reynolds not to leave London. In fact can you and your boss take him to your office? Keep him there. I promise I’ll ring you this afternoon. Not sure when but certainly before seven-thirty.”
“What’s going on Kara?”
“I can’t tell you yet, but the hairs on the back of my neck are up and I need your help.”
There was a short pause, “Okay Sis.”
A becalmed Kara ended the call and rejoined her team in the kitchen.
Chapter 32
Saturday Midday. Arlesey
The planning took another half hour, the argument about which of Illy’s three people to use added another fifteen minutes. Eventually Kara took charge and made the decision that was obvious but dangerous.
“Right, that’s enough. We all know it has to be Anatoly. Sammi, you’re taller than Emilia and broader in the shoulder and your hair isn’t as long as hers, but you’re a blonde and when it comes down to a quick glance through a car window you’ll do. Chaz, you’re taller than Uzy, slimmer and your nose is still in the middle of your face. I hate to say it but compared to him you’re actually quite handsome.”
Chaz waggled his fingers in a V-sign at her by way of acknowledging the back-handed compliment.
“But your hair’s the same colour and if you keep your head down then the same applies as Sammi, you’re close enough. A quick glance through a window and you’ll pass. But there’s none of us look anywhere near the size of Anatoly. So we have to use the real thing. He seems compliant, but that might be a ruse, so Tien folds in to the backseat behind him and we keep a gun on him. Convince him we’ll use it even if he’s driving.”
She held her hand up as if to ward off any continued protests but there were none.
“I know it’s a risk and he might decide to try to punch his way out but it’s really all we’ve got and the clock isn’t stopping. We turn something up by the time Illy expects his three nightshift to be back on duty or we’re all too late.”
The team nodded their acceptance.
“Right, let’s go and get our Russian giant.”
*
The drive took just over an hour. The convoy headed south along the A1, joined the A10 at Knebworth and entered Waltham Cross from the north. It slowly negotiated its way through the busy Saturday afternoon traffic to the industrial estate that lay to the south east.
“So far so good,” Kara said to Tien as they pulled into a small circular spur road. It was home to a timber yard that according to the Internet was shut on a Saturday. The chained and padlocked yard doors and the prominent closed sign in the shop door confirmed it.
Tien pulled the BMW round so that it pointed back out towards the main estate road. Sammi arrived next in the Audi and did the same, ending up just behind Kara and Tien. The Transit, with Eugene and Dan up front pulled in and parked nose-on to the kerb, the rear pointing towards the light blue Mondeo that Chaz was just arriving in.
“Yeah,” said Tien, “but now the fun starts. Do you think he’ll try it?”
“Who knows, but it’s a short drive and we’re out of options,” Kara said as she got out of the car.
Sammi got into the front passenger seat of the Mondeo, Chaz got into the back seat behind her. Tien, the smallest of them by a margin sat crouched behind the driver’s seat. Invisible from view by anyone unless they were stood next to the car she had her Glock pistol out and pointing forward.
Eugene, by far the biggest of them, opened the rear door of the Transit. Climbing in he released the shackles that had held Anatoly in place. The man’s legs were now free but his hands remained taped together. Dan remained at the open door of the van, his sidearm drawn and held down by his side.
“Okay Anatoly, nice and easy, slide yourself to the door then feet on the ground and walk around to the driver seat of your car. Get in and relax. When we’re ready we’ll cut the tape and you do what we’ve talked about. You understand?” Eugene asked.
“Yes. Yes, I understand.”
The Mondeo’s suspension strained under the weight of the man. Anatoly looked at his passengers. Both Sammi and Chaz held Tasers in their hands. He twisted round and saw Tien pointing her pistol at the small of his back.
Dan locked up the van and waited next to the boot of the Mondeo. Eugene walked to the driver’s door and stooped down to talk to Anatoly.
“You remember what you have to do and then we all walk away?” Eugene asked quietly.
“Yes. I know,” the Russian answered.
Reaching in to slit the tape on Anatoly’s wrists the sleeve of Eugene’s T-shirt rode up. Anatoly saw the tattoo of the winged parachute on the black man’s arm. “You are paratrooper?” he asked.
Eugene glanced down at the tattoo of the cap badge he had earned years ago, “Yeah. 3-Para, British Army. Why’s that?”
The Russian tore the last shreds of tape off and rubbed his hands to get the circulation moving, then he rolled up his left sleeve and turned his arm so Eugene could see. The tattoo was of an Ilyushin-76 transport aircraft flying under a parachute. A scroll twisted around the aircraft with what looked like 76 rb BAB etched into it. Sammi, sitting next to Anatoly, read the Cyrillic symbols.
“76th Guards Air Assault Division,” she said to Eugene.
“Yes, this is right.” Anatoly looked between Sammi and Eugene. “I am airborne guard. Paratrooper too,” he said and gave a half smile.
Eugene looked at the Russian’s tattoo again and gave a small nod of acknowledgment.
“You give word that I walk away?” Anatoly asked.
Eugene frowned, “What’s that?”
“You give word. I trust paratrooper to keep word. We are honourable men,” Anatoly said and held Eugene’s gaze.
Without blinking Eugene said, “Yes Anatoly. You do exactly what we talked about and I give you my word, you will walk away.”
Anatoly held his right hand out awkwardly in the cramped space behind the wheel.
Eugene put his knife away and tried to determine if the big Russian was being genuine. He held Anatoly’s gaze then glanced across him to Sammi who gave him the slightest of nods and patted the top of the Taser to let him know she had him covered, just in case.
Eugene shook the Russian’s hand.
“I could help,” Anatoly said.
“Well you’re going to help us anyway,” Sammi said.
Anatoly turned a little in his seat. Sammi gripped the Taser a little tighter.
“No, I mean, I help. Properly. I could go to door. Get the man inside to come out. I can, um,” Anatoly struggled for the word. He swapped to Russian, “Ya budu razoruzhit' yevo.”
Sammi checked she had heard him right, “You mean disarm, you’ll disarm him?”
“Da, yes, I will dis… arm him. No need to kill.”
For no reason he could put his finger on Eugene reckoned the Russian was being truthful but allowing the big man to get back out of the car and have two or maybe three adversaries in the open wasn’t a good idea. Even if he did believe him. It wasn’t a choice he was going to make.
“Thanks, but all you need to do is drive us up there and angle the car the way we told you. If they look out through the curtains like you said they will, then you just wave and we’ll take it from there.”
Anatoly gave a resigned nod of his head.
“Okay, so pop the boot and when the BMW leaves, you follow. Good?” Eugene said, smiled and gave a ‘thumbs-up’.
“Pop the boot?” Anatoly repeated slowly and frowned.
“Open the trunk,” Sammi said. “American Eugene, they speak American. I blame the movies.”
Anatoly reached for the release catch.
Eugene walked to the rear of the car and helped his older brother into the boot. He lowered the lid so Dan could hold the catch but not have it fully closed, then he climbed into the passenger seat of the BMW, next to Kara who had slipped in behind the wheel.
She led them out of the spur road and turned right onto the main estate thoroughfare. Two hundred yards later she pulled over just twenty yards short of the target. The Mondeo passed her and slewed into the small parking area to the front of the brick-built plumbing office. The curtains covering the barred window twitched and a head appeared like some bizarre prisoner in a glass cage. Anatoly waved nonchalantly as Sammi twisted towards the passenger door, balancing her need not to have her face seen with being able to watch both Anatoly and the office. Chaz was almost perfectly blocked by Anatoly’s large frame but had his head bent anyway. Tien scrunched even further down into the foot well of the rear seat.
The curtains dropped back into place.
“Go, Go, Go,” Sammi said quietly.
Looking from her vantage point back down the road, Kara felt a tinge of unease but pushed it to one side as she saw the boot of the Mondeo come up and Dan scramble out. His feet landed on the tarmac of the parking area at the same time as Sammi and Chaz both exited the car. Kara put the BMW into drive and pulled forward.
Sammi and Dan moved to either side of the door and went tight against the wall. Chaz stood a little to the side but in front of the door. He could hear a couple of bolt locks being drawn, top and bottom, then a chain and finally the main key lock being turned.
The door opened inward and the man opening it was instantly confused by what confronted him. He had seen Anatoly from his quick look out the window and thought Emilia and Uzy were in the car with the big man. He’d expected to see one of them at the door. Now there was somebody he didn’t recognise standing between him and Anatoly’s car and there was the loud blast of a horn. He looked past the stranger and over Anatoly’s car to a BMW with a large black man leaning out the passenger side window giving him the finger. The car, driven by a woman, was moving slowly with horn blaring. Suitably distracted he didn’t see Chaz move until he was being pulled out of the office by him.
Chaz had a good few inches of height advantage but was a good few pounds lighter. He spun the guard round and put him into a choke hold. Sammi and Dan, weapons drawn, moved into the office.
Chaz’s opponent had obviously been trained reasonably well, for after the initial disorientation and surprise he began to react. Reaching up he tried to get his hands in between the crushing forearm and his throat, whilst trying to crunch down and sink his chin into the crook of the elbow at his windpipe. In turn, Chaz knew the next thing the guard would try was to step behind him, execute a simple circular half-step and the result would be Chaz on the deck and his opponent in control.
But Chaz was altogether faster in thought and movement. He spun the guard out of the choke hold and punched him full force in the solar plexus. The man promptly sunk to his knees, badly winded.
Kara had swung the BMW around and pulled onto the parking apron. Eugene went to help Chaz whilst Kara moved quickly to the open office door and yelled out to Dan and Sammi that she was coming in.
“It’s okay. It’s all clear. Nobody else in here apart from the good guys,” Dan yelled back from the rooms behind the main office.
Kara relaxed and holstered her pistol. “Where are you?” she called as she entered the curtained room. To her immediate front was a tired, worn and badly stained brown couch, next to it a long oval table was set against the back wall, a television, muted but showing a horse race, sat on it along with a random collection of newspapers and soft porn magazines. In the corner to the far side of the long window a desk and two fixed-leg chairs seemed to huddle together like they were scared of encroaching into the main space. In the far corner between them and the television, diagonally opposite the door Kara had just come through was the door that Dan’s voice had come from. Kara moved towards it but was met by Dan coming back in.
“Well?” she asked.
“We’re halfway home Kara,” he said as he stepped to one side. Sammi came through the door behind him leading a bruised and battered Chris Sterling.
Chapter 33
Saturday Afternoon. Waltham Cross
Eugene had lifted Chaz’s now taped-up opponent into the small back office that had been used to hold Chris Sterling. He’d then escorted Anatoly into the same space and explained that they would let him go as soon as they found Brenda Sterling, but for now he had to stay put. The big Russian accepted it with no outward show of emotion. He even held his hands out to be resecured.
Dan and Tien moved the Audi and BMW to less conspicuous parking spots and Chaz positioned the Transit so he could keep an overwatch on the office. They left Anatoly’s Mondeo parked out front. Tien and Dan rejoined Kara inside the small kitchenette where she was making coffees whilst Sammi tended and dressed Chris Sterling’s injuries. When all had been done to make him as comfortable as possible Sammi joined them.
“Couple of teeth knocked out, probably two or three ribs gone and a nose that’ll need straightening at some point but it’s functioning so I’ll leave it. Extensive bruising all over. Apparently he was pissing blood a few days ago but it’s stopped now. Says they started hitting him a week ago but I couldn’t really gather why. They’ve been hitting and kicking him every day since but it’s been slacking off lately. I assume the guards are under orders from Illy to do it but losing the will. Guess you can only batter someone so much. Anyways, he really needs to go to a hospital but not straight away. For now, he’s all yours,” Sammi said.
“What have you told him?”
“Not a lot. I just said we’ve come to get him out of here. Nothing else. To be honest, he just cried for most of the time I was with him.”
Kara drained the last of her coffee and went out to the main room. She pulled one of the fixed-leg chairs over to the couch where Chris Sterling was awkwardly moving, trying to find a comfortable way for his punished body to sit. His head bent down, he looked submissive and scared. She could see the dried blood, that despite Sammi’s best attempts to clean, was still crusted at his nose and, more worryingly, on his earlobes and inside the ear. His left eye was half closed under a purple and black eyelid that was grotesquely deformed and his bottom lip was swollen and sported a zig-zag split that would have benefited from proper stitches but which Sammi had closed with tiny Steristrip Butterfly versions.
“Hi Chris, I’m Kara. Zoe and Micha
el sent us.” The man gave a strange wail and tears spilled down his cheeks.
Kara went to the small toilet out back and retrieved a roll of paper. By the time she came back in Sterling’s sobs had calmed a little. He very gently wiped his eyes and nose, gasping each time he touched his face.
“Ssshh now Chris, everything’s going to be okay.”
“Who are you? Are you the Police?” he asked in a strange, hoarse whisper, his eyes still staring at the ground.
“No, not police. Just people Zoe and Michael reached out to. Understand?”
“Yes,” Sterling’s voice sounded confused. “Have you found Brenda?”
“Not yet. That’s why I’m talking to you. Where is she?”
“At the camp.”
“What camp Chris? Where are you talking about?”
“The camp he keeps his girls at. You need to get her out of there. You have to go now. You need to leave. You have to go.” His voice was still husky but he was getting louder, agitated.
“Take it easy Chris, calm yourself.” Kara’s voice had raised a little and she placed a hand on his knee.
He flinched, like a small puppy who was patted too aggressively. “Okay,” he said much softer. “Sorry.”
“First things first, tell me about your guard. When does his relief turn up?”
His voice was vague, disjointed, “They hand over at night. About seven or eight. EastEnders is on the TV. I can always hear the theme tune. They all seem to like it. Strange really. Then in the morning they all hand over again.”
“What do you mean they all? Is it just a one for one handover?”
“The two of them change.”
Kara suddenly realised what had caused her unease as she first approached the office. “Chris, listen to me. Concentrate,” she reached out and took his chin in her hand, forcing his head up. “Do you normally have two guards?”
“Yes.”
