Innocent Girls

by Terence Mitford

  The smirk on Gustav’s face faded. ‘What do you want?’

  Mason glanced down at Jessica. ‘Just the girls. Give us the girls and we’ll leave.’

  Gustav sniggered. ‘What are you offering in return?’

  ‘Your life.’

  Gustave stared at him a moment then roared with laughter. ‘Hear that boys? If we give him the girls he’ll let us live.’

  The men sniggered, and the one next to Gustav said, ‘Just say the word Boss and we’ll send him straight to hell.’

  Gustav’s mood changed. Like he’d just remembered something. He looked past Mason to the door. ‘Where is your pretty friend?’

  ‘She’s busy right now.’

  Gustav turned his head. ‘Marius, take Simmons and his assistant and go and check on Bridget and the kid, and use the back stairs, they’re quicker.’

  Marius nodded and hurried away, followed by the surgeon and his assistant.

  Mason was now facing four guns instead of five, but it came at a cost. Although Natasha could handle Bridget, she would not be aware of Marius coming up behind her. He wanted to go and help but needed to get out of the spot he was in first.

  He glanced around him. Nothing to his left accept some kind of stage-like platform made from timber that looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry. But it was at least ten meters away. Too far to reach under a hail of bullets and wouldn’t offer much protection anyway.

  The door he came through was behind him and, although closer than the stage, it was at least four or five meters away. He didn’t fancy making a retreat with his back turned. He would be an easy target.

  To his right, close to the back wall, and a few meters away from the door, there were two stacks of wooden chairs standing shoulder height. A single chair would offer little protection from a nine millimetre bullet, but a whole stack could provide enough density to stop the inevitable wall of lead that would be sent his way as soon as he made a move.

  There was just one unknown.

  Could he send enough fire power their way to distract them long enough for him to reach cover?

  There was only one way to find out. But he had to try and get Jessica out before the war started.

  Mason nodded his head in the direction of Gustav’s men. ‘As you said, you have me outnumbered, so why don’t you let the kid go?’

  Jessica tilted her head and looked up at Gustav.

  He glanced down at her. ‘No good giving me those puppy dog eyes, kid. You are valuable to me but only because I was going to make a small fortune from you.’

  Mason said, ‘In that case let her go to protect your asset.’

  Gustav grinned. ‘I said was. That’s all changed now you’ve fucked up the whole set up. I was just about to shoot her in the head until your other lady friend interrupted us.’ He used his pistol to point at Sofia’s body.

  ‘You still could make your profit from her. There’s just me and my friend left now. Take care of us and you can carry on with business here.’ Mason used Natasha and himself as bait in the hope Gustav would see it was still worth keeping Jessica alive.

  Gustav said, ‘You saying you have not got the word out?’

  ‘That’s right. No one knows we are here.’

  Gustav studied him through squinted eyes.

  Mason stayed quiet, giving him time to decide, and for greed to take over.

  It worked. Gustav shoved Jessica towards the opposite door. ‘Wait over there, kid, and don’t go anywhere.’

  Jessica glanced back at Mason and then did as she was told.

  Gustav turned to the huge man close to him. ‘Hugo, you make a big target. Go over there and keep an eye on her.’

  The big man nodded and followed Jessica.

  Mason got what he wanted. Jessica was out of the line of fire and with Hugo over by the door he was only facing three immediate guns now. They were lined up around fifteen meters away, facing him like a scene from an old western movie. Accept they weren’t holding six shooters. They were holding semi-automatics, which no doubt held at least nine rounds a piece but probably more, a lot more.

  Then it hit him. He knew the pistol in his right hand was a Glock 17, and a standard magazine held seventeen rounds, but he didn’t know how many rounds were left. He had grabbed it from under the seat in the car when he had retrieved the holdall with the cash but hadn’t had chance to check its magazine. Natasha had used one or both of the pistols under the seat to dispatch two of the traffickers at one of the safe-houses, so he could only guess how many shots she had fired.

  He tried doing the math. Two bodies since she took the guns, probably two rounds in each and two shots missed. If she had used the pistol he was holding there should be eleven rounds left. But what if she’d missed with more shots? She was no sharp shooter. For all he knew he could be holding an empty gun. He cursed himself under his breath for not checking before he found himself facing an imminent gunfight.

  But it was too late now. He just had to hope Natasha’s aim wasn’t too bad and that she hadn’t wasted too many rounds. He settled on the number eight. Eight rounds before he would be empty and at the mercy of three armed assailants with thirty to fifty something rounds at their disposal. More if they had spare magazines.

  He planned his tactics. He would fire three shots as he ran for the chairs. If he was still alive when he reached them he would have five shots left. One for each assailant and two spare, which he would need to stop Hugo. But even two shots may not be enough to stop a human tank.

  Mason scanned the three men in front of him, sure that the two on the left would wait for their boss’s signal. He focused on Gustav’s eyes because the eyes were usually the first to show intent. But it would be subtle and would only give him a fraction of a second’s warning.

  Although he would normally wait for his opponent to make the first move, under the circumstances, he could justify a pre-emptive strike. That usually meant a distraction blow to an opponent’s chest with the palm of his hand, but this time it would be three nine millimetre bullets fired from the Glock 17 in his right hand.

  By the time Mason squeezed the trigger, and the Glock spat its fury at Gustav and his men, his feet were already moving, turning him towards the chairs like a sprinter leaving the blocks.

  It was only a few strides and a couple seconds but it seemed like an eternity.

  There was a flash from his left. One of the security guys had been fast to react. Then another, maybe from Gustav’s gun.

  No time to verify.

  He was still moving. Faster with each stride. Expecting the impact of one or more slugs of lead heading his way at around fifteen hundred feet per second.

  How skilled were Gustav and his men with those pistols?

  His momentum carried him past the chairs. He bounced off the wall and spun back behind them. He had reached his cover in one fluid movement. Four or five strides to the chairs, pushed back off the wall, and raised his pistol at the side of the stack.

  No pain.

  But he glanced down anyway.

  Checking for holes.

  Checking for blood.

  So far so good.

  He looked over the top of the chairs to assess what damage, if any, he had managed with his three shots, hoping at least one found its mark.

  Gustav was running towards the door.

  Mason aimed.

  Then paused.

  He couldn’t fire.

  Beyond Gustav was the huge outline of Hugo. Mason couldn’t see Jessica but she must be close by, maybe blocked by the big man or maybe by Gustav’s retreat. Either way, he couldn’t risk hitting her.

  As he hesitated, several shots rang out from his left. Lead smashed into the stacks of chairs, the crack of splintering wood echoing around the bare walls.

  He dropped down low, raised the pistol in his right hand and lined up on one of the security guys who had ejected a magazine and was pushing home a replacement.

  Mason fired.

  Two shots
into the guy’s chest. One more than he’d allocated, leaving him just three left if his calculations had been correct.

  The guy staggered back. The expression on his face told Mason what he wanted to know. The fight had gone, and a second or two later, so had his life.

  The door in the corner of the room opened and the big man disappeared through it pulling Jessica with him.

  Gustav followed but turned back, took up a half concealed position behind the door frame, and let loose several shots in Mason’s direction.

  He pulled back behind the chairs, out of Gustav’s line of sight. He swung his gun arm from the right of the stacks around to the left and lined it up on the remaining security guy. He had back tracked to the edge of the room and was crouching behind an upturned table. Just a thin formica shield. Not as good as two stacks of chairs.

  As they made eye contact the guy fired several shots. Some smashed into the wall behind Mason, some splintered the wooden chairs, exploding thin fragments into the air that rained down on him.

  He was pinned down. Gustav to his right diagonal, the security guy to his left. He retreated behind his stack of disintegrating chairs. Before he could return fire he had to know how many rounds he had left. How many chances to level the odds, or better still, eliminate them.

  He slid out the Glock’s magazine, scanned the small reveal holes down its spine, and sighed with relief. He had twelve rounds left, meaning he had started with a full mag. Natasha must have used the other pistol to shoot the traffickers. When he had pulled out the pistol from under the car seat he had a fifty-fifty chance of picking the one with the full magazine. So luck had been on his side. He hoped it would stay there a little longer.

  Twelve rounds was a lot better than the three he would have had if his earlier calculations had been correct.

  But he still couldn’t afford to waste any.

  40

  NATASHA

  Natasha froze halfway up the stairs. The sound of gun shots behind her reverberated down the long corridor, up the walls of the stairwell, and right through her bones. The war had started and Mason was in the middle of it.

  She wanted to go back and help. But how? Mason had the only gun.

  Then she glanced up the stairwell leading to the floor with the operating theatre where Katerina was being taken.

  She had no choice. She continued up the stairs.

  When she reached the doors to the theatre she paused to sneak a look through the slim glass panel at her head height.

  Katerina was strapped to the table just like Sofia had been, but still wearing her summer dress. No doubt they were intending to cut it off before the operation. Then Natasha drew breath as the surgeon and his assistant walked into view. Including Bridget, there were now three enemies to deal with but that was okay. The women would offer little resistance so she would deal with the surgeon first.

  She placed her left hand on the door ready to push, reached behind her, and pulled out the scalpel that she had pocketed earlier from the trolley.

  Then she felt cold steel on the back of her neck.

  ‘Drop the knife or I’ll blow a hole in this pretty little head of yours.’

  Natasha turned cold, as if liquid ice ran through her veins. How could she have been so careless? After everything she had been through over the last couple of days she had let her guard down and allowed one of them to take her by surprise. She had been so close to rescuing her sister, but what now? She had let Katerina down.

  She loosened her grip and let the scalpel fall to the floor. A hand pushed in the centre of her back, forcing her through the doors into the operating room. There was a moment’s silence as she became the focus of attention.

  The surgeon said, ‘Nice job, Marius.’ He pointed to the observation room. ‘lock her in there so she can watch the procedure.’

  As she was pushed into the side room, Natasha focused on Katerina. Her sister was laying on her back staring up at the ceiling, terrified. She hadn’t looked Natasha’s way and couldn’t know her big sister was so close.

  Natasha pressed her hands against the glass and looked out at Katerina.

  Marius stood in the doorway studying Natasha. Then his jaw dropped open. He nodded slowly and pointed over to Katerina. ‘You are sisters.’

  It was more of a statement than a question.

  Natasha studied him a moment while trying to decide how to respond. Should she admit the truth and risk him using it against her in some way, and if he did, how? But what could be worse than the current situation?

  She nodded.

  Marius grinned. ‘I thought so.’ He stood aside and motioned her towards him. ‘In that case you can have a ring side seat. Come back out here.’

  The ice in her veins thawed a little. This was good. Maybe now she would get a chance to do something. She left the room and stood next to Marius just a couple of metres away from Katerina. As her eyes scanned the room, searching for something that could help, the door swung open and the huge man she had first met in the corridor escorted Jessica into the room.

  Her heart sank. Her chances had just gone from difficult to virtually impossible. Even if she could have found a way to deal with Marius, she would not stand a chance against Hugo.

  The surgeon stared at the big man. ‘What’s going on?’

  Hugo said, ‘There has been a change of plan. Gustav wants the kid back.’ He pointed to Katerina.

  The surgeon shook his head in frustration. He seemed disappointed. Maybe he was a sadist and was looking forward to taking Katerina’s life. But he motioned for his assistant to remove the restraining cuffs holding Katerina down.

  Bridget, stepped forward. She was staring at the screen of her mobile phone. ‘Too late, the money has been transferred. The operation must proceed.’ She turned to the surgeon’s assistant who had just prepared a syringe. ‘Carry on, I’ll let Gustav know the funds are in.’

  The assistant lowered the syringe down to Katerina’s arm.

  Natasha acted instinctively. No plan. No chance of success. But she couldn’t just stand there and watch her sister injected with a muscle relaxant in preparation for surgery. She sprang forward and grabbed the assistant’s wrist. ‘Don’t touch her, you psychopath.’ She pulled the syringe from the assistant’s hand but was then yanked backwards by an arm wrapped around her throat.

  Katerina raised her head and gasped. ‘Natasha!’

  Natasha flipped the syringe in her right hand and placed her thumb on the end of the plunger, ready to stab it into Marius’s leg. Although it should incapacitate him fairly quickly she would then be at the mercy of the big man holding Jessica. But she had to deal with the immediate threat first because if she didn’t, nothing else would matter.

  As Natasha raised her hand Katerina shouted out, ‘Please, Hugo, do something.’

  Natasha froze, mainly through surprise that Katerina was pleading for Hugo to help. He had abducted her, smuggled her across Europe, and delivered her to the psychos who were now planning to kill her. He was responsible for the situation they were in right now. Why would he help?

  She dismissed Katerina’s pleas as childhood naivety and tightened her grip on the syringe.

  But Hugo turned to Marius and said, ‘Let her go.’

  Marius maintained his grip around Natasha’s neck. ‘She’s the kid’s sister.’

  Hugo nodded. ‘I know she’s her sister. I knew it the second I laid eyes on her in the corridor.’

  Natasha remembered that meeting and how uneasy she had felt when he had stared at her. But if he had recognised her as Katerina’s sister why hadn’t he reacted, or at least blown their cover to Gustav? He had his chance in Gustav’s office when she and Mason were held at gunpoint.

  Hugo looked over her shoulder at Marius. ‘I said, let her go. This has gone far enough. Trafficking girls is one thing but this is fucked up.’ He pointed to Katerina still strapped to the operating table.

  Marius tightened his grip on Natasha. ‘It’s suicide, Hugo. Gustav
will have us both killed.’

  ‘That’s a chance we’ll have to take.’

  ‘Not me. I’m not going against Gustav.’

  ‘Then you’ll go against me.’

  Marius took a step back, pulling Natasha with him. Then he raised his right hand and pointed a pistol at Hugo’s chest. ‘I won’t hesitate to shoot you, Hugo.’

  Bridget interrupted the stand off. ‘I take it there was no change of plan, Hugo?’

  Hugo said nothing.

  Bridget continued. ‘We have a job to do here.’ She turned to the surgeon. ‘Cut her open, now.’

  The trolley displaying an array of cutting instruments was next to Natasha’s right hand. She still held the syringe but even though the drug would incapacitate Marius quickly, it wouldn’t be instant. She studied the instruments and decided on the one she would go for. It wasn’t the largest scalpel but it was the closest.

  Hugo turned and walked over to the operating trolley. He pulled off the first ankle strap around Katerina’s ankle. Then grabbed the second.

  Marius shouted out. ‘I’m warning you, Hugo.’

  Hugo flicked open the velcro strap and reached over to her right wrist. As he ripped it off, Marius fired.

  The bullet struck Hugo in the right shoulder blade. He stumble forward.

  Natasha dropped the syringe onto the trolley, grabbed the scalpel, and plunged it into Marius’s right thigh. He screamed out and released his grip on her. She spun around and thrust the blade at him again. But he backed away and raised the pistol, pointing it at her.

  Hugo moved fast for a big man. In a flash he was between Marius and Natasha and took the second shot square in the chest. But he surged forward, grabbed Marius around the throat and squeezed. Marius shoved the barrel of his pistol into Hugo’s belly and fired two more shots.

  The big man collapsed on the floor.

  Natasha was too far away to stab Marius with any chance of success. So she moved back and stood in front of Katerina who was pulling at the last strap restraining her left wrist.

  Natasha had always known that she would, if necessary, give her life to protect her young sister, and as she stood facing Marius she could only hope, that after he shoots her, he would let Katerina live.