“Time?” he said, faintly.
“Almost nine. Just gone ten to nine,” she said, checking her phone.
“You’ve got less than five minutes. Marka wants him dead by nine, and then he is going out for dinner to celebrate…” he said wheezing “hurry… please”
Eva nodded. Dan hunched forward and pushed his aching face towards the man. “It’s nasty, isn’t it, to feel what you made me feel, eh, Didi?” said Dan, before he stood away and plodded on. They climbed the stairs past the corpse. Dan looked at the carnage and then at Eva. “Remind me never to pick an argument with you ever again,” said Dan.
“At least some good has come out of this,” said Eva as she leapt up the stairs.
Dan was taking too long. She couldn’t push him, but she hoped her own urgency would drive him faster. Dan clambered up the dark stairs, and then they hustled along the corridor toward the printing press. The whirring ruckus of the press was close now, as were the shouts of working men beyond the door. Light poured in underneath the door into the dark corridor. He was able to see Eva’s clothes more clearly; he saw the yellow tabard she was wearing now, and the backpack.
“Nice outfit. If you had dressed like that the first time I saw you, you could have saved yourself a whole lot of trouble.”
“And if you looked like that, I would have run away screaming.”
He laughed a little and coughed more. “You’re all right, sweetie. Whatever happens next, at least we got to have some fun.”
“Most of the time, Dan. Come on, hurry up, we need to stay alive, remember.”
“We had some fun.”
“You had the most fun, as I remember.” This was ridiculous, rowing like a couple on a bad date. Eva shook her head, this was so very typical. She opened the door. They made it to the yard and just outside was a man in a dark suit with broad shoulders. He turned with vague interest, and then his face became full of shock, open-mouthed with raised eyebrows. Eva was too close to do anything about him, her arms folded back against her body. Dan pushed past her so she fell out of the doorway. As he reached up with one shoulder, the other shoulder began to turn to face front. Shifting from his hip, he planted all his bodyweight behind his quickly coming shoulder, and landed a full strike on the security man’s jaw. He felt the jaw shudder and crack and the man fell to the ground. Eva looked around. The courtyard was clear but the cameras must have seen them. There was always the chance with CCTV that no one was paying attention to the screens. They hurried on out of the night air towards the doorway leading back to the main press room, and as they went to take the handle, the door swung open outwards. They drew to one side and watched as a thickset man in a dark suit began to ease out into the dark. Dan waited until the man just began to let his first foot come down onto the concrete floor, till he hooked his own foot around the back of the man’s ankle, tripped him off balance, and the door came flying outwards with the man’s body toppling against it. The man’s head struck against the floor and he groaned as he pushed his hands out to ease the impact of the force on his body. Eva swung the door to behind him, holding it open just before the click. Dan was slower than usual, but he wasn’t about to let an advantage slip. The man was down. He dropped his entire body weight onto the man’s chest, held one arm down before it could reach for a concealed weapon and attacked the man’s face with as many punches from his right hand as he could muster. Five consecutive hits connected before the man’s defences slipped, then Dan seized his large head with both hands, raised it and dropped it hard against the concrete. The man’s eyes blinked out like a light, and Dan was left breathing heavily after the altercation. They could hear noise beyond the threshold of the door and they dragged the man back into the darkness behind the column of roll cages in the corner of the yard, pulling off his jacket and emptying his pockets. Dan took the cash, the wallet, brass knuckle dusters and a small black pistol. The pistol was a SIG P228, compact and neat. He stuffed the man’s belongings into his pockets. “I’ve got a gun. The odds on us surviving just went up.”
“I’ve got one too, remember.”
“Of course I remember. We might just make it.”
Dan threw on the jacket and fastened up the buttons.
The jacket was far too long and didn’t match his trousers at all, but it might have passed a cursory glance from someone who wasn’t paying much attention. What wouldn’t pass a cursory glance was his face. He looked like someone had mistaken his head for a potato and tried to peel it with a mattock. It would shock anyone who saw him. He saw Eva pondering the same problem. “Industrial accident. Chemicals, whatever. If anyone asks, just give them one of those excuses and keep walking. Here, hold me a little. It will complete the look.”
They entered the building. It was the busiest industrial operation Dan had ever seen, and though what Eva had seen in Dagenham was bigger, this was more advanced. Machines sent newsprint and colour images fresh from the press flying overhead on rails. Men and women in uniforms monitored the lightning procession as it flew by, all thoroughly engaged in tending to their machines. So far, Eva and Dan had not been seen, no new security was heading their way.
Dan took the gun out carefully, folded his hand around it in his jacket pocket and hunched over like a man holding an injury. If he had to pull out the gun and aim it he would be able to do so within a couple of seconds. Eva supported him gently, her mind a whir of guesswork and calculation, working out how much time they had left. Two, maybe three minutes had already gone. Two minutes to go. It was possible Marka would be early, especially if he wanted to get out and meet a date over dinner. She sped up and dragged Dan past the machinery. One head turned – a male worker who stared and said nothing. They approached the doors just as a man and a woman pushed through from the other direction; they hesitated and stared, rubbernecking as they hurried past. The concerned woman asked “Is he all right?”
“No. I’m going to get help now, but someone else is badly hurt out there, down in the basement outside. He needs help. Call an ambulance, please!” Before the woman could ask any more questions, Eva turned away and pressed on towards freedom.
They made it through the swinging doors, away from the commotion of the machines, and out into a canteen area with the vending machines. It was late and the tables were empty now – no meetings on while the printing press was running. Onwards they went. In the lobby, they found a suited man waiting by the two lift doors, his hands crossed one over the other. His stance was that of a bodyguard standing on ceremony; he was as stiff as a post, probably a trained soldier. The digital screen above the lift said number three, and the number was paused. People had to be getting on or off at the third floor, and Eva guessed they were getting on. The lift door was stopping directly opposite the doors of Marka’s flat. Eva hurried now and Dan noticed it. He struggled to keep up with her pace and was about to speak when he saw Eva’s face, she shook her head. They were behind the man in the lobby. He was all about his duty, his body rigid, eyes facing front. The five minutes had to be up. The digital lift sign was their countdown to a major crisis. Dan nodded his head.
In the bright lights Eva thought he looked halfway between a hacked-up beetroot and the elephant man. She said nothing of her thoughts, but Dan caught every bit of it. They had been together so long he could still read her thoughts like a book; it was all in the eyes and the movement of her serious mouth. They passed on silently through the lobby. The numbers were still stuck on the second floor behind them. At reception, there was a delivery man and someone else tutting about a long wait time.
“Let’s go,” said Dan. They passed the reception desk, and a receptionist looked up and got a real shock when she saw Dan.
Eva hesitated now, looking at the desk.
“We should tell them about the basement… that man is badly hurt.”
“That man is dead. We don’t want to join him, Eva.”
Dan was probably right, but she overruled him now because she felt guilt and because she never liked i
t when Dan told her what to do. She called out across the reception, loudly interrupting everyone so they turned and looked. “There’s been an accident out in the back yard basement. In the outbuilding. Someone is very badly hurt. I’m taking this one to hospital myself.” The receptionist nodded, her face changing from aghast to concern. “What happened?”
“Just call for help!” said Eva. She looked back as she stepped out into the evening air. The numbers on the lift changed to one. She dragged herself down the steps. “Quick.” She saw the man by the lifts watching them now, his face changing, wondering what to do. But it was too late for him. Too late for anything at all. They moved quickly into the crowd, Dan now upright, and ignoring the people staring at him and moving out of the way of the hobbling freak. His broad shoulders and upright chest were a defiant challenge to anyone who dared speak to him or slow him down with their inquiries. Everyone looked, nobody asked. They made it to the corner of Queen Elizabeth Street in short order.
“Where?”
“We’ve got to stay on the main streets to get back to Tower Hill as quick as we can.”
“Okay. They can’t touch us in public,” said Dan, smiling out of a broken face.
“But after that, I don’t know. We need to talk it through. You’re out and alive, which is as far as I ever hoped to get. After that, I haven’t got any kind of plan …”
“Don’t worry, Eva. You want plans, I’ve got them. I’ve had dark days thinking about nothing but what I’d do after I got out. I’ve got ideas for the both of us.”
Elated, emotional, tired and still on the run, Eva didn’t have the energy to fight, though Dan being full of ideas was the last thing she needed. Eva felt the buzz of her phone receiving a message. She was going to ignore it, but she didn’t, the timing seemed worryingly precise. She plucked the phone out of her pocket and saw the text was from Jess. It read, “We have something of yours.” Odd phrase. It jarred Eva’s weary mind. A split second later she stopped walking, and Dan slowed beside her, he pulled up to her, and saw she was rooted to the spot. Eva spoke before Dan could ask, “Oh God. They’ve got Jess.”
Dan shook his head, cussed, and looked back at The Daily office building, the place from which he’d just escaped. It seemed to be calling him back already.
Eight
The news was too much to handle right there and then. Without peace and sleep they were no good to anyone, least of all themselves. Even with Jess missing, there was no real choice but to rest for at least a short time. They picked up the Alfa. Eva got in the back, shimmied into her skirt and suit, feeling silly and self-conscious because Dan was in the car with her, being a typical male and pretending not to look all the while sneaking whatever view he could through his peripheral vision. The jogging junk clothes had served their purpose, Dan was free. The goal now was to get a hotel room, and no one would rent any kind of room to a girl in a baseball cap with blood all over her knuckles. First off they tried a hotel in the Ramada chain, but the place was booked to the hilt. Next they drove out of the city centre, and found an Ibis in a section of town just off the beaten track. The Ibis was among a cluster of other hotels in the area, and the half-hidden location appealed to both of them. It took forty minutes to find. The Ibis had a small underground car park to stash the car in.
Eva asked for a twin bed room, but the girl at reception said they were all gone. Next she tried for a double with a sofa. Bingo. Eva took it and booked for one night, leaving Dan locked in the car while she arranged things. Soon after, she rushed him past reception. No one looked, not too much. In the second floor room she started a bath for him.
“A double bed?”
“You can have it to yourself. I’m on the sofa,” said Eva.
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Yes. It was usually you saying it before you changed your mind. I’m glad you’re still familiar with the concept. Have a bath and clean up your wounds, then we’ll get a couple of hours sleep. I’ll call Jess.”
“Leave the bathroom door open. I want to hear what’s going on. Besides, you may want to hop in the bath with me.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to hop anywhere near you right now, Dan.”
She said it all with a half-smile, a mixture of irritation, despair and pity for the man she had once loved. There was something still in her for him. There was emotion there – warmth and affection, but she didn’t understand it right now. It was awkward and out of place, so she chose to bury it and lock it away to study another day. She dialled Jess’s number, and the phone rejected her call. She tried again, but whoever had it thumbed the call reject button again. Now she waited, head leaning back against the arm of a small and distinctly uncomfortable scarlet sofa. Just as she made to close her eyes, her phone buzzed, she turned it over and read the screen.
No Calls. Text only. You made some big mistakes.
She read it over twice. No doubt about it, she had made mistakes, in fact, it felt like all she had ever done was make mistakes. But she wasn’t about to let the bastard unknowingly exploit her self-deprecating streak. She had to man up and do what was necessary, just as she had done an hour ago back at The Daily. It was the same deal here. Life was calling on her to do what was necessary, to hustle, and survive.
Who is this? She texted back and waited.
You lost something? We have it.
Marka. He loved to play cat and mouse, to get inside the head of his victim like a parasite. He was setting up a sting to trap them both now, and it was likely that in the unavoidable effort to save Jess, they would succumb to it.
“What’s the deal, Eva?” Dan called from the bathroom, his voice echoing above through bubbles.
“Marka has got Jess. I can’t believe this. I screwed up - big time.”
“You weren’t there, Eva. You can’t be responsible for someone you sent home if they come back against your advice.”
“She came back out of loyalty, Dan. She did it for me.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Are you serious? It changes everything. We’re right back at square one with a different head on the block. The only thing we can do is go and swap it for ours.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
There was a sploosh and drain of water as Dan unplugged the bath and emerged from the bathroom. His towel hung low around his waist, and he looked at her in the same way he had done during the decade they had lived together. Unself-conscious, his words full of the bravado of old. If for no other reason than to celebrate Dan’s survival, she was happy to hear him reel off the same old script. Damn, she was almost nostalgic for it, the old rubbish she had gotten so sick of, and here she was listening and smiling back at him.
“No?” she said, rhetorically, knowing where this was leading. A speech was coming, the same old speech. For old time’s sake, she let him have his airtime.
“No. Right now Marka has his tail between his legs. He’s beaten. We’ve got him. He knows it. You ruined his two main outsourcing freaks, my boys Didi and Joe. And I just ended any promotion prospects for two more of his men. We know the layout of his building inside out, we know where his apartment is, and what we are looking at it if we go back there. Even with all his money, he won’t be able to buy a new army just after three hours of the first battle. He’s got to be shaken up right now, and so he strikes back at us the only way he can, picking at your nearest weak link.”
“She’s a tough cookie, Jess. Not as weak as you’d think. And she’s smart.”
“But not as tough or smart as you.” He smiled.
The bath water had rinsed his face clean, and the swelling had gone down considerably. The gore had accentuated every bump and bruise, but now he looked almost half-normal, apart from the countless jagged nicks to his face, and the purple circles around his eyes where they’d broken his nose. His body was bruised but not broken. His lean year of poverty had been kind to him, though he was skinnier than before, he was still toned and strong looking, his red
uced musculature more defined than before. The bruises weren’t pretty, but even through her tiredness, Eva felt the warm, racy sensation of attraction to his body which she hadn’t seen for so long. Richard had a body, he was a man after all, but he was soft and pliable, white with a pliable coating of sleek fat from easy living. There was nothing wrong with it if that’s what you liked, but compared to Dan’s body, Richard was just no competition. Eva blushed just a little, like a silly schoolgirl embarrassed at the possibility he had read her mind. He was looking at her as he spoke, cocky and confident as ever, in the strident conclusion of all his classic bluster.
“I vote we keep Marka going with a few sucker punch texts –you know, acting all worried and that. Meanwhile we get some much needed shut eye and then go and finish this tonight.”
“I’m worried, Dan. Jess doesn’t deserve this.”
Dan moved closer to touch her before his face flickered and changed like he was suddenly aware he was dangerously close to crossing a line. There was a new, shy look to his face, almost as cute as his tough guy affectation. She bit down on a smile to stop it coming loose and being seen.
“That’s just talk, Eva. I don’t mean to offend but you’re not in any position right now to help anyone. Look at you. You’re knackered.”
He waited for her to protest, but she didn’t. She gave a faint nod. “Set the alarm, Dan. Two hours. They might accept a two hour delay and we can’t risk any more. Okay? I’ll send them a baiting text.”
She tapped away at her phone while Dan got busy with a digital clock by the bed.
“Don’t hurt her. We need 3 hours.”
The text came back. “No. My game. My rules. 2 hours, then I send location, comply or forfeit.”
She texted back. “2 hours. OK.”
Eva tossed the phone to the floor and looked across to the bed. Dan was sitting there against the bedstead, the duvet around his waist. He patted the bed space beside him. Eva sat up and shook her head.
Crossing the Line Page 10
