On Borrowed Time

by Solomon Carter

  “If it makes you feel better.”

  “This will make me feel much better,” said Dan. “Brodski, you’re with me. Let’s move now.”

  Dan started running towards the front of Berenger Court and out into the main street. For the most part the street was clearing. Some workers were peering out of their office windows trying to catch the real life action that was being discussed on the television news.

  “What’s the hurry?” said Brodski, staying at Dan’s shoulder as they rounded the building to go back down the narrow streets they first came from.

  “This is more than recon. Just stay with me.”

  They arrived in the narrow lane at the back of Berenger Court, a road which ran parallel with the main street. Dan peered up at the architecture and took a calculated guess. “Here. Take a peek.”

  They pressed up against the anonymous looking wall, and pulled themselves up on a plinth mounted along the foot of the wall so they could peer through the windows. The glass wasn’t smoked, it was dirty, and hard to see through. But a minute or two later, Dan saw movement within.

  “If my hunch is right we need to be invisible just about now.”

  Brodski looked terrified and wide eyed. “What the hell is this? Are these who I think…?”

  Dan nodded. Of course they were. He moved ten yards up the lane to a recess where a door had once been but had been bricked in yet not erased from history. Brodski followed suit and they pressed in hard to the wall. There was the shunting noise of a lock and bolt opening and the loud echoing pop of a door being opened into the alley way. Dan stuck his head round. Five, six, eight, ten men in dark clothes moved at their own pace walking away up the lane. They were not under orders otherwise these men would be running or marching. This was good - just as Dan had hoped.

  “You like tempting fate, Bradley,” said Brodski.

  “Nah. I like helping it along. We’re still waiting.”

  Two minutes later the door popped again, and a confident broad-shouldered man stepped out and shut the door. He was wearing black clothes and a hat, but had a different bearing to the others. This man was not a follower. Dan stepped out into the street and moved as quietly as he could. Quinn, a man he would never have had down as a smoker was busy lighting up. If not for the cigarette distraction Dan guessed a man as seasoned as Quinn would definitely have heard him coming. But at last maybe Dan and Eva’s luck was turning.

  Quinn looked up and round at Dan with the glowing ember of the cigarette close up in Dan’s face. Dan landed a blow which crushed the cigarette into Quinn’s mouth and knocked him back against the wall. He slid down the wall and coughed.

  “You should give that shit up,” said Dan.

  “I like to smoke. Remind me to pull the trigger next time, Bradley” said Quinn, coughing and pushing himself up to standing position.

  “I didn’t mean the smoking. I meant the lying, bullshitting and generally being a two-faced, turncoat bastard. It stinks Quinn. I had you down as better than that. And I mean the whole British intelligence service, not just you with your low grade knucklehead operation.”

  Across Quinn’s shoulder Dan saw a few of the men in black still lurking at the end of the road. He made out their faces beneath their hats. A few of them had been watching, and had done nothing to help their superior officer. Quinn followed Dan’s eyes. “Don’t worry your little head, Bradley. They won’t shoot unless I say. And besides, most of that team have been hoping to see me get pasted for a while now.

  “They weren’t the only ones. You’re not fighting back?”

  Quinn grimaced and pulled another cigarette from a ten pack in his jacket.

  “No. Sometimes I don’t like the things we’re called to do. I don’t even like myself very much. In your position, the least I’d want is a free hit. But that’s the limit of it, Bradley. You’ve used up all your free hits with me. Now if I were you, I’d start thinking with your brain instead of whatever else you’ve been using. I can’t put this off for too long. When ministers and executives start using words such as ‘the national interest’ and ‘for the good of the nation’ you know they are looking to take drastic action. They’ve been using that language in the context of the Russian operation against Brian Gillespie. They are going to do whatever they please in order to flex their muscles at the Russians. If that means wiping out a few UK citizens who were going to die anyway, then they’ll do it. The only thing you’ve got, Bradley, is the time I’ve given you to get something else happening quickly. If you manage to change the situation – if you manage to undermine the Russian plan and change the game, it’s likely my bosses will have a rethink on their strategy. But until that happens, you’ve only got a fraction of time. And you’re here wasting it on me. How was your free hit, Bradley?”

  Dan couldn’t look at Brodski, but felt the man’s eyes staring into the side of his face. Clearly everyone here thought Dan was an idiot, Dan included. “It felt good for a second.”

  “Then remember that, while you still can. Get moving. Miss Roberts’ life is still at stake.”

  Dan shook his head and walked away.

  “You should still quit, Quinn.” Dan always liked having the last word. But the ones inside his head weren’t so snappy. He had to get back to Eva and be the difference that would save her life. There could be no more emotional knee jerks or time wasting, not if Eva was to have any chance at all. As soon as they rounded the corner away from Quinn, Dan broke into a run.

  Twenty-one

  Dan’s recon didn’t deliver very much apart from some new signs of bad atmosphere between Dan and Brodski. Under normal circumstances Eva would have asked what the problem was, but these days asking seemed like the most pointless waste of time in the world. They were safe enough. Brodski said if they wanted to get out of the police cordons they would have to follow the route the British security forces had taken, as they would know a way past the cameras and their less informed police counterparts. They took the back route and eventually came out on the path near the Thames via a cobbled street that was no wider than an alley. A police copter hung in the air over Shad Thames, and they could see the tight ring of police in yellow high visibility coats backed by their meat wagons. The media was out in force too, a BBC live broadcast vehicle was on site beside Sky and ITN trucks. Whatever story the government was pumping out was going to be big news for a few days to come.

  “I always said London was an exciting town,” said Dan.

  “I wish it was 99% less exciting right now,” said Eva.

  “I take your point,” he replied.

  There were only six of them left. On the bright side Kropotkin, if that was her name, was badly injured. Eva’s phone began to ring. She didn’t recognise the number and put it straight to her ear.

  “Yes?”

  “Miss Roberts. Any developments on our fraud case? I’m concerned the culprit will strike again before we can remove them at this rate.” It was Greer.

  Eva rolled her eyes so Dan would understand. He nodded once.

  “Yes, yes, it’s just since that small incident outside your offices I’ve been just a little preoccupied. But don’t worry, Mr Greer, I’m still working hard to bring home the bacon on this one.”

  “I never had any doubts on that score, Miss Roberts. I just fancied an update, that’s all.”

  “Well, my update is that I’ll update you just as soon as I can. Have a good day, Mr Greer.”

  “The same to you. Good bye.”

  Eva hung up and looked at Dan. He was grinning.

  “You’re under a death threat and you’re still keeping that cold paper chase alive?”

  “If there’s one thing the last couple of months have taught me, it’s that if I look after this business it will look after me. If I neglect it, well, I end up where I am now.”

  “Having a contract on your head is not the result of a little laziness, Eva.”

  Her phone rang again. Eva tutted and stopped, ready to deliver some more forceful
advice to the energetic old man. She pressed the phone to her ear, but the sound of an altogether different voice kept her from launching into her tirade.

  “Miss Roberts. We’re here,” said the voice.

  “Mr Gillespie? Where is here?”

  “We’ve pulled up on the South Bank now. Keeping you alive has been very costly so far.”

  “Letting them have their way will prove more costly still.”

  “Yes, there is that. But they have a problem now. I know they intended to cause me harm. The news for them is that I haven’t changed. I’m older and wrinklier but those bastards don’t realise, I haven’t gone daft or soft in my old age. I’m a destroyer. And they want to take me on? Where is the assassin?”

  “She’s injured. Her name is Anna Kropotkin, so we believe. She and her team are responsible for the death of most of your men, Mr Gillespie. She almost had us, but we got away. She’s hurt. Chances are she’s now back in The Daily building. It would be near on impossible for any of their army to have gotten away – the police and the secret services have put a ring of steel around the area.”

  “That’s handy. Very handy. I’m going to send in some of mine and Joleen’s people. You sit this one out, okay?”

  Eva blinked. “Why?”

  “Like I told you. I’m not going soft. If you’re dead then these bastards get what they want. I don’t want that at all, do I? Sit this one out. It’s best you make your way back to Boneyard Lane. Right now that’s probably the only place you’re definitely safe.”

  Eva wasn’t convinced that statement was true, but she wasn’t in the mood to argue. She looked at Dan and the others. They were sweating, bloody, exhausted and broken. Yes, maybe it was a good time to take a break. “We’ll take that offer.”

  “Good,” was all the old man said then hung up. Eva conveyed the call to Dan and the others. Dan was silent but looked like he was chewing a wasp. She guessed it was because Dan would never feel safe under Gillespie’s roof either.

  “That man has a game plan,” said Dan, whispering so the old man’s weary troops wouldn’t hear him, “and we don’t have a clue what it is. Don’t go into the dragon’s cave unless you know you can beat him.”

  “Dobcek is bigger than just Shad Thames and South Bank, Dan. If he wants to get us, he could strike anywhere. I think the dragon’s cave might be the safest place there is.”

  Dan tilted his head left and right in a maybe/maybe not gesture. In Eva’s mind maybe was just about their best bet…

  At Boneyard Lane they spent two hours under the watch of Joleen Riley’s short lieutenant and some other oddballs belonging to her clan, before old man Gillespie showed with some big news. Until then the way Riley’s men looked at Eva and Dan reminded Eva of prison guards in some cheap old movie. The guards must have been instructed to show disrespect and disgust towards them down to their very smallest gestures and the look in their eyes. They were kept in silence with some sandwiches and glasses of water. The sandwiches would have been at Gillespie’s behest. The water was because of Riley s contempt. Either way, the sandwiches and water went down like a feast, and far from being torture, the silence was a soothing balm after gunshots, exploding shop windows and running for her life.

  But on the two hour mark, the silence was over. First off, the short lieutenant and the other stooges started running around. A few disappeared, and left Dan and Eva chewing the last of their paltry meal. Then came the mechanical creak as the side gate of Fitzpatrick House opened. Cars pulled up to a crunching halt on the cobbles outside and doors slammed quickly and with purpose.

  “Something is going down,” said Georgiev, stating the obvious.

  “You think?” said Dan.

  The front door clicked and swung open introducing a cacophony of barked instructions and aggression, and the scraping noise of someone being dragged in against their will. Dan stood and opened the lounge door peering into the hall.

  “Get back in there!” said the short man.

  “You think I’m listening to you?” said Dan.

  Eva leaned over and saw three men dragging in a shape with blood on it. The figure was restrained. Another followed, though this one was much bigger. Eva’s adrenaline took another unwelcome surge and she leapt out of her chair as she recognised the first prisoner.

  “It’s her. They’ve captured Anna Kropotkin!”

  Dan snapped around and looked at Eva. Neither one was yet relieved or celebrating. Shock was the only feeling. Shock followed by a grim foreboding.

  Gillespie walked into the house with a couple of his men. Joleen Riley emerged from wherever she’d been hidden to meet with Gillespie.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “This is pay back,” he said, smiling, his old brown face full of sweat and vengeance. He walked into the room holding Eva, Dan, Brodski and Georgiev. “I told you didn’t I? I told you what I was capable of.” The old man turned back to the prisoners and roared at their backs as they were dragged out of sight. “I told you bastards not to mess with me. Now you’ll find out why!”

  “What are you going to do with them?” asked Eva.

  “Whatever the hell I like. This woman killed my Maggie. When I decide what I’m going to do, I’ll be doing it slowly, don’t you worry. Put your feet up. Chill out. Your problem is almost over.”

  Brian Gillespie disappeared in pursuit of the victims. Eva turned to find Dan looking at her. They didn’t need to say a word. Their eyes said it all. On several levels this whole situation didn’t feel good. It was a powder keg and it was ready to blow. Brodski broke the awkward silence first.

  “We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” Brodski was sweating harder than Gillespie.

  Screams filled the air less than fifteen minutes after the prisoners arrived. First there was a screech, a very female scream which started low and got louder and deeper. Eva could only guess what kind of torture would cause that scream. Soon after came a guttural throat tearing scream, the male version. They made Eva feel sick. This was out of hand. Eva had spent her whole life trying to undo wrongs, and until the mess with Maggie Gillespie she’d done a decent job. Now she was listening to torture and there was nothing she could do. Or that’s how it felt. The female scream sounded again, but it was cut short with some other brutal sounds. Eva’s gut was twisting inside. She couldn’t bear it.

  “Dan? This isn’t right.”

  Dan nodded. “But that woman was going to kill you.”

  “I wanted to stay alive. That was all.”

  Dan nodded curtly and looked at the Russian boys. Georgiev was listening to their conversation. Brodski was not so engaged. He looked scared. “You in?”

  “In on what?” said the tall man, smiling. He knew what they meant.

  Dan went to the door and peered out. The short guy was standing in another doorway, peering in like he was watching sport on TV. When he saw Dan he made a screwed up face and started walking towards them.

  “What do you want?” said the short guy.

  “Another plate of sandwiches. Fresh cut with a salad garnish on the side and a bottle of ice cold lemonade.”

  “Yeah, and I’d like a holiday to the Seychelles. Hard cheese.”

  The short man liked throwing his slight weight around in the security of Gillespie and Riley’s little kingdom. But security was always an illusion. He got within ten feet of Dan when Dan lunged forward and pulled him towards his chest, then he dragged him into their own room and closed the door. Dan threw him down, and as the man scrabbled up gabbling about what he was going to do, Dan dropped a long straight punch through his face. The little man went down unconscious. Eva knelt down and took his gun. She handed it to Dan.

  “Here. You like these things.”

  “Not little toy guns like that. Let him keep it.”

  Dan dropped the gun onto the little man’s belly. Another wave of screams sounded down the hallway tearing through the silence.

  “That’s it. Let’s go.”

  Eva,
Dan and Georgiev walked down the hallway towards the door the short man had been guarding. Slaps and crunches were coming from below. The screaming had stopped. Eva stepped into the room and found a bright room with a desk with another open door leading into a grey space, a workman like place with bare concrete walls. Tension and fear surged up along the nape of her neck. She was unarmed. Maybe Dan should have led after all… but she didn’t want to change position now, not when they were so close.

  Just before Eva reached the grey space, a shadow spilled out of the doorway. The shadow was big and wide. As he emerged Eva saw he was familiar. A split second later Eva was in fight or flight mode, her nervous system zinging with the realisation that this was none other than the man she’s seen in Rendon and at the bridge. It was Kropotkin’s assistant. Trevor hadn’t killed him after all… and now he was free. The man saw her and smiled a wide, confident smile. “It’s good to see you, Miss Roberts.”

  Dan burst past Eva and unleashed a volley of punches at the big man but he was fast and blocked each of them. The fight rolled back past the doorway further down the corridor. Georgiev shouted in Russian, and sprinted to help Dan. Eva’s head was full of questions. Looking at Brodski, she saw a mirror image of her own fears. “Back up now. Come on!” she ordered him. Brodski snapped out of it, and started wheeling around to go back when Eva heard a voice she hoped she’d never hear again.

  “Eva. How are you?”

  She looked back because there was no choice. Anna Kropotkin stood in the hallway. There was a gash on her forehead and a thin trickle of blood flowed from the corner of her lip. She dabbed them away with the bandage on her injured hand.

  “Anna Kropotkin.”

  “It’s one of a few names I like to use. Meaningless and interchangeable. I am the woman you see, but never a name.”

  “How did you escape?”

  “Escape? This was a trap for them, not us. We are the trap. And with you here, the deal is complete. Delicious, yes?”

  The woman moved forward and Eva moved back. She wished she’d kept the gun. Brodski – maybe he had something.