On Borrowed Time

by Solomon Carter

  “Where is the old man? If I can kill him as well, victory would be complete.”

  “I thought he was…”

  “With us? No. His idiots were trying to torture us. Very amateurish. Very weak. You can stop running now, Eva. This is the end.”

  Impossible. She worried about Dan. She could still hear the fighting going on further down the corridor. The slaps and punches. The thuds against the wall. No, as tired as she was, as beaten as she felt, Eva had to battle on. But how could she fight a machine like the woman before her?

  “Gillespie!” Eva shouted “The prisoners are free. They’re out!”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed with irritation. “He won’t save you. He would just as soon kill you as I would, you fool.”

  Kropotkin tensed and surged forward towards Eva. There were two loud thunderclaps, and the wooden floorboards between Kropotkin and Eva tore up and splinted into the air. Kropotkin leapt away like a cat.

  Up above on the first floor behind a wooden bannister, the old man stood with his gun drawn.

  “You got that wrong. I’d kill you first every time.”

  “I came here for you,” said Kropotkin.

  “Do I look scared?” said the old man. He aimed and fired, but Kropotkin was fast. As she dived out of harm’s way she moved for Eva. Eva saw Kropotkin’s good hand reaching for a weapon at her waist. Gillespie’s gunfire kept her low. Before the woman could hurt her, Eva took advantage of the height differential and kicked the woman as hard as she could in the jaw. A string of blood flew from her mouth and the woman groaned and fell back. Brodski was in range. His eyes widened and a mad smile crawled across his face. Eva could read him well. He was terrified of the killer, mad with fear, but now he saw his chance to finish her before she could hurt him. He stepped forward once and raised his left boot ready to stomp on her head, to crush it into the ground. The man grunted and dropped his leg. But as it dropped, the woman was already up on one knee. She smashed a fist upwards into the man’s crotch. A curtain of red dropped from Brodski as she swiped her fist away. In her hand, Eva saw a knife covered in shining blood. Brodski howled and screamed and Eva wish she was able to put him out of his misery. From a wound like that, the man was going to bleed to death. Kropotkin turned away from Brodski as he fell, and stood up to face Eva. The woman was feral now, wild-eyed, breathing heavily.

  “No you don’t.” Eva shifted and saw past the woman. Dan was behind her further down the corridor, his pistol arm outstretched.

  “If you shoot me, you could kill Miss Roberts.”

  Dan nodded. “Fair point. But what about him?”

  Upstairs, Gillespie had taken aim. She looked up just in time, as the shot sounded. The woman leaped again. Eva read Kropotkin’s move and side-stepped, pressing herself against the wall. Kropotkin had passed by, and she was unharmed. Brodski was still howling. Dan walked towards Brodski slowly, but before he got there, Brodski stopped screaming. A thunderclap and a bullet through his head sent him silent. Full of anger, Dan looked upwards.

  “He was dead anyway,” said Gillespie with a shrug. “I’ve made some calls and some help is coming.”

  The gunfire and screams had provided enough of a distraction for them to lose Kropotkin. The front door of the house was open and swinging. But the house was big enough to hide in and Eva wasn’t about to get complacent.

  “She’s still here, I swear it,” said Eva. She looked up at Gillespie. “She’s not going to leave here until she’s killed us both.”

  Gillespie’s eyes met with Eva’s. Even past the dead droopy eyelids she could see a new kind of spark in them. Was this the first time…? Yes, she thought it was. This was the first time Eva had ever seen fear in Brian Gillespie’s eyes.

  Twenty-two

  They searched Riley’s house first. They checked all the spaces a person could possibly use to hide and then they checked the least likely. The house was clear. The short guy wasn’t too happy to have been knocked for six by Dan, but after a brief bitching session with a red face, Gillespie told him to shut up before Riley had the chance. Kropotkin was still alive. Nothing had yet been accomplished, and after a fearful night locked together in their own room by choice, Dan, Eva and Georgiev sat in their shared room looking tired and without any sign of refreshment. It was just after six am Thursday morning, and the sky outside was still deep black.

  “If this doesn’t end today I’m going to die of sleep deprivation before that bitch gets me.”

  “It’s going to end today.”

  “If not they will finish tomorrow. We should call in to Quinn and see if he knows where she is,” said Eva. Georgiev sniffed in a way which irritated her. Dan smiled less haughtily. There was affection in his eyes.

  “Quinn is an unreliable source. He’s a spook. He’ll tell us anything we want to hear so long as Her Majesty’s Government get the result which best suits their selfish interests.”

  “He helped us…”

  “No. He helped us into a trap and then he let us go. Why? Not because of some sentimental reason. I think he used us and he’s using us now.”

  Eva blinked in an effort to clear her tiredness. From the look on her face it didn’t work.

  “I don’t think I can deal with anymore running, Dan. Honestly, I’ve had it.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  “Are you sure? Think about it. As soon as Anna Kropotkin dies – if she dies before me – then I become a target for Brian Gillespie again. He hasn’t forgotten what I did to his wife.”

  “No… but he’ll need to get through me before he can do anything to you.”

  He saw her face brighten as she turned to him. He saw a flash of her youthful face, the years stripped away, and remembered the intensity of her beauty. She was a special girl back then. He hoped he could give her hope. He hoped he could bring her enough peace to restore her health and vigour once more. He would do whatever it took to do that. He knew he would even give his life for that.

  “Thank you, Dan. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me this time. And every other time.”

  “Don’t do your big closing speech yet, honey. The show must go on. But not for you right now, you need to rest.”

  Eva looked about to protest. Dan put a finger to her lips. Georgiev started to look awkward and looked away, and stood to look out of the window into the courtyard.

  “She killed Brodski. Most of the others are dead now… I can’t rest until she’s dead,” Georgiev muttered to the window pane.

  “Neither will I. We already know where she will go. We can track her down from Shad Thames or the city. It will only be a matter of waiting her out, and I can wait all day if I have to.”

  Georgiev turned and Dan saw the lines on his face. His face was powdery and dry as if all the life was leaving it. Georgiev looked desperate, barely able to contain his emotion. It was time to go.

  “Eva… I will come back for you, okay? I will come back to tell you this is over, and when I do, we’re going to walk away from here to celebrate.” He waited, watching Eva’s blinking eyes.

  “Do you believe me, Eva? Just say you believe me.”

  “I believe you, Dan. Please be careful. They have such power behind them.”

  “Do I look worried?” he looked into each of her eyes and waited for her to look back into his. He saw a flutter of doubt and fear in her eyes, and then he felt her settle. She believed him. But only because he was such a good liar when it came to bravado. Dan was terrified because she was right. The odds against them were simply immense.

  “Come on. I want to talk to short stuff before we make our move.”

  Georgiev nodded.

  “Goodbye, Eva. Rest, please.”

  “I’ll rest when the time comes.”

  Georgiev left the room first. Dan squeezed Eva’s hand and looked into her eyes. He turned to leave then Eva pulled him back, and kissed him firmly on the lips. The sensation this time was different than those brief liaisons they’d enjoyed since his retur
n. He felt passion, fire and fear surging from her lips into his. He gratefully accept the kiss then kissed her forehead as he broke apart. He bid her farewell with a barely perceptible nod, and shut the door. He took a closed-eyed moment to catch his breath, then hurried because Georgiev was waiting. It was almost time to go.

  Short stuff was sitting in the room downstairs where he had imprisoned Eva and Dan with sandwiches and water. He sat in the dark watching a re-run of the Bigfoot and the Hendersons TV series. He wore a smile on his face and was cackling at the screen. Then he saw Dan, and the smile fell apart.

  “What do you want, you son of a bitch?”

  “Where’s the old man?”

  “Do I care?”

  “Do you want a broken nose?” said Dan.

  The short guy slowly shook his head.

  “Then you care. Tell me, have you checked the block across the courtyard.”

  “Fiztpatrick House? We checked it as far as we could.”

  “Oh. I don’t like the sound of that. Are you paid by the hour, short stuff? Do you even care whether your employer lives or dies?”

  “You arrogant…”

  “It’s a pertinent question, dick weed. If you didn’t check that building with a fine-toothed comb then you must be some kind of fool. That woman is a professional assassin. How thoroughly did you check that building?”

  “As thoroughly as we needed to. Only the tenants have access to the living quarters. Only the businesses have access to the business units. The woman could only have had access to the common areas. We checked everywhere, just like in here. The woman is long gone.”

  Dan shook his head and looked at Georgiev. “I hope they’re paying you the hourly rate you deserve.”

  The short guy was about to hurl a string of expletives when Dan interrupted again.

  “What about her accomplice?”

  “The fat guy? He’s dead.”

  “How dead?”

  “The boys got carried away. His head came off. He’s pretty dead.”

  Dan and Georgiev exchanged another look.

  “Can you just humour me one moment,” asked Dan.

  “Humour you? Are you serious?”

  “Just come outside and show me where you looked in that building. Just point it out. Show me where you didn’t look as well.”

  “I’m watching this show!”

  “And I’m watching you. Do you like your nose?” said Dan.

  The short guy grunted and stood up, hauling his jacket on over his raised arms and shoulders.

  “I don’t like you, man. I really don’t like you.”

  “That’s a shame. We could be such great friends.”

  The short guy opened the door into the dark morning and stepped out onto the cobbles. There was a breeze, but mostly they heard the sounds of the long started morning. The sounds of cars rushing, car horns blaring and people shouting from across on Holloway Road. “Here,” said the man, pointing at the back face of Fitzpatrick House. “The ground floor, that’s all checked. All of it, every millimetre. Out the front, we have access, so we checked the retail spaces. From the first to the upper floors, we have limited access. I checked all the public areas, all the storage and cleaning cupboards. That’s all done. But the upper units, no, we don’t have access. But we would have heard if there was an intruder, wouldn’t we? It stands to reason.”

  “It stands to your reason, punk. It doesn’t stand to any reason of mine.”

  “Why don’t you go and…” the short man didn’t finish his sentence because a shadow reached out and plunged a blade into his temple, and withdrew it clean. The door behind Dan slammed shut. He watched the short man’s face glaze over and then his body fall to the floor. Dan turned in panic, then half of his panic abated. The woman was on the doorstep facing him. His worst fear was that she had stolen into the house and locked him out. At least facing the woman like this gave him half a chance. Nothing more, but Dan was glad to take his half a chance.

  “He was stupid, like you said. I couldn’t listen to him another moment,” she said. Dan heard the eclectic mix of her accents, part Russian, part American all mixed up in a husky tone of voice. If she wasn’t so damn lethal this woman would have been beautiful. Dan saw how such powerful men had succumbed to her. But they were fools. Sleeping with a woman like this was like sleeping with a Praying Mantis. At any time she could have turned around and torn your head off.

  “You’re always disappearing. Are you going to do it again?” said Dan.

  “Not immediately. I need to conclude business before tomorrow. Being here is such an opportunity, how could I leave until it was done?”

  “You know I can’t let you harm Eva Roberts.”

  The woman smiled and her eyes flashed at him. She was a fighter and she knew the confrontation was coming. He knew the type. He remembered them well.

  “I know. You’re the final barrier, Mr Bradley. So I’m going to cut you down.”

  “You’re going to lose, Anna,” said Georgiev.

  The woman scrunched up her face and swore in Russian. She spat a glistening bullet of spit at Georgiev and it landed on his boot.

  “She’s not so pretty sometimes, I think,” said Georgiev, taunting the woman. Dan eyed him once then got his attention back onto Kropotkin. Georgiev was a dissident, a thinker and a rebel. He was able to fight better than Obstov could, but Georgey was still no fighter. Georgey had a plan here.

  “We heard you! You slut, sucking Dobcek, and throwing yourself at every scumbag in this mess. At The Daily, In Dobcek’s penthouse, and with Henry Jameson in Tower Hamlets. At first we thought you were a hooker, not a killer.” Georgiev emitted a mirthless laughter, dressing up his fear in bravado.

  “You bastard traitor,” said the woman in English. “Death to those who betray Russia!”

  The woman moved down away from the front door and walked towards Georgiev, who took several steps back. Then she jumped at him with a flying kick. Georgiev blocked it. Dan saw the intention for the follow-up stabbing, and threw a fast punch through the side of her body, knocking her off balance. The woman lost her footing and tumbled past her target. But she was faster than Dan knew. As she fell, she tossed the blade into her other hand and drove it into Georgiev’s belly just by his hip bone. Her weight pulled her down, and with it the knife pulled at Georgiev’s side until it came free with a slice and a gout of blood shot into the darkness. Dan heard the splash hit the cobbles.

  “Georgey! Get down and press your fist into that wound! Do you hear me? Press that wound tightly.”

  The woman was down in a catlike pose, her knife raised, her teeth gritted. He knew Eva would be watching him from the upstairs window now. He felt other lights come on in the house behind him, but he could not afford to take a single look back if he was to survive. Georgiev had a strategy, he knew that. But it hadn’t played out well for him. But then, it was still a strategy Dan had employed in the ring years before. Make your opponent angry, and wait for them to lose their concentration. It hadn’t panned out well for Georgiev, but maybe it could work better for him. What the hell…

  “You know, I think Georgiev has got a point. Just how many men do you do in one day?”

  “As many as I can kill,” said Kropotkin. “And you’re next.”

  She launched up to attack, and it was all Dan could do to punch her knife wielding arm before it struck him. The woman was lethal. And Dan was the last line of defence…

  Twenty-three

  From the upper window Eva saw the woman all but gut Georgiev and now she saw the woman attacking Dan. She fought like a monster, full of power and controlled aggression. She knew Dan was shouting at her and baiting her, but Eva saw they had never come upon a killer like this woman before. She was in a league far beyond Dan in power and technique. Dan parried another attack as the woman leapt up from the floor and swiped at him with her knife. Dan dodged back and forth, moving to block the woman in rapid-fire moves. He managed it, but she saw Dan was struggling to match
her pace and power. Soon she would wear him out, and he would be cut down. Already she saw his fetching new coat was in tatters, shredded by the blade. She could not stand it. She would never lose him again, because if she did, Eva knew she would lose the will to live. Not because she was pathetic, not because she couldn’t live without a man, but because they had loved so much and suffered so much together, she knew she could not be without him any longer. Such a life would not make sense. She saw Dan stumble, and blinked at the sight in case she was about to witness Dan’s final moment, but he kicked up at the woman, winding her and sending her sprawling. He had survived another moment. Eva opened the door to her quarters and started shouting.

  “She’s here! The killer is outside! Do something!”

  Those who remained in the house moved, the floorboards creaked, the stairwell groaned under shifting weight. “Here?!” said Gillespie, half dressed with his shirttails out over his trousers. His face was haggard and tired, more than usual. “I sent the boys to the city to wait her out. We’re down to the bare bones here. Joleen? Who have you got here?”

  The woman appeared beside him, already in full dress, an unflattering white and grey suit. She was already smoking too, tendrils of cigarette smoke swirling all around her.

  “Malcolm. Digby, and Pat. That’s it.”

  “The short one?” said Eva.

  “Malcolm.”

  “He’s dead. He’s out in the courtyard. She killed him.”

  Now the woman looked worried, and the answer was a long drag on her cigarette.

  “Please. We’ve got to do something. If Dan dies, we’re all dead.”

  The old man nodded. “All I need is thirty seconds. I’ll be back.”

  The old man rushed out past Riley, who stood staring at Eva as she smoked.

  “She will kill you too,” said Eva, appealing to the flat hard face of the gangster woman.

  “I’ve faced death before, sweetheart. I survived. I don’t panic anymore.”