by Matt Hilton
The fat man jabbed the rolled paper into Cain’s chest. ‘You coming in your pants at the thought of that, you sick fuck?’
Cain’s left hand snapped on to the exposed wrist. He pulled, snaring the man’s thumb so that it was held tightly to the rolled paper. His other hand merely caressed the bulging flesh where wrist became hand. The movement was so subtle that at first the fat man did not realise what had happened. Only when he saw the blood pouring along his forearm did he try to snatch his hand away. Cain let it go, and watched as the man’s goggle-eyed incredulity centred on the lifeless thumb hanging alongside his palm.
‘Jesus Christ! What the fuck have you done to me?’
Cain said, ‘Severed both the abductor pollicis brevis and longus tendons. You’ll find you can still wiggle your thumb, but you’ll never make a fist again. It will, I’m afraid, impede the manner in which you seek “inspiration” in future.’
The man looked again at the pinkish ends of the tendons poking from his opened flesh, then up at Cain. His mouth was open, and Cain realised he’d lost him. Just too many long words. To clarify, he mimed the sex act of manual self-gratification.
The fat man’s hand was limp, and to prove the point the magazine fluttered from his grasp. He watched it hit the floor, then followed the lines of Cain’s body all the way up to where he held the Tanto. Cain waved the knife. ‘You still have one working hand. Are you going to put it to good use and go fetch the woman something to eat and drink?’
The fat man suddenly shrieked: his voice high like a little girl’s. Lurching around the chair, he grabbed at the exit door he’d been guarding. His instinct was to go for the handle with his right hand, but it had become a hindrance. Wide-eyed he cast frantic glances at Cain, then tore open the door with his left and fled up a second corridor. Cain doubted he’d be coming back. He snorted at the man’s fleeing back, then went to peer through the hatch at Jennifer.
‘I’m having something to eat and drink brought for you,’ he said.
Jennifer didn’t reply, but he saw her eyes flashing in the dim light. She finally sat up. Her gaze had never left his. ‘Where are my children? If you’ve harmed them…’
‘They’re safe,’ Cain said. ‘I didn’t touch them.’
‘You left them all alone?’
‘I did. But I trust that they’ll have been collected by now. As soon as John arrives, you will be released and you can see them again.’
‘John won’t come.’ Her words were like a mantra.
‘Oh, I’m sure he will.’
‘No.’ Jennifer struggled up from the floor, still unsteady from the residual effects of the drugs he’d administered. She approached the door, her hands fisted at her sides. She thrust out her jaw and said again, ‘John won’t come. But his brother Joe will.’
Cain stared into the woman’s eyes and believed her. ‘Won’t that be great? A nice little family reunion?’
‘Joe will make you sorry you ever came near me. He’ll tear your throat out.’
Cain touched the scar tissue on his neck. ‘He already tried that, but failed. This time I’ll show him how it’s really done.’
‘Joe will kill you, and I’ll spit on your body when he’s finished.’
‘Steady on, there,’ Cain laughed at her. ‘Don’t forget that I’m your only hope of getting out of here alive. I’m here to protect you. The fat guard… do you know what he’d do to you if I wasn’t here?’
Jennifer was no fool; she recognised the implications of the fat man coming into her cell unchaperoned. Her features slipped into open shock.
‘He comes to the door and… says things.’ Jennifer’s voice had lost its vitriol towards him.
‘I’ve punished him for that, Jennifer. He won’t bother you again.’
She nodded silently, wrapping her arms around her body.
‘Now, you should remember that when next you make threats,’ Cain went on. ‘I’m your only friend and protector. I’m the only one who’s having food and water brought to you.’
‘It won’t mean a thing when Joe gets here.’
‘Then I’ll just have to show him how misguided he is.’ He jiggled the point of his knife in the air, grinning as he mimed cutting a throat. Cain halted the charade on hearing the clatter of feet in the outer gangway. He slid the blade out of sight. ‘I’m just going to close this flap for a little while, OK? There are some others who may need putting in their place.’
He closed the steel flap over the slot and slipped a bolt across. Walking back along the short corridor, he timed it so that he met the group of men just as they were about to storm through the bulwark door at the end. There were three of them, two of whom he already knew. One was the driver who’d helped him transport Jennifer here from the airport, the other a tall Russian with steel-coloured hair and eyes the shade of a Siberian winter sky. Cain had been introduced to Grodek as the captain of this ship when he’d boarded. He did not at first know the third man.
‘Cain,’ the stranger said, eyeing him up and down. ‘It looks like I got here just in time.’
Cain recognised the voice from having conversed regularly with him in the past day or so. ‘You did?’
‘The name’s Baron.’
‘I know who you are. You’re the one that allowed Joe Hunter and Jared Rington to escape.’ Cain appraised the man. He was shorter, and slighter of build, than the others but there was a detachment about him that appealed to Cain. Not much, though.
‘That was Sigmund Petoskey’s fault. He allowed his defences to drop and Hunter managed to take him hostage.’
‘And Kurt Hendrickson’s death?’
‘Nothing I could do about that.’
‘Joe Hunter outsmarted you again, huh?’
Baron smiled whimsically, and Cain could feel the man’s gaze caress the scar on his throat. ‘The way I’ve heard the story told, you weren’t so successful against Joe Hunter either.’
Cain returned the smile. The two men were like a viper studying its reflection in a mirror, ready to sink in its fangs the second it found an opening.
‘Looks like we have something in common, then.’
‘Not to mention a common enemy.’
Grodek stepped forward, and Cain noted the gun in the man’s big fist. His own hand, concealed by his hip, still held the Tanto. Yet neither man made a play with their weapons. Grodek merely used his to point out the splashes of blood on the floor. ‘I made a deal with Hendrickson. I agreed to extend my hospitality and resources to you, Baron. But that did not include allowing this maniac to injure my men. Brady’s hand has been crippled.’
‘Didn’t Hendrickson warn you? He should have. Cain slaughtered one of his men at their first meeting.’
‘Aah, yes, my old pal Getz,’ Cain said, recalling the incident. ‘Maybe killing him was a little extreme, but I had a point to prove. I am happy to go on proving myself if necessary.’
Grodek made a noise that sounded like Paaah!
‘That fat pig — Grady, was it? — is arranging food and drink for our guest?’ Cain asked.
‘Our guest? We should kill her now before things get even further out of control,’ Grodek snapped.
Baron laid a hand on the Russian’s wrist, making the bigger man lower his weapon. ‘You promised that you would help.’
‘I promised Kurt Hendrickson, but he is dead. So is my promise.’
Cain merely tilted his head, as though listening to distant music.
Baron lifted the tails of his jacket and shirt, showing a large dressing bandaged to his right side. ‘I took a bullet for Hendrickson. Alive or dead, I think he owes me. I think you do also, Captain.’
‘I owe you?’
‘Yes. Your allegiance. I have taken charge of our boss’s interests, one of which is the smuggling operation you are involved in.’
Cain listened to the exchange as though unconcerned. He’d changed his mind: Baron was an asshole. But there was still something about him that Cain could work with.
&n
bsp; Baron’s watery gaze shifted from Grodek to Cain. ‘We all owe each other our allegiance. It’s the only way we can finish what was started.’
Cain sheathed his knife. ‘Then we’d best get on with it. Grodek, take me to the comms room. It’s time I contacted the man protecting John Telfer.’
Grodek shook his head. ‘No, Cain. I am finished with this. My deal was with Kurt Hendrickson, not either of you. There’s no way I’ll be paid for my trouble, so I’ll have to recoup my losses another way. The woman,’ he gesticulated along the corridor, ‘she belongs to me now. If I cannot get a good price for her, I’ll give her to Brady as compensation for his hand.’
‘Your fat friend would enjoy that,’ Cain said. ‘But I’m afraid it’s not going to happen.’
‘Don’t forget who is in charge here,’ Grodek snapped as he lifted the gun. ‘I say what happens on my ship.’
‘I can see that might be a problem,’ Cain said.
‘No problem for me. I will have my crew remove you. Do you think yourself strong enough to swim all the way to port?’
‘How far from port are we?’
‘A couple miles,’ Baron offered.
‘Then no,’ Cain said. ‘But it’s far enough out to offload some unnecessary cargo.’
Grodek sneered. ‘You mean the woman? I told you I have new plans for her.’
‘No, not Jennifer,’ Cain said. ‘I meant you.’
He struck lightning fast, his Bowie knife whipping up and under the Russian’s chin before the man could think about aiming his gun. The tip of the knife sank through flesh without a whisper, but the hilt jamming against his jaw produced a thud that echoed the length of the corridor. Cain held the ship’s captain on the end of his blade until all life had fled. It took only seconds, then he allowed the blade to dip and the man to slide off.
Baron took a half-step backwards, his fingers edging towards a gun on his belt. The driver swore gutturally, but his hands stayed in plain sight. Cain brought up his other hand, showed the Tanto. A simple lunge would put it through Baron’s chest. Baron lifted his hands and showed whose side he was on with a less than puissant smile. ‘I meant what I said about working together.’
‘Looks like a mutiny is in order, eh, gentlemen?’ Cain said. ‘Some of the crew might not be pleased about their sudden change of captain. Shall we go together and show them how to walk the plank?’
Baron touched his injured side. ‘I owe Joe Hunter for this, and I guess if I’m ever going to get revenge, it will mean sticking with you.’
The driver was one of Hendrickson’s men, not Grodek’s. Still, witnessing the Russian’s death had thrown him into flux over where his loyalties lay. He was sinking fast. ‘Can you cook?’ Cain asked.
The driver blinked his incredulity. Then, realising he’d just been offered a lifeline, he nodded.
‘Good.’ Cain bent and wiped his Bowie clean on Captain Grodek’s trousers. ‘You can feed the woman. I don’t think that fat-assed Brady will be coming back.’
Chapter 36
‘I thought I was doing this on my own.’
I was wrong about that, and I was wrong about why Walter had rung me.
Cain hadn’t yet been in touch to organise an exchange of hostages. Walter had summoned me to his cabin because he wanted to set the terms of another deal, this one with me. I wasn’t entirely happy about it, but neither could I see how I could refuse him.
We were in the room where Bryce Lang died, and it was a less than subtle manipulation I could have done without. However, Walter was in charge and there was nothing I could do about it except walk out and force the others to follow. It still felt like an abattoir in there, despite having been thoroughly cleaned, disinfected and the stained upholstery shrouded in plastic sheets. But I stayed. At least Imogen had been spared the reek of chemicals that failed to mask the undercurrent of slaughter. She’d been whisked away to a safe location, carrying with her a promise that I’d join her as soon as I was finished. It had struck me when Brigham and another younger agent had been her chaperones this time, that there was more to Hartlaub staying behind than met the eye.
‘It’s still a deniable operation, but Hartlaub is going to accompany you. We feel there should be certain controls in place.’ Walter was sitting in a shrouded plastic chair but I couldn’t bring myself to join him; I just stood at the centre of the room with my hands jammed in my pockets. The plastic crinkled as he lifted a hand. ‘Hartlaub is going to accompany you. It’s the only way we could see to stop all the shit from falling on your shoulders. If Hartlaub is along for the ride, and you’re just a civilian who helps him in pursuit of his duty, then where’s the blame going to finally stop?’
‘That’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,’ I said.
‘On the surface it sounds pretty lame, I’ll give you that, but buried in a classified report, it’ll suffice to keep your goddamn ass out of prison. Why are you being so ungrateful?’
‘I’m not ungrateful, Walter. I’m trying to figure out your real motive. The last time I was sent after Cain, the bastard’s life was saved. Is Hartlaub coming along to make sure he’s saved this time too?’
Walter stood up surprisingly fast for a man of his bulk, and the plastic was sucked up by the vacuum. It settled slowly as Walter took three solid steps towards me. ‘What are you saying, Hunter? That I’d protect Cain over you?’
I just met his purpling face with a cool expression, and that incited him all the more.
‘Son of a bitch! Did you see what that murderous piece of shit did here? He dismembered my oldest friend, took parts of his skeleton as trophies. Jesus fucking Christ! Do you think I want to see that bastard sent back to prison? I’d love to come along and watch you tear his fucking heart out! I’d tear it out myself if I was able!’ His language, not to mention the force with which it was delivered, surprised me. It took him off-guard too. Walter staggered and by the way he grasped at his chest I feared that his rage had brought on a heart attack. I reached out to steady him, but he threw my hands aside. He stood, gulping air, trying to calm himself. ‘You have a job to do, Hunter. But you’re there to save Jennifer first and kill Cain second. No… don’t deny it. That’s your priority, and I can understand that. I’m sending Hartlaub to make sure that Cain does not survive this time.’
Hartlaub and I shared a glance. I looked back at my old mentor and found him digging in his shirt pocket. He plucked out a cigar, and without preamble jammed it between his teeth. He’d said what he was going to say on the subject, and I’d have to like it or lump it. I was still going after Cain, and if that meant that Hartlaub accompanied me then so be it. I lifted my hands to signify surrender.
Walter was right. My priority was to get Jennifer away from Cain and if Cain escaped while I was otherwise engaged then that’s the way it would be. I’d prefer to kill the son of a bitch myself, but if Hartlaub got to him first then I could live with that. My only regret was that I’d sent Harvey away. I’d rather it was him or Rink accompanying me. Still, I recalled when I first met Hartlaub and had judged him as a warrior to be admired. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad with him watching my back.
I offered him my hand. ‘Nothing personal, mate.’
He unfolded his arms, stuck out his hand and we shook. ‘I know.’
‘Thanks for saving Imogen, as well. I owe you one.’
Hartlaub shrugged. ‘I was just the driver. Brigham did all the wet work.’
Walter had transferred the cigar to his fingers. ‘Are you two all made up now, because we’ve more important things to be getting on with?’
‘We’re good,’ I confirmed.
He returned to his seat and the plastic crackled as he sat. He frowned at the other furniture in the room, likely thinking he’d have to replace everything. However clean it appeared on the surface it was still drenched with the blood of his murdered friend. Personally I’d have dumped it all in a huge pile outside and set it on fire. No, scratch that. I’d have torched the building
.
Walter stuffed his cigar between his teeth, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. ‘You asked me to bring John in. Well, I’m finding that difficult. He’s under the protection of the US Marshals and I haven’t been able to find a good enough reason for them to release him into my custody.’ Walter sneaked a glance at Hartlaub, but I didn’t miss it. When I glanced the CIA agent’s way, he was studying his feet. Without missing a beat, Walter continued. ‘So, your plan to use him to draw out Cain must be put on the back burner. If it comes to it, I’ll pull rank and demand John’s attendance but for now we will concentrate on freeing Jennifer without him.’
‘I never intended placing him in harm’s way. I just wanted Cain to hear his voice,’ I said. ‘Surely you can have him brought to the other end of a phone?’
‘Yes, yes, if it becomes necessary. But let’s concentrate on what we can do without him.’
‘What’s going on, Walt?’
‘We’re planning on taking down Tubal Cain, that’s what’s going on.’
‘You act edgy every time I mention John.’
‘Because we’ve more urgent business to contend with, that’s why. Now… can we plan on how we intend to kill this bastard or not?’
‘Make all the plans you want, Walter. You can come get me when you’re done.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going to take a shower. It stinks in here.’
The room wasn’t the only thing that stank. So did Walter’s lies, and the more I tried to make sense of them, the more they made me feel sick to the core.
Trying to expunge the nausea, I spent some time under a hot shower in the stall at the back of the cabin. Soap and shampoo didn’t help, so I turned the dial to its lowest setting and cleansed myself with its icy chill. When I was done, I found the roughest towel I could get my hands on and practically flagellated myself with it, like I was paying penance. I dumped my sweats and dressed in my spares, settling my weapons about my body. For a moment I considered walking away. If what I suspected was true then I wondered why I was still involved. But the thought was fleeting. Jennifer was in peril, and therefore I was going to do everything I could to save her.
