No Place to Hide

by Dan Latus

  Jake grinned. He had to concede the point. The truck looked in worse shape than the one he had left behind in the Algarve.

  ‘Well, Nicci, Fogarty is looking for it. So he doesn’t have it. We found what was left of Fat Freddie, and, believe me, if he’d had it, he would have said so long before Fogarty finished working on him. I pity the others if they didn’t have it.’

  ‘And it’s not you, Jake?’

  ‘Me?’ Jake chuckled and shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t have signed up to help look for it if I had it, would I?’

  ‘Then maybe it doesn’t exist. Maybe there is no missing twenty million.’

  ‘Maybe. But in that case, why does Fogarty believe there is?’

  Neither of them had an answer to that question, not one that settled the matter. But they spent quite a while going all over it again, and again.

  ‘Then there’s the Czechs,’ Jake added, introducing a whole new dimension to the discussion. ‘This guy Kunda.’

  ‘What do you know about him?’ Nicci asked suspiciously.

  ‘Not much. But I’ve met him.’

  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘It’s a long story. Suffice to say, he’s looking for the missing money, as well. He’s also looking for you and me.’

  Nicci swore under his breath. That revelation seemed to worry him more than anything else he’d heard so far.

  ‘But you’ve seen no sign of trouble?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Nothing, nobody.’

  Jake nodded. He must have got here first for once. Otherwise Nicci wouldn’t still be alive.

  Not that it made much difference. A waste of time, really. Nicci had already known about Fogarty, and he didn’t have the money. Forget it, he thought despondently. All of it. He’d have been better off trying to find a way to take the battle to Fogarty.

  A little later Jake realized it was growing dark, darker than it should have been at that time of day in September. He stopped what he was saying and looked around uneasily.

  ‘There’s a storm coming,’ Nicci said. ‘Let’s go to the flat.’

  ‘What flat?’

  ‘I keep a little place in the village. Just a couple of rooms for when I’m too tired, or too drunk, to go back to the farm.’

  Jake nodded. The light was strange now, a sort of yellow initially that was moving towards sepia. It was eerie.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Nicci said with a shrug.

  It seemed to be more than that. Looking around, Jake noticed that the other people in the café were not treating it as nothing. The two men who had been drinking beer got up and left. They jumped into a truck across the street and roared away. A young couple stood up from their table beneath the outside awning and stood looking anxiously along the street. The woman behind the counter, the wife of Nicci’s cousin, kept glancing at the window with a frown. Her husband, Andros, Nicci’s cousin, busy clearing tables, paused once or twice to look at the window or the doorway himself. He seemed perplexed.

  Thunder rolled, and from nowhere a gusty wind arrived to chase rubbish along the street. Cardboard boxes and empty drinks cartons tumbled along the road and were whisked high into the air. People in the street ducked their heads and rushed for cover. The light grew poorer. It became quite dim inside the café. Then the overhead light went out and after a few seconds, flickered back on again with much reduced power.

  A pickup truck swept along the street at speed, as if racing to keep ahead of the coming storm. The young couple left the shelter of the awning and trotted away, the woman clutching the man’s arm. The overhead light in the café went out again, and didn’t come back on this time.

  ‘Maybe we should go?’ Jake suggested, feeling restless and unaccountably troubled.

  Nicci shook his head. ‘Too late. The storm’s nearly here. We’re all right, though,’ he added. ‘Nothing’s going to happen here.’

  Jake wasn’t so sure about that. It was a rational response but his unease was still growing by the minute.

  ‘Come on, Nicci. Let’s go!’

  He stood up and dropped some notes on the table to pay for his lunch and their beer.

  ‘That’s too much,’ Nicci said, reaching out to push some of the money back at him.

  ‘What does it matter? Leave it!’ Jake snapped, grabbing his arm.

  Reluctantly, Nicci allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Jake pushed him towards the door. The woman behind the counter called something, a thank you probably, or perhaps a goodbye. Jake acknowledged her with a wave and steered Nicci out onto the street, where a violent wind blew dust into their faces and made them squint and duck their heads.

  ‘Which way?’

  Nicci pointed and started trudging along the street, heading into the wind. Jake glanced behind them and then set off to follow. None of this was good. He didn’t like any bit of it. The weather was only one thing. They also needed to be somewhere safe, not out in the open like this. There was no-one else on the street now. No vehicles, either. But he kept his head up as he went after Nicci.

  Forked lightning shot across the road ahead, followed by a cannonade of thunder that stopped him in his tracks. He looked around. The street was empty still. Lights to either side, but empty. A fusillade of rain, driven hard by the wind, suddenly hit him in the face. He ducked his head automatically, a reflex gesture, but brought it up again immediately to peer ahead. Vertical sheets of rain were now racing towards them, one after another, mixed with clouds of topsoil from the fields beyond the village and branches ripped from the trees that lined the road.

  Squinting into the gloom ahead, he suddenly saw two figures in the centre of the road, walking towards them. He reached out, grabbed Nicci’s arm, spun him round and dragged him to the side of the street and into the garden in front of a big, old house.

  Nicci found his voice and began to protest.

  ‘Shut up!’ Jake snapped, wrapping his hand over Nicci’s mouth.

  Chapter 48

  In the eerie gloom and shrieking wind, Jake kept Nicci still and quiet until the two figures had passed by. Then he got off his knees and pulled Nicci up after him. By then, Nicci had realized something was happening, and he made no protest as Jake hustled him through the shrubbery in the garden and out the other side.

  ‘Can we reach your flat without going back into the main street?’ Jake rasped, his voice hoarse with the dust in the air.

  Nicci nodded and led the way through a couple more gardens, and out into a back lane. Struggling against the wind, they kept going until they reached a hairdressing salon. To the side of it, a wrought-iron gate gave access to a flight of stone steps. Nicci opened the gate.

  That was when the wind faded and they were suddenly bathed in light again. The storm was nearly over, Jake realized, and they were returning to normal daytime. He paused and glanced around with relief and astonishment. There was even a hint of sunshine leaking through the rapidly thinning cloud cover. He glanced up at the window at the top of the steps as Nicci began to climb.

  ‘Wait!’ he hissed.

  Nicci spun round. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Somebody’s in the flat. I just saw the curtain move.’

  Nicci paused a moment and then shrugged. ‘It’ll just be my cousin’s girl, Elana. She does a bit of cleaning for me.’

  That didn’t satisfy Jake but Nicci wasn’t going to wait any longer. He started off up the steps, using the iron handrail for leverage. Uncertain, Jake followed him reluctantly. Nicci might be right, he knew. It was his place, after all.

  Nicci fished out his keys and started to fit one in the door lock. Jake stood to one side, tense as a spring. If something was going to go wrong, now would be a good time.

  The door swung open. Nicci was surprised and lost his balance, stumbling back against the balustrade.

  ‘Get inside!’

  A man stepped forward, gun in one hand, reaching for Nicci.

  Jake exploded. He grabbed the hand holding the gun with both of his own hands and swivelle
d his hip against the man in the doorway.

  Surprise was on his side. Three things happened. The gun came free in Jake’s clutch. The man lurched forward and cannoned into the balustrade. And Jake followed up by dipping his body and bringing his shoulder up sharply to smash into the man.

  Off balance, the man yelped, toppled backwards over the balustrade and disappeared. A dull thud told he’d arrived on the concrete patio below.

  A second man appeared in the doorway. Jake levelled the gun at him. The man slammed the door shut.

  Jake turned, grabbed Nicci and hustled him down the steps and out into the lane. A passing glance told him the guy who had fallen wouldn’t be getting up again. A broken neck meant his head had virtually separated from the rest of him.

  ‘My car’s close!’ Jake urged as they raced along the lane. ‘Just around the corner.’

  Nicci said nothing. He just ran, ran faster than Jake would have guessed was possible for him. They reached the car and threw themselves inside. Jake started the engine and they took off fast. The hail of bullets he half-expected didn’t come as they sped along the main street, navigating a way through the wreckage and rubbish left by the storm.

  ‘Where to?’ Jake asked once they had left the village behind.

  ‘The farm,’ Nicci said in a dull tone. ‘Keep going along here.’

  During the short journey, Nicci began to recover and find some of his old ebullience. ‘We’ll be OK at the farm,’ he said confidently.

  Jake wasn’t so sure about that. If Fogarty could find them in Tzermiado, he sure as hell could find them on some damned farm. It would just be a matter of time. Time, though, was what they needed. They had to get themselves sorted out.

  ‘Have you got any weapons at the farm, Nicci?’

  ‘Just a shotgun.’

  At least it was something, Jake thought with a grimace.

  ‘And I’ve got this pistol I just took off the guy back at your flat.’

  ‘You did well, Jake. Thanks.’

  ‘We got lucky. And I was expecting something.’

  ‘Well, they certainly took me by surprise,’ Nicci said ruefully. A few minutes later he added, ‘Here. Take this turning.’

  ‘This it?’

  ‘Yeah. Home sweet home.’

  Jake turned off the road and onto a gravelled track that ran towards a timber house a few hundred yards away across small flat fields.

  As they trundled over the farmland, Jake looked in vain for some redeeming feature in the landscape. Anything that might contribute to the house’s defences. There was nothing. Not a hill or a big rock, a river or a patch of woodland. Nothing. Nothing but a bunch of miserable little olive trees that weren’t much taller than the wheat he could see growing in a couple of the fields.

  ‘You on your own here, Nicci? Or do you have someone living with you?’

  ‘Just me. A couple of guys help me out in the fields but they don’t live here.’

  Jake nodded. Better in one way, but not so good in another. Nobody else to worry about, but nobody to give them a hand, either. They were on their own.

  ‘We’d better call the police,’ he said.

  Nicci shook his head. ‘None here, and the ones that would come from Heraklion wouldn’t be much more than traffic cops anyway.’

  That was probably right, Jake thought with a grimace. Same as the Algarve. These quiet, rural places were not equipped to deal with the likes of Fogarty. That being the case, he couldn’t see how they could stay here for longer than it took to catch their breath.

  ‘So we’re on our own,’ he said flatly.

  Nicci nodded agreement.

  Chapter 49

  They were wrong about that. They were not alone. Both men stopped, astonished, and stared at the figure sitting at the kitchen table.

  ‘Surprised to see me, Jake?’

  ‘How the hell did you get here?’ he asked, shaking his head.

  Magda smiled sweetly and said, ‘Hello, Nicci. How are you?’

  Nicci glowered at her and then stormed around the room, letting fly with what sounded like a long string of Cretan curses.

  It culminated with him rounding on Jake and demanding, ‘What’s she doing here?’

  Jake shrugged. ‘Beats me.’

  He was beginning to recover. His brain was picking up speed again. It didn’t matter how Magda had got here. She was here. That was all that mattered. Now they had more important things to think about.

  ‘Get your shotgun, Nicci. I’m going to see if we can hold out here.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Save it, Nicci. She’s no threat. We’re all going to be dead if we can’t figure out a way of holding Fogarty off when he comes.’

  ‘He might not come,’ Nicci said sullenly.

  ‘You know better than that, Nicci. Come on! Snap out of it. And you,’ he added, pointing a finger at Magda, ‘stay exactly where you are.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said sweetly, annoying him even more.

  He began his inspection. The kitchen was a fair size. A big family could have cooked and eaten in here, he thought, which was probably what used to happen. Small windows. That was good for reducing the ways a bullet could come in.

  Maybe it wouldn’t make much difference, though, he decided on second thoughts. It would be a poor, under-strength bullet that couldn’t rip through the timber walls of this old house.

  The parlour, or whatever Cretans called their posh room, was equally big, and had big windows on two sides. He frowned at that. Crossfire? On the other hand, it meant good visibility. The heavy, wooden furniture – a dresser and various cupboards – were promising. They looked as if they would give better protection from bullets than the walls of the house.

  A vividly coloured painting occupied the prestigious centre spot on one long wall. Jake looked at it for a moment. It looked like a human figure that had been broken into a thousand pieces, triangles and squares, each one a different colour. The figure had several eyes. Modern art. He shook his head, and wondered what it did for Nicci. Couldn’t be much. A bit less wall to paint, perhaps, when he got round to doing some decorating.

  The upstairs rooms all had windows, which meant that if you had enough manpower, you could keep good watch all around the house. The trouble was that they didn’t have that kind of manpower.

  He paused to take stock. Not good, he decided. The house would give very little protection. For an incoming crew armed with machine guns, it would be like shooting the proverbial rats in a barrel. In fact, the barrel would soon fall to bits if hit by serious bullets. They’d better get out.

  ‘Nicci, we can’t stay here.’

  ‘What do you mean we can’t stay here? This is my home!’

  ‘It’s indefensible, Nicci. When Fogarty’s people come, we won’t be able to keep them out. Not with one shotgun and a handgun. It can’t be done. They’ll just shoot the place to bits. We need to leave.’

  ‘Where would we go?’

  ‘I dunno,’ Jake said with exasperation. ‘Any bloody cave would do!’

  He calmed down.

  ‘What about your family? Don’t any of them have safer places than this? Even if they don’t, the extra manpower would be a help.’

  ‘I’ll phone my cousin. We can go there. She’ll help.’

  ‘Where does she live?’

  ‘Halkidiki.’

  Nicci disappeared into the parlour. Jake followed, to see Nicci dragging a chair over to the wall where the painting hung.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘The painting. I want to take it.’

  ‘Nicci, it’s a fucking picture. It’s our lives at stake here!’

  The logic seemed to make no difference. Nicci climbed up onto the chair.

  ‘It’s too late, anyway!’ Magda called. ‘They’re here.’

  Chapter 50

  ‘This it?’ Fogarty demanded.

  Hendrik studied the map on his phone and said, ‘It seems to be. Chateau Nicci.’


  Fogarty got out of the truck and turned to study the distant farmhouse. It didn’t look much. He’d seen better sheds on allotments.

  ‘Home sweet home, eh? Well, Nicci, old boy, you’ve got a big shock coming. You have to wonder what he’s done with the money,’ Fogarty said with a chuckle. ‘If this is what he’s bought, property prices around here must be worse than in London.’

  ‘It’s a dump, isn’t it?’ Hendrik said.

  ‘Well, let’s make contact. See what Nicci has to say for himself. Send a couple of men around the back first, to stop him doing a runner.’

  While Hendrik was seeing to that, a shot was fired from the farmhouse, making everyone fall flat.

  ‘A suggestion, Ed,’ Hendrik said, returning to stand beside Fogarty. ‘There’s more than one man in there. Probably that guy who knocked our lad off the balcony is with him. Maybe more. And they’ve got weapons.’

  ‘Well, one we know about. Only a shotgun.’

  ‘Let’s see if we can talk Nicci out. No point risking losing anyone else.’

  ‘Talk him out? How the hell are we going to do that? He knows what we’ve come for. He knows what we’re going to do.’

  ‘Even so…’

  ‘OK. You’re right. What do you suggest we do?’

  ‘Send a guy with a white flag to tell him we want to negotiate.’

  ‘Negotiate?’ Fogarty said with a chuckle. ‘Yeah, right. Let’s try that first. Then we’ll do it the old way. We’ll blast them out!’

  Chapter 51

  Several men spilled out of the truck. Even from a distance, Jake could identify Fogarty amongst them. That was a surprise. Hands-on, eh? In for the kill. Well, they would have to see about that. If nothing else, he was determined to go down fighting.

  Fogarty could be seen giving his men instructions, spreading them out around the house. Jake grimaced. They were outnumbered, and probably massively out-armed as well. He didn’t know what the hell to do. Meanwhile, bloody Nicci was struggling to get that damned picture off the wall!

  He opened a window and fired a round from the shotgun. It did no harm, apart from wasting precious ammunition, and he wanted to let Fogarty know they would defend themselves. It wasn’t going to be a walk-over, like with Freddie and the others.