His scouts had reported activity at the boatyard to their superiors, and those reports had landed on his desk the day before. Now he had found these trespassers to be Englishmen cowering behind boxes, he felt less threatened by their presence.
But the trespass could not go unanswered, or his own forces would lose respect for him. He maintained order by such rules, and he liked order. The invaders would have to leave, but they would not take any resources from his territory.
Shortly after he had delivered his demands to speak to their leader and returned to his vehicle, an engine note pierced the air. He gazed north to see a white van driving slowly in his direction.
He turned to the two other men in his car and spoke to them in French, pointing out that the English had already stolen a vehicle. Mirthless laughter answered him, as the other two men thought their commander was making a joke. He wasn’t, and his scowl let them know that they had read him wrong.
The van pulled up about fifty metres from him, and he stood stock still in the road, feet braced, waiting to meet the driver.
He saw a man climb down from behind the wheel. Dressed in black, armed, and carrying himself like he knew his trade. At last, someone professional that he could relate to and not a conscript. As the man approached he saw he was almost half a head shorter than himself and looked tough, although this man bore an evil scar down the left side of his face which he imagined lesser men would fear.
He stopped ten paces away and stood, saying nothing.
Renard introduced himself, investing fierce pride in his rank and status, adding that he was the commander of a large force in control of this territory. He addressed him in accented English, assuming the man did not speak French.
He assumed correctly, and Dan annoyed him by responding only with his first name. Renard sighed, and made a show of slowly slinging his gun on his back. Dan responded to the gesture in kind, mutually agreeing to talk without the fear of violence. Yet.
“Cut to the chase,” Dan said, “what’s the problem?”
“The problem?” scoffed Renard. “The problem, my English friend, is that you are all trespassing and have taken resources from my territory. You must leave, and you will not be permitted to take this vehicle with you. How did you get here?”
“By sea, obviously,” Dan said in his calm, mocking tone he used when talking to someone with a superiority complex. He looked away and took his time lighting a cigarette, before grudgingly offering one to the leader of the opposition. Renard ignored his gesture.
“Specifically,” Renard said, carefully enunciating each syllable.
“A yacht. It’s moored in there,” he said, pointing without looking to his left. Renard’s eyebrows twitched slightly, indicating maybe some hidden lust for opulence.
“How can we get through this without any unpleasantness?” he asked the Belgian.
“We can do one of two things,” he said, “we can walk in and take what you have for trespassing and you can join us, or you can leave with nothing.”
So the horse trade started with a lame nag, thought Dan.
“There are other options, and I doubt you’ll find either of your solutions easy to achieve,” he replied coolly.
Renard scoffed again. “Really? How so? You have a few people with guns and I have all of my people with guns. I do not bring civilians on missions. Please, tell me your options,” he laughed at him.
“Well, we could appeal to your sense of morality to let us go unharmed, we could trade, or we could all shoot each other and see who’s left afterwards. I’m in a bit of a hurry to get off your territory and I’d rather save my ammunition, if that helps you come to any decision.”
Renard laughed again. “Tell me how the few of you can fight all of us?”
Dan didn’t respond to the taunts born of nervousness and arrogance. He simply and quietly laid out a few facts.
“Because I’ve got a sniper with a high powered rifle looking directly at you, and he can take out your people in the car to the south. He’s a remarkably good shot so he can probably put ten into your backup vehicle after that. Other than that, you’ll find that all of my people are armed and storming in there would be bad for your long-term health. I’ve got other things but I’ll leave those where they are for now.” He saw Renard bridle at the calm counter-threats and instantly his trained eye fixed onto the highest point.
“So you have a sniper up the mast of that boat and a few guns. Can your sniper see in the dark, I wonder?”
Dan bit back the retort that he couldn’t, but he can still shoot very accurately in very poor light. No point in showing all your cards.
Renard continued his verbal chess-like assault, trying to outplay, outthink and out boast Dan’s claims.
“I can have a hundred armed men here by tonight. I doubt you even have that many bullets.”
That was inaccurate, but what they did have had to last and they couldn’t afford to waste ammo let alone any lives in getting out of this situation.
“Look,” Dan reasoned, “we’re a lot like you. We formed a big group and defended our territory, but I assure you we just need a couple of vehicles to get on our way. We have places to be and we’re on a timeframe so please, what’s it going to take?”
“You do not have anything to trade us in return for your safe passage?” he enquired politely.
“You can have our boat. I’m assured it was worth millions before.”
“What if we take the boat anyway?”
“Then most of our people on both sides of this fence would die because we can’t come to an agreement. We are at the start of quite a long journey and we would appreciate it if you let us go on our way.” He tried the emotional sell to seal the deal. “My woman is pregnant, and I’m sure you know what that means for her.”
He saw Renard’s face fall slightly.
“Yes I do,” he replied, “are you telling me there is something that can be done?”
It was Dan’s turn to look crestfallen.
“We don’t know, not for sure, but have you figured out why we survived yet?” the look on his face said that he hadn’t, although he probably didn’t have his own virologist PhD student hiding a hundred yards away.
“Africa. You’ve been to Africa, right?” Renard looked like he had been slapped.
“Yes. Is that the reason we did not die?” he asked, open-mouthed. Dan had guessed his regime didn’t include much in the way of research.
“Like I said, we don’t know but that’s where we’re going to try and find out.”
Renard made a show of thinking, even though Dan suspected he would still attempt to extract some form of payment. He had kept him talking long enough for his risky backup plan to be ready, although he could see no sign of it, and decided to end negotiations.
He took a deep breath as though weary, held it, then let it out in a low whistle. As Renard eyed him suspiciously, a noise sounded behind him.
~
Leah had crept low and as fast as stealth would allow along the deep drainage ditch at the side of the road. Luckily it had been a hot summer and was mostly dry save for a few boggy parts which her nimble feet avoided easily. Her small stature made approaching invisibly in full daylight relatively easy, and she was close enough to hear the conversation when her signal came.
Silently she sprang from the ditch and approached their van from behind. The rear passenger was out of the vehicle and stood watching the two men talk, concentrating on the foreign language and woefully unaware of his surroundings.
Leaving the carbine slung on her back, she decided that a show of force would be more effective; too many targets in a small space to use the carbine properly anyway.
Creeping behind the standing man, she saw another in the driver’s seat with the door open. Neither were even the slightest bit concerned with the direction she had come from and both stared intently at the conversation which, to her, closely resembled two grumpy peacocks displaying their tail feathers.
She drew the Walther from behind her right hip and with her left hand unsheathed the blade she wore high on her chest. She straightened up, took two long strides forward to gather momentum and delivered a hard kick to the back of the standing man’s right knee. He dropped instantly to his knees but the sudden appearance of a wickedly sharp blade at his throat stopped him from pitching forwards any further. He froze with a strangled cry to accompany the yelp brought on by his pained joint.
At this sound, the driver spun to look only to find himself staring into the barrel of her gun pointed straight at his head. Both neutralized, both completely at her mercy. If her man on the floor made a move he would die with a severed carotid artery, and the other man was too close to run but too far away to try and rush her before she shot him.
“Checkmate,” she said aloud.
“One of the others things I mentioned,” Dan said casually. “Not a threat, merely a demonstration that we are more than capable of defending ourselves. But we are good people, and we don’t want bloodshed.”
“And my men?” asked Renard angrily, annoyed more at himself for the incompetence of his men. “What am I to tell the others when I let you go?”
“Tell them you let us go in exchange for the boat. Tell them we have women and children. Tell them we’re idiots who you don’t want hanging around here. We’re mostly English, so they should believe that. Say whatever you have to say to save face, but we are leaving.”
With that he gave another short, low whistle and saw from the corner of his eye how Leah withdrew the knife so fast the man checked with his hand to see if she had slashed him. She backed away a distance before lowering the gun and returning to Dan’s side.
Renard seemed speechless at what had just happened. He was shocked, and told Dan as much.
“Where did you get her?” he asked in awe.
“Secret KGB training program for child assassins. Got her off the internet.” With that he turned and walked away.
“We’ll be gone by morning and I do hope you keep your word,” he shouted back as he reached the van.
CUT SHORT
The sight of Dan rolling back in with the vehicle they needed and showing no concern made some of the group feel foolish. They weren’t, he told them they had all done exactly what they should have done. He grabbed up the radio to ask Mitch to sit tight and report their next move before gathering everyone inside.
“We’re leaving,” he announced. “I said we’re going in the morning but we will be going sooner than that. Everybody load up their kit and find space in a van – I know it’s not comfortable but needs must. Everyone go, pack up.”
The packing began immediately. He caught the eyes of Marie and Neil, nodding them over to him. They found a quiet corner and brought Mitch in via radio.
He quickly recited his conversation with Renard, leaving out the most brutal of Leah’s actions in tipping the power balance.
“Basically they’re like us, but also not at the same time. It’s certainly no Slaver’s Bay but they run things differently, and it looks like we’ve unwittingly walked into claimed territory. We’re leaving with what we have and technically trading them the boat for it. That’s the face value of it anyway. Real answer is that if he brought his entire force then his losses would be huge and so would ours. Neither of us can cope with that. He was just about to call my bluff, I think, when Leah appeared having taken down two of his guards inside of a couple of seconds.
“Yay me!” said Leah in quiet sarcasm.
Mitch’s amusement was plain in the laughter they heard over the radio before his voice returned to the professional soldier he was.
“They’re withdrawing now. Doubt they’ll go far.”
Dan asked him to stay on it. He assured him that he would, but asked for Adam to pick his kit up for him.
Dan walked outside, lit a cigarette and wondered if the coffee had been tipped away yet. Leah walked to his side carrying her kit, a crooked smile cracking on her face.
“I said sneak up and show yourself, not show off,” he reproved her gently. She shrugged in response, the smile growing wider.
“You’ll get old like me one day,” he goaded her, “then a concussion will put you out for longer.”
She turned as she walked away, effortlessly pacing backwards without a change of pace to stick her tongue out at him.
The vans were being packed as efficiently as they could be in a hurry, but people would still be cramped in on top of bags and boxes. To save space, Mitch, Dan and Neil would ride the bikes. Jack would drive the big van and Jimmy the smaller one. Seeing how much stuff they were cramming into the vehicles Dan thought that riding a motorcycle through the cold night would be better than playing sardines.
Leah was asked to ride shotgun with Jack, Adam with Jimmy. Putting Ash in the back of a van with no windows and people to bite would not have been a good idea so he rode up front with Marie and Leah, excited about the commotion.
Dan called Mitch down from the nest, shuddering as he watched him make the reverse climb. He took the big rifle from him and double checked that he would be fit to ride, receiving the answer he knew he would. Mitch was fine. You could ask Mitch to rob a beehive wearing nothing but a smile and flowers in his hair and he’d still say it was fine.
He passed over the large rifle to Leah, who rested it on the dash of their van. They had the map out and were pointing out the quickest way from the area.
“Through this tunnel here, straight through to the city,” said Marie.
Dan opened his mouth to speak, but heard his own words in a higher and sweeter voice before he could say them out loud.
“No. Perfect ambush point. The most direct route will be the best place to get caught. We need to head east then south to avoid the city and the tunnels.”
She looked between Dan and Marie, waiting to see whose side he would take.
“No tunnels. Take point and navigate us.” With that Dan turned away to dig out a windcheater from his pack before slinging it in the back of the big van. His thin tactical gloves would have to suffice, but he knew he was in for an uncomfortable night.
Searching the busy faces for his old Irishman, he found him and told him exactly what he wanted from him. As the understanding washed over him, a cruel smile spread slowly from his mouth to the deep lines of his crinkled brow.
They had managed to siphon a dozen jerry cans of fuel from the boat, which should get them a good distance into Germany. He hoped.
The bikes were topped off from the cans with the red stripes, and they were good to go. People piled in to settle in whatever soft part they could find, happy to be leaving behind the chance of more hostilities.
Dan fired up his motorcycle and scanned around. They were good to go. He slapped on the side of the big van twice to signal their departure and took one last look towards the harbor.
In the dying light, he could still make out the name on the stern of the boat as it rose and fell gently in the water. He had to assure himself that they were just leaving a boat behind, but riding away from Hope seemed a little too poignant at that moment.
NINE LIVES
The gathered crowd were kept at bay outside the door to medical and only a select few were permitted access to Steve. He was in a great deal of discomfort and could only speak for a few minutes at a time before pain overcame his senses again.
As the story of what had happened during and since the crash was absorbed by him, he asked for Chris to visit so he could thank him for getting him out. Chris’ tears of anger were misunderstood by many, but Steve knew who he blamed for recent events. Truth be told, he harboured more than a little resentment for Dan and the others who left, as it was becoming apparent just how fragile their small corner of the world had become.
Lexi desperately wanted to pour out the events since he crash-landed back home, but even she could see just how weak he was. It would have to wait until he could absorb the information and hopefully back up her suspicions about ‘the twins’.
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Now that he was having periods of lucidity, Lizzie could examine him more thoroughly. Other than a few broken ribs – nothing could really be done for them – and the mess of his leg, it seemed that the whole of his body had taken a severe beating; it was as though he’d gone through an industrial dryer with a dozen house bricks on high spin.
After the others had been banished to allow him to rest, Alice sat with him and fed him mouthfuls of soup. One sentence at a time, he told her how he had now survived three helicopter crashes.
A hint of a smile broke the lines in his cheeks as he told the girl about the others, both in training, and how his commander when he retired called him a cat with nine lives.
“I reckon I’ve used up eight by now,” he said quietly, “so I think I need to take it easy.”
Lexi was speaking to Paul in Ops when Rich walked in. He seemed surprised to see anyone else there and began to mutter apologies.
“Don’t be silly,” she said to him, “there’s few enough of us left as it is.”
She went to pour him a drink out of habit, then remembered herself and switched aim to put an unnecessary top up into her own glass. She knew he had been drinking, but convinced herself that it would work itself out. In truth, she couldn’t face having to deal with it when everything was up in the air.
As they sat discussing Steve’s return from the dead, the twins walked in. Their conversation stopped instantly when they saw they weren’t alone. They ignored them with utter disdain and turned away to the armoury. Without a word they helped themselves to automatic weapons, took the keys to a Defender and left without another word.
“Those two are up to something,” said Paul, voicing the obvious suspicions of all three of them.
“But it’s only us who see it,” finished Lexi.
“They operate outside of our standard practices. They have the ear of certain people and they are popular. We can’t compete with that, not with things as they are right now,” said Rich quietly, surprising the other two. He had just said more words in one sentence than he had to anyone in a month.
Hope: After It Happened Book 4 Page 13
