Last Resort

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Two,’ Foreman answered. ‘Enough for you?’

  Before David could answer, the field agent’s voice came back over the radio. ‘Who the fuck is that, Jim?’

  Foreman grinned. ‘That’s our friend Mr Villers, Todd.’

  ‘Then tell him to keep his fucking voice down – it’s making the natives nervous.’

  ‘Where are you, for Christ’s sake?’ Foreman laughed.

  ‘We’re parked up in one of those crappy little bicycle-and-sidecar affairs right opposite the jail. No one comes or goes without us seeing.’

  ‘What about the back? Who’s watching the back?’ David shouted.

  ‘No back way in or out,’ Todd answered.

  ‘There’s always a back way in or out,’ David roared.

  ‘Get him the fuck off the line, will you?’ Todd grumbled.

  ‘We got us a pretty serious situation here, Todd,’ Foreman answered. ‘More serious than I can go into right now. So just do as he says and double-check the back way.’

  ‘OK, you got it. But you tell that bastard from me he ain’t in no position to kick ass around here—’

  ‘Over and out, Todd,’ Foreman cut in and threw the radio back on the dash. ‘We’ll check in again five minutes before we get there,’ he said to David, ‘but if there’s anything to report we’ll know about it. You tooled up?’

  ‘No,’ David answered, swerving to avoid an oncoming truck.

  ‘Sort it, Looch,’ he said. ‘We run into Mureau out there this guy’s gonna need all the protection he can get.’ Then, to David: ‘The others keeping up?’

  ‘They seem to be,’ David answered, glancing in the rear-view mirror. His adrenalin was really pumping now and he was glad when the car fell into silence. He wanted to concentrate on this miserable excuse for a road, because the way they were going there was every chance they’d end up over a cliff. The bright lights and bottlenecks of Manila were behind them now and the lack of street lights and moonless sky were making the route as hazardous as any he’d ever driven.

  They sped on through the night, passing derelict garages, convents and villages. The higher they climbed, the denser the forest became. The winding road narrowed to a single track. Overhead sharp tongues of static flashed across the sky. David’s hands were tight on the wheel; his face was pale and his limbs rigid with tension. His mind was racked with thoughts of Penny. The crazy thing was that the closer they got to her the more jittery he felt at seeing her. He just prayed to God that she wasn’t in on this with Mureau. But surely to God she’d never have agreed to being locked up in a festering hole just to humour Mureau? And it was even less likely that she’d put her sister’s life at risk by not co-operating with the DEA. But they hadn’t got there in time, had they? The outfit Mureau had bought himself had got there first, so there had been no opportunity to tell Penny who was really holding her sister and that there was no chance in the world any harm was going to come to Sammy.

  ‘Shit!’ he swore, fighting to control the wheel as the car bounced up over a rock.

  ‘Take it easy,’ Foreman muttered. Then, glancing at his watch, he reached for the radio.

  ‘You there, Todd?’ he said.

  ‘We’re here,’ Todd answered. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Just coming up over the hill. We can see the lights of the town now. Be with you in about five. Any action your end?’

  ‘Dead as a doornail.’

  Foreman hung up the radio and looked at David. ‘Could be you’re wrong,’ he said, ‘and he’s not planning on coming for her tonight.’

  ‘That’s your problem,’ David answered. ‘I’m here to buy her out of that jail, then we’re out of here. You want to wait around to see if he shows, that’s up to you.’

  ‘She’s the bait, Villers. She’s gonna have to stay.’

  ‘Could be he’s long gone,’ David said.

  ‘Could be. But we need her in that jail a while longer yet.’

  David didn’t argue. He knew the only reason he was getting the DEA’s co-operation here was because of their chances of capturing Mureau.

  ‘This it?’ he said a few minutes later as they bumped up over a mound in the road and turned into a rutted main street of the third world.

  ‘This is it,’ Foreman confirmed. ‘Police station’s down on the right. Look out for the Holy Trinity Dental Clinic – it’s right next door.’

  David had slowed the car now and as Foreman gazed warily around the shadowy shop fronts and deserted food stalls he reached for his gun. ‘Where is everyone?’ he murmured. ‘It’s a fucking ghost town.’

  David’s blood pulsed thickly through his veins as he glanced in the mirror to see the other vehicles turning into the street. ‘What’s it normally like out here?’ he said.

  ‘Heaving. But hell, it’s nearly midnight; could be they’ve all gone off to grab some sack time.’

  ‘Lights’re on in the police station,’ Lucci said. ‘So someone’s at home.’

  ‘Like to know who,’ Foreman commented, priming his gun.

  ‘There’re the boys,’ Lucci said, pointing to a bicycle-and-sidecar, half hidden in shadow.

  ‘The money’s in the trunk,’ David said, pulling the car to a halt on a dusty patch of land in front of the station. ‘I’m going round the back to let her know we’re here. Pay whatever it takes and follow up with the keys.’

  Foreman turned to Lucci and rolled his eyes. ‘Go tell the boys to stay put and cover our asses,’ he said. ‘All looks pretty quiet to me, but they’re a bunch of bandits – no knowing what might happen in there.’

  As the Interpol and NarCom vehicles pulled in around them Lucci got out and trotted towards the sidecar. David and Foreman moved to the front of the station.

  ‘Any trouble afoot, we’d have been warned,’ Foreman said softly. ‘But no point taking chances. Get going. We’ll follow up once we know what’s what inside.’

  David was about to break away, when a uniformed officer joined him. ‘Oriel Maralit, Narcotics Command,’ the officer told him. ‘The cell’s out the back.’

  David nodded, then ran silently past the seething gutters and disappeared into the black hole of the side alley, Maralit close on his tail.

  A dim light seeped into the darkness at the far end of the alley. David moved swiftly, fleetingly wondering if he should have picked up the gun Looch had prepared for him. When they reached the yard Maralit flicked on a torch and slid the beam over cracked, mouldering walls.

  ‘Far corner,’ Maralit whispered, pressing ahead.

  In the torch beam David could see the barred window and ran towards it. The stench hit him, making him gag. The beam slithered on to the gate and David’s heart stopped. The gate was wide open; the cell was deserted.

  He spun round as someone ran into the yard.

  ‘She there?’ Lucci shouted.

  ‘The place is empty,’ David shouted back, his voice strangled by fury.

  ‘The boys have gone. No sign of ’em,’ Lucci told him, coming to check the cell for himself. ‘Must’ve gone in pursuit.’

  David bolted back round to the front of the station. Foreman was coming out. Lucci dashed to the car and started shouting into the radio.

  ‘Place is deserted,’ Foreman told him.

  ‘Jesus Holy Christ!’ David seethed, banging his fist into the wall. ‘How the fuck did this happen? You just called in five minutes ago.’

  ‘I’m aware of that, son,’ Foreman responded tightly. He turned to Lucci. ‘Any luck?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lucci answered.

  NarCom and Interpol officers were swarming over the police station. Maralit had gone inside to join them.

  ‘No sign of the girlfriend?’ Foreman said to David.

  ‘She’s gone,’ David confirmed through his teeth.

  ‘What a fucking mess,’ Foreman muttered, dashing a hand through his sparse, greying hair. ‘You got any idea where they might have taken her?’

  David glared at him, his dark eyes flash
ing with murderous rage.

  They both turned as a NarCom officer came racing out of the door. ‘They’ve just found the station commander, tied up in his office,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Seems the whole place has been under siege since they brought the girl here.’

  ‘Does he know where they’ve taken her?’ Foreman barked.

  ‘He says it’s a long shot, but he reckons they could—’

  He broke off as Maralit crashed out of the door behind him and sprinted for his car. ‘I’ll lead the way,’ he shouted. ‘If Brillantes is right about this, then we got no more than ten minutes.’

  Penny’s terror of the speed they were travelling was only surpassed by the terror of where they might be taking her. The night was so black and the speed so lethal she could see almost nothing as they careered around bends and shot up over humps in the road. Sombillo and Jalmasco were either side of her, clinging to the doorstraps as the driver swerved around potholes and revved savagely out of ditches. The icy blast of the air-con chilled her skin while inside she burned with renewed fear.

  They’d come for her ten minutes ago, throwing open the barred gate and ordering her to move fast. Jalmasco’s gun was trained on her and as she stumbled to her feet more men had poured into the yard. There was a lot of shouting in words she didn’t understand. She was dragged forward and pushed into the alleyway just as two shots rang out from the street. Flinching, she’d shrunk back, but Jalmasco pushed her on.

  ‘We’ve got to get you out of here,’ he’d hissed. ‘Keep moving.’

  As they’d thrust her into the waiting car she’d seen two bodies being hauled from a bicycle sidecar and dragged off into the shadows.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she whimpered as someone sluiced away the dark trail of blood that followed the bodies. ‘Where are we going? What’s happening?’

  No one answered as they leapt into the car. The driver pressed down on the accelerator, throwing up dirt and stones behind them, then they were speeding down the street.

  ‘Please,’ she begged now, almost screaming as they swerved to avoid an abandoned jeep. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘We had to get you out before you were arraigned,’ Sombillo told her, his eyes turned towards the night.

  ‘But why? I don’t understand,’ she cried.

  ‘You were facing the death penalty,’ he reminded her. ‘Is that what you wanted?’

  ‘No. But . . . For God’s sake!’ she shrieked as they hit a bump and the car went on to two wheels. ‘Why do we have to go so fast? Can’t you tell him to slow down?’ she cried as the car righted itself.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Jalmasco said, glancing at his watch in the passing glare of a single street light.

  ‘Where?’ she yelled. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I told you, we’re getting you out of here.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ she screamed, her voice rising hysterically as the car ricocheted off a wall and skidded into a spin. The driver fought with the wheel, then swung left. Penny saw the rippling gleam of water in the headlights.

  ‘Take it along the water’s edge,’ Sombillo said, leaning forward. ‘The pier’s right ahead.’

  Penny’s eyes darted frantically about her as the blinding throb of terror thumped through her head. She knew where they were now. She recognized the village, the jetty and the deserted outriggers bobbing on the fringes of the lake. But she had no time to order her thoughts before the car squealed to a stop and the back door was wrenched open.

  She couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but she knew, even before he spoke, who it was.

  ‘Penny?’ he cried as Jalmasco leapt out. ‘Penny, thank God.’

  Reaching into the car, he took her hand and pulled her out. But when he tried to take her in his arms Penny slapped them away.

  ‘Chérie,’ he gasped.

  ‘I want to know what the hell’s going on,’ she seethed. ‘You set me up, didn’t you? It was you who planted that heroin. You who paid—’

  ‘Penny, listen to me,’ he cut in. ‘Benny Lao planted the drugs. I should have realized he’d do something like that, but I didn’t think he knew where we were. Then when I heard what had happened I skipped the boat and stayed to try to get you out of there. There is another boat coming for us tonight. We have to get away . . .’

  ‘No!’ Penny shouted. ‘You’re lying, Christian. It was you who set me up, you who paid him,’ she spat, pointing at Sombillo, ‘to scare the hell out of me . . .’

  ‘He was trying to help you, chérie. He had to make you see what danger you were in . . .’

  ‘What kind of fool do you take me for?’ she yelled. ‘I knew what danger I was in; I never doubted it for a moment. And I saw the photograph, Christian. I saw it. The one of me in the Chinese Gardens. The one you paid that boy to take so these bastards here would recognize me. So don’t try telling me it was Benny Lao . . .’

  Christian turned as Jalmasco spoke to him in Tagalog, then both looked out at the lake.

  ‘The boat’s here,’ Christian said, turning back to Penny. ‘You have to come, chérie. If you stay, the best you can hope for is twenty-five years.’

  ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘I’ve committed no crime . . .’

  ‘They’ve only got your word for that. Penny, don’t be a fool. There’s every chance they’ll hang you for this.’

  ‘Then I’ll take that chance,’ she responded, turning to walk away.

  ‘Penny,’ he cried, grabbing her arm. ‘There’s no time to argue about this now. I love you, chérie, and it’s because I love you that I’m not just going to stand by and watch you throw your life away. You can’t fight them, Penny. Do you hear me? They’ll find you and make sure you never talk.’

  Penny stood mutely staring out at the lake. In the flickering forks of lightning fracturing the humid air she could see the boat coming closer, weaving a path through the fishing pens and heading towards the feeble light at the end of the pier. What if she had got it wrong? What if it had been Lao who had set her up? God knew, she didn’t want to believe it was Christian, but what about the photograph? He still hadn’t explained that.

  When she pressed him about it again, he turned to Sombillo. ‘Where did you get it?’ he asked.

  Sombillo shrugged. ‘It came with the case notes. I never knew its relevance.’

  Christian turned back to Penny. ‘Chérie, I know how hard this is for you,’ he said, ‘but I swear I would never do anything to hurt you. Surely you must know how much I love you. I’ve put my own life and liberty at risk to stay here and help you. Do you honestly think I’d have done that if I’d set you up myself?’

  Penny looked at him, then turned to gaze out at the lake again.

  ‘And tell me this,’ he said softly: ‘what reason would I have to do that to you?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled. ‘I don’t know anything any more. I just want to go home.’

  He pulled her against him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Then we’ll try to get things sorted out here so you can do that,’ he told her. ‘It’ll take some time, but at least you haven’t been arraigned, so nothing’s official yet. But for now, Penny, you must come with me.’

  Tears were gathering in her eyes as she realized that she had no choice. If she didn’t go, then they would lock her up in that jail again – and, as he’d said, it was only her word that the heroin wasn’t hers.

  ‘We’re not going to join the ship with the drugs . . .’

  ‘Shh,’ he soothed. ‘That ship sailed the night it was supposed to. Now, come on, let’s get you out of here before anything else goes wrong.’

  As he led her down the jetty Penny watched the boat sliding towards them. Everything in her was screaming out to her not to do this, but as though her limbs belonged to someone else she just kept on walking, hearing and seeing nothing, moving beside him and letting him hold her.

  When they reached the end of the jetty the boat was only a few yards away. She started to sob.
She so desperately didn’t want to do this, but she could see no alternative. Whichever way she turned now, her life was in ruins. And surely a life on the run with Christian had to be better than another night in that festering hell she had just left.

  She felt him stiffen as a sudden commotion broke out behind them. Panic expanded her chest as she realized it was the police.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he whispered, keeping his arm around her. ‘Don’t look back. Just be ready to jump the minute the boat is close enough.’

  The engines chugged a laborious hum, drowning the kerfuffle on the water’s edge. Someone aboard leapt on to the bow, preparing to throw the rope. Penny stared down at the water, watching the aimless drift of dead fish, splintered wood and rotting waste.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Christian whispered, letting her go as the rope sailed through the air towards them. ‘Are you ready?’

  Penny nodded and tensed herself, ready to jump. At that very instant someone shouted her name.

  Before Christian could stop her she had swung round, unable, unwilling, to believe her ears. Her heart was suddenly racing as her mind dissolved into a vortex of confusion and terror. The night was so black she couldn’t see the end of the jetty, but when he shouted her name again she knew.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she cried, stumbling forward. It might just be a dream, maybe she had lost her senses altogether, but she didn’t care, she had to get to him. She hardly felt it when Christian grabbed her arm, she simply carried on trying to run.

  ‘Penny! Don’t get in that boat!’ David cried.

  Christian pulled her back. She staggered against him and felt the hard metal of a gun at her head. ‘Don’t listen to him,’ he hissed. ‘Just get in the boat.’

  Penny’s eyes widened with terror as Christian twisted her arm behind her back and yelled out to David. ‘If you come any closer, I’ll shoot!’

  ‘Let her go, Mureau,’ David shouted back. ‘It’s me you want, not her.’ He was standing at the end of the jetty now, visible only in the jagged switches of static overhead.

  Mureau laughed. ‘You flatter yourself, mon ami,’ he scoffed.

  ‘Act like a man, Mureau. Stop hiding behind a woman’s skirts.’