The truck up ahead suddenly slowed as the brake lights came on, and all thoughts of a relaxing evening disappeared in an instant. He couldn’t see any reason for the driver to stop in the middle of nowhere, which told him something wasn’t quite right. He flicked off his own headlights and pulled over to the side of the road a couple of hundred yards behind it, navigating his off-road vehicle between two clumps of trees.
Ahead, he saw the driver climb out and walk to the back of the vehicle, then kick the wheels in frustration before digging out a cell phone. Kyle thought about going to offer help, but realised it wouldn’t be the same as changing the wheel on his own vehicle. All he could do was keep the Iveco in sight and wait for the tow truck to arrive.
He debated whether or not to call it in, but in truth there wasn’t much to report, and he knew Owen and Harvey would probably have their hands full following the real target.
He decided to wait until either the Iveco was repaired and reached its destination, or Owen called him to end the mission. One thing he couldn’t wait for was the growing pressure in his bladder, so he climbed out of the Jeep to relieve himself in the bushes. He glanced up and down the road as the plants got a watering, and as the moon emerged from behind a cloud he saw something glint in the road about fifty yards ahead of him.
Kyle zipped himself up and went to take a look, staying in the shadows as he advanced. In the road he saw a triangular tube around six feet long, with metal spikes protruding from every side. He instantly recognised the stop-stick used by American law enforcement agencies to halt car chases. Each spike was a hollow metal tube which embedded itself in the tyre, allowing the air to escape slowly without causing a catastrophic blowout.
He was about to step into the carriageway to retrieve it when the sound of an engine drew his attention to the approaching headlights. He ducked back into the trees and watched as a dark grey van slowed as it neared the truck. A Chinese youth, no more than seventeen, jumped from the passenger seat and picked up the stick, then jogged after the van as it pulled up behind the stricken truck.
Kyle’s first thought was that this was preplanned rather than a good Samaritan coming to the truck driver’s aid, and this was confirmed when the kid dropped the stop-stick and produced a blade from his waist. The truck driver immediately put his hands up, expecting to have his load stolen, but the boy continued to close on him. The driver backed away, sensing that he was involved in more than a simple hijacking, but as he backed into the rear of the truck, the boy plunged the knife into his stomach.
Kyle watched the man fall to the ground, but the assault wasn’t over. He watched the youth strike again and again, hitting the man in the back and head. A shout from the driver of the grey van halted the attack, and the youth wiped his blade on the dead driver’s shirt before dragging him into the undergrowth.
Another man had appeared from the van’s cab and he approached the driver at the rear of the truck. The youth joined them and got a rollicking in Cantonese from the elder of the trio. Kyle had no idea what was being said, but when the boy removed his T-shirt it was obvious that the blood stains hadn’t been part of the plan. The chastised teenager was banished to the van while the other two began opening the container.
Kyle had his Glock 9mm in his right hand while he thumbed through the contact list on his phone. He selected Owen’s number and held it close to his ear, but after five rings it went to voicemail.
“Shit!”
Until he knew for certain that this wasn’t just a violent robbery, all he could do was watch.
* * *
Tom Gray screamed as the pain shot up his leg.
“What is it?” Vick asked, concerned.
“Cramp!” He said, gritting his teeth. He tried pointing his toes to get rid of it, but as soon as his foot went back to its normal position, the pain returned.
“Welcome to the annual meeting of the agoraphobic society,” Sonny deadpanned, but no-one was in the mood for laughing.
“At least it smells a bit better in here,” Vick said, massaging Gray’s calf as best she could.
It was an improvement, but not much. Two weeks of rudimentary bathing facilities and a shortage of shampoo meant her odour was worse now than it had been during her time in the jungle, and the others weren’t exactly smelling of roses.
“I’d have happily put up with the stench for a few more hours if it meant I could lie down properly,” Gray moaned.
“If you ask me, those guys are going overland, which is why we got transferred into this shoebox.”
Gray knew Len was right. The cramped air-cargo container wasn’t the ideal way to travel, but it beat another three weeks in the stinking box they’d called home for the past fortnight. According to the research he’d done before setting off from Port Kelang, he expected them to spend a couple of hours on the road, an hour or so in the airport and then a further ten to twelve in the air. After that it would be around three days overland before they hit the ferry to Dover, and he hoped the final leg of the journey would be in more luxurious conditions.
Once they reached the UK, however, their problems wouldn’t be over. He still had to deal with Farrar, and over the last week he’d been formulating a plan that relied on one man’s help. Guaranteeing his co-operation wasn’t a given, but the countless hours spent deliberating had thrown up no alternatives. With the man on board, it would be easier to sway the other players that would inevitably become embroiled, but if he didn’t offer his support, Gray’s plan would fall apart at the first hurdle.
“Anyone fancy a game of I-Spy?” Baines asked, breaking Gray’s train of thought and getting an elbow in the ribs from Vick for yet another poor attempt at humour.
“Can it, Sonny,” she said. “Or stow it, or whatever it is you guys do.” Her lexicon had grown in the last month to include words such as “tabbing” and “jankers”, but she still couldn’t keep up when the men were in full flow. One thing she had learned was the camaraderie that existed between them. They might be boastful when recounting their adventures together, and often disparaging towards each other, but their stories always hinted at an altruistic bond not found in other walks of life.
She went back to her daydream, picturing herself taking a long, hot shower in a luxury London hotel, followed by a head-to-toe massage accompanied by a few glasses of champagne. She was just about to slip beneath the satin sheets when the truck juddered and slowed to a halt, shattering her illusion and casting her back to the present.
“Are we at the airport already?”
“I don’t think so,” Gray told her. “I think we’ve got a flat.”
“Does that mean we’ll miss our plane?”
Gray thought it unlikely that it would wait for four stowaways, but he remained hopeful that Arnold Tang would have contingencies in place. If his success rate was as high as he’d boasted, he would surely have people en route already.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he told her.
Minutes passed, and Gray was wondering what the implications would be if they had to wait for the next flight out of the country when he heard the door to the main container opening. Moments later the plastic sheet of the tiny AKE air cargo container was unfastened and the cardboard box shielding them from view was pulled aside. A Chinese face appeared, giving the occupants a once over, his eyes coming to rest on Vick. The beginnings of a smile crawled over his face, revealing yellow, nicotine-stained teeth.
In an instant it was gone.
“Come!” He ordered. “You come now!”
Gray was the first to crawl out of the tight space, glad of the chance to get his circulation moving once more. The others followed and were shown to the van, the rear doors held open so that they could climb in.
“See, told you we’d soon be on our way,” he grinned at Vick as he made himself comfortable on the bare floor. Vick snuggled up next to him, while Len pulled out his Kindle and Sonny sat with his back to the cab.
“Ooh, you’re bleeding,” Vick said,
pointing to Sonny’s feet.
He looked at the soles of his shoes and saw fresh, red patches near the heels. He gave himself the once over but found no sign of a wound.
“Must have stepped in something when we switched vehicles,” he shrugged. “Probably road kill.”
The driver pulled away and within seconds the passengers felt the van turn and bounce across the grassy median, heading towards the centre of the city.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Sonny said, and despite the van having no side or rear windows, Gray knew he was right.
“Taking a shortcut?” He offered.
“Maybe they’re taking us to another truck,” Vick suggested. “We can hardly just walk onto a cargo plane.”
It was possible, Gray thought, but he wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.
“Ask them what’s going on,” he said to Sonny.
Baines turned and tapped the elder passenger on the shoulder. “Where are we going?”
The man blew a cloud of cigarette smoke in Sonny’s face and began gesturing out of the front window while rattling off a barrage of Cantonese.
“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Sonny said. The teenager joined in, a malicious grin on his face as he looked Sonny in the eye and added his two cents worth to the conversation. He was silenced by a dig in the ribs from his elder.
Baines shrugged noncommittally and went to sit down next to Smart.
“I think we’ve got a problem,” he whispered. “From what little I understood, the kid is looking forward to having his way with Vick before he kills us.”
A look of horror crept over Vick’s face and Gray quickly pulled her head into his chest, just in case her reaction drew any unwanted attention. He kissed her hair and whispered for her to stay calm.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he promised, and threw Baines a stern look.
“I thought you only knew a few Chinese phrases,” Len said quietly.
“I do,” Sonny said. “I know when someone mentions sex, and I also know when they want to kill me. That kid ticks all the boxes.”
“Even I know that in most languages, words have several meanings,” Len said.
Sonny knew the point was valid, but he had an uneasy feeling. “The old guy was carrying a crowbar,” he pointed out, “and there was no sign of the truck driver. Surely they would have got him to open the container instead of breaking the lock off.”
“You think they killed him?” Gray asked.
“It would explain this,” Sonny said, waggling his feet and drawing their attention back to the blood stains.
Gray considered the options, and came up with just two: take the Chinese men on, here, on the road; or wait until they reach their destination and see what happened. If they chose the latter, there was no way of knowing how many people they’d have to face if Sonny had correctly understood the kid’s intentions. On the other hand, if Sonny had got his wires crossed, they could end up blowing their only chance of getting home.
With every passing second they were motoring towards option one, and Gray knew they’d have to make a decision. He asked his friends for their thoughts, and not for the first time, they were in agreement.
“It’s your call, Sonny,” Gray said.
“I know what I heard,” Baines said flatly, and the others nodded. Each of them looked around for a weapon, but the van was sterile. They were going to have to use their bare hands, but there wasn’t enough room behind the seats for them to effectively tackle the Chinese one-on-one.
“I’ll take the kid and the one on the right,” Len said. “Tom, you take the driver.”
“Aren’t we forgetting someone?” Gray asked, gesturing towards Vick. “It’ll be dicey while we’re moving. Let’s see if we can get them to stop first.”
The others agreed, and Gray asked Vick to pretend she needed a rest stop. As it wasn’t the hardest acting job in the world, she squeezed her knees together and put on a pained expression.
Gray tapped the kid on the shoulder and nodded towards her. “The lady needs to go to the toilet. Can we pull over?”
The teenager spoke quickly to the older man and got a bark in reply. He looked at Gray. “You wait. Go soon.”
“She can’t wait. She’s gonna piss all over your nice clean floor.”
The youth ignored him, turning his attention back to the front window. Gray sat back down next to Vick and explained that things might get a little bumpy. The van had a series of webbing restraint straps down each side, and Gray told her to grab one and hold on with all her might. He saw the look of apprehension, but assured her it was going to be okay.
Still uncertain, Vick clutched the nearest strap as tight as she could and nodded. Gray gave her a smile and kissed the top of her head, then knelt behind the driver. Smart got down on one knee, two feet to his right.
The youth felt their presence and was turning around to decline what he thought was another toilet break request when Smart cupped his hands around the elder’s forehead and pulled down and back sharply. The crack was clearly audible over the roar of the diesel engine and the man fell forward, his body held in place by the seatbelt, head hanging at an unnatural angle.
Smart turned his attention to the kid, anticipating another easy kill, but the youth recovered quickly from the shock of the initial assault. As he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt he was able to swivel and face Smart, eluding his grasp and pulling his knife from the sheath on his belt.
Gray had his man in a headlock and was shouting for him to pull over, but the driver ignored the order and yanked the wheel to the right, trying to unbalance Gray. All he succeeded in doing was to throw the teenager off balance, and instead of the blade driving through Smart’s throat, it glanced the side of his neck, drawing blood but doing no serious damage. Smart pulled back, wary of the knife, and the kid turned his attention to helping the driver.
Switching the knife to an overhand grip, he brought it down hard, aiming for Gray’s head. Tom saw it coming and jerked away from the blade but not far enough to prevent it slicing through his upper arm. Blood gushed from the wound but he didn’t even have time to register pain before the knife came flashing down again. Gray jerked the driver backwards and the van jerked violently to the right once more, throwing the youngster off balance. He fell into the driver, the strike missing everyone and deflecting off the side window. He was righting himself when the van bounced onto the median and he was thrown up against the roof of the van before collapsing in the foot well.
Smart came to Gray’s help, delivering a powerful punch that took the last of the fight out of the driver. He went limp and Gray let him go, reaching over him to grab the wheel. He had one hand on it when they hit a huge rut and the wheel tore from his hand. He was thrown upwards, slamming into the roof before collapsing in a heap next to Vick. The van rolled, throwing the occupants about like socks in a tumble dryer as it spun across the grass before ending up on its side.
They untangled themselves and took stock. Vick had a cut on her cheek and a sprained ankle where someone had landed on her. Smart and Baines had minor scratches and a few bruises, but Gray was worst hit. Blood poured from the wound on his arm and he was lying motionless near the back doors, which had torn open during the crash.
Smart went to tend to him, checking for and finding a faint pulse, and he tore Tom’s T-shirt and used it to create a tourniquet.
Vick cradled Tom’s head. Tears were streaming down her face, partly due to Tom’s condition, but ultimately brought on by the ferocity of the brief, chaotic exchange. Her body shook as she fought for control, her breath ragged and laboured. Sonny saw the signs and went to comfort her, trying to calm her down before she went into shock.
Behind them, in the cab, the youth wiped the blood from his face. A three-inch gash in his forehead leaked crimson into his eyes, but his focus was on the four gweilo. There was no thought of running, taking flight so that he could live to fight another day, despite being outnumb
ered. Instead, he weighed up the opposition and decided that the larger man was the more dangerous. He would die first, followed by the by the little fair-haired one and then the female. He wouldn’t get his few moments of fun with the woman, but he’d complete the task the team had been assigned and his stock would rise as a result.
He got quietly to his feet, knife in hand, and took two silent steps towards Smart. Vick caught the movement from the corner of her eye but the warning shout stuck in her throat as she froze in terror. The knife hand came up as Baines saw the look on her face, and he snapped his head round as the teenager took a final step to get within range of Smart’s back. Sonny thrust a leg out at the side of the boy’s kneecap and the snap of bone and cruciate ligament resounded through the vehicle. He collapsed, dropping the knife as he fell. Sonny grabbed it and knelt on the adolescent’s arm and stomach, clamping his hand over the kid’s mouth.
Taking prisoners was out of the question, and there was no way they could simply let the Chinese kid go. Sonny looked behind him and saw that Vick and Len were watching him.
“Look away, Vick,” he said, and Smart shielded her while Sonny administered the coup de gras, plunging the knife into the boy’s heart and twisting. When the life finally drained from the young killer’s eyes, Sonny withdrew the knife and wiped it clean before putting it in his inside pocket.
“We’re getting lazy,” he said to Smart. “We should have made sure they were all dead before we did anything.”
Smart agreed, and it struck Vick just how little she knew these men. She’d listened to their tales over the last couple of weeks, how they’d fought their way out of seemingly countless situations — and taken a Thai brothel apart with their bare hands in one of their less sober moments — but the stories didn’t convey the ease with which they could take another human life. Those stories had seemed so…detached from reality, as if she’d been watching a movie or reading a book. Sonny, who she’d thought of as a loveable rogue, had just turned dispassionate killer in front of her eyes and...
Gray Redemption (Tom Gray #3) Page 17
