For a few precious seconds, it gave her strength.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach down and produce a thin, sharp scalpel that shone in the bright lights of the overhead lamp, and the raw fear returned with a vengeance.
He saw her reaction to the scalpel and smiled. ‘I’m going to cut you nice and slowly with this. Just because I can. Then I’m going to fuck you. Even though you’re not my type. Far too old, I’m afraid,’ he said with a wink. ‘I like them nice and fresh. But I want to violate you. Humiliate you. And then, when I finally grow bored, and your famous spirit finally breaks, you’re going to disappear, just like all the others.’
She met his eye, knowing that whatever happened, there was no point begging for mercy because that would only give him satisfaction. The bastard was turned on enough as it was. She wasn’t going to play along for him.
‘You cowardly bastard,’ she said, before she could stop herself, a pitying look on her face. ‘Is this how you killed those little girls? When they were helpless? I bet that makes you feel a real big man, doesn’t it.’
‘Slut!’ he hissed, his face contorting with rage as he lashed out with the scalpel.
She felt a hot, sharp pain on her cheek and let out an involuntary scream.
Wise came closer so her view was completely dominated by his face, and she could smell his breath. ‘I’m going to cut you to pieces, you whore. You had your chance to walk away. To live. Instead you try to take me on. You’ve been an annoying little fly for a long time now, and now it’s time to make you pay.’
She ignored the warm sensation of the blood flowing down her face, the rage returning to her as she struggled in her bonds.
‘Sorry, my dear, but I don’t think you’re going anywhere. Are you?’ He reached down and grabbed her roughly between the legs, pinching her through the material of the shorts. Grinning at her.
‘You cowardly little runt,’ she snarled back at him. ‘You can’t do anything unless your victims can’t fight back. You’re absolutely pathetic.’
He slapped her hard round the face. ‘How dare you talk to me like that? I’m a fighter, do you understand that? A fighter. That’s how I got to where I am today. To all this. I’ve got more money than you’ll ever have.’ He released his grip and gave her a dismissive sneer. ‘You’re nothing. Nothing at all. And soon you’re going to be buried in my garden along with the others, in a place where no one can ever mourn you. Where you’ll be mine for ever, and where I can piss on your bones every single bloody night.’
She looked at him with utter loathing. ‘Fuck you.’
‘Brave words,’ he said, calmer now, looking at his watch. ‘I’ve got a business meeting I need to attend, but first I think I’ll just make you suffer a little for being so offensive.’ He eyed her carefully, much as an artist might view a half-finished canvas. ‘I think I’ll have one of your nipples.’
She struggled against her bonds as he pulled away her shirt and bra and squeezed her right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then twisted and writhed on the gurney with a furious desperation, making it impossible for him to make a decent cut.
He stepped away, looking irritated, and dropped the scalpel on the gurney. ‘Right. It seems I need to get those hands of yours in proper restraints. That way you won’t be able to put off what’s coming to you.’ He turned away and rummaged in an overhead cupboard before coming back with a half-full bottle of clear liquid and a filthy-looking rag. He poured some of the liquid on to the rag and loomed over her. ‘Time to say nighty-night.’
In one last fit of desperation, Tina let loose an ear-piercing scream, her voice reverberating around the room.
And then, a second later, there was a huge crash and the door flew open.
Fifty-six
From her restricted viewpoint, Tina just had time to see Dennis Milne tumble painfully down the steps, and the clatter of something bouncing across the floor. Then there was a shocked, uneasy silence.
Unable to believe he was still alive, Tina twisted her head as far as she could, but Wise was standing in the way with his back to her. It didn’t sound like Milne was moving.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ demanded Wise, more anger in his voice than fear. ‘And where’s my security?’ He bent down then stood back up, gingerly holding Milne’s gun. ‘Answer me, you arsehole.’
He stepped away from the gurney, which was when Tina saw Milne properly. He was sat up against the opposite wall. His shirt was almost completely covered in blood and his face was grey. She wanted to call his name, to tell him it would be OK, but her heart was already sinking. He couldn’t help her. He was dying.
And then, as Wise stood over Milne, pointing the gun down at him, Tina noticed something. The scalpel Wise had cut her with was still sitting on the gurney, no more than a few inches from her right hip. If she could just get hold of it, she could cut the restraints binding her wrists behind her back.
She twisted her body so she was almost on her side, reaching out with her fingers, unable to see what she was doing any more as she tried to locate it.
‘Answer me!’ shouted Wise, and she heard the muffled sound of a kick to the body. Milne made no sound himself. ‘Where’s my security? What’s happened to them?’
The tip of Tina’s middle finger touched the handle of the scalpel. Straining with every sinew, ignoring the terrible pain in her arms and the blood dripping down her face, knowing that Wise could spot her at any time, she managed to use her fingernail to pull the scalpel towards her, until finally she was able to grip it properly between her fingers.
She relaxed on to her back, positioning the blade so it was resting against the restraints, and began carving as fast as she could.
Wise was staring up at the open doorway while Milne sat unmoving beneath him, his head hanging to one side. ‘If you can’t answer my questions, then you’re not much use to me, are you?’ said Wise, turning back to Milne and raising the gun in both hands. ‘Want to watch this, Tina?’
He glanced across at her, and she stopped cutting, hoping he didn’t notice that her back was raised several inches from the gurney.
He didn’t. Instead, he squinted down the gun’s barrel and squeezed the trigger.
Nothing happened. It wouldn’t move. He hadn’t cocked the gun.
Tina kept cutting desperately, her teeth clenched with the effort, ignoring the blood that was still running down her face on to the mattress, hatred driving her on.
She felt the scalpel cut flesh, winced against the pain, kept going.
Wise seemed to realize his error, and gingerly pulled back the hammer, releasing much of the tension in the trigger, and making it far easier to pull.
The restraint fell away from Tina’s hands, but as she went to unstrap the one holding her neck in place, Wise turned and saw her. His expression darkened and he pointed the gun at her. ‘Don’t move, bitch!’ he yelled, but there was real panic in his voice and Tina ignored him, grabbing desperately for the neck restraint.
Wise squeezed the trigger again, this time putting real effort into it, and the gun fired, filling the room with smoke and noise.
But he’d made the amateur’s mistake of aiming too high, and the bullet missed her.
She pulled the strap free, released her ankles and rolled off the gurney as he made to fire a second time, grabbing the open box full of surgical tools on the table and flinging it at him.
As he ducked out of the way, she charged him down, screaming at the top of her voice.
He swung the gun back in her direction, his eyes widening as he realized it was too late to pull the trigger, and then she was on him, driving the scalpel deep into his cheek, and sending them both crashing into the wall, only just missing Milne.
Wise cried out and fell to his knees, dropping the gun. She pushed him down so she was sitting astride him, the rage tearing through her. Seeing the gun on the floor, she snatched it up and pushed the barrel into the centre of Wise’s forehead
, cocking the weapon. Wanting so desperately to fire. But stopping herself. A drop of her blood landed on his cheek.
‘We know about the bomb,’ hissed Tina, forgetting the fact that it was still just a theory. ‘Where is it? Tell me now or die.’
‘Just inside the lounge,’ he answered shakily as blood pumped from the deep cut on his cheek, all the arrogance gone from him now. He looked like a fat, frightened child, his eyes scanning hers for mercy. ‘Please don’t hurt me. I know I’ve done wrong—’
‘Shut up.’ She climbed off him and dragged him to his feet by the lapels of his suit, using the barrel of the gun to push him against the wall, taking no satisfaction in the fact that her theory had been proved correct. It would have been a lot easier if it hadn’t been. ‘Dennis, are you OK?’ she asked, without looking round. ‘Can you walk?’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said weakly. ‘Leave me here. Get the bomb and get out.’
She risked a look over her shoulder. He was leaning on one elbow, and though he still looked awful and his shirt was red with blood, and her chances of saving him were minuscule . . . even after all that, she knew she couldn’t leave him here.
She stepped back from Wise, and helped Milne up. ‘Come on, you can make it.’ Somehow she got him up and let him rest against her shoulder. ‘What did happen to his security?’
‘I killed them. Both.’
‘Well, if you can do that, you can get out of here. Come on.’ She helped him forward and told Wise to start up the steps. ‘And don’t try a thing, otherwise I’ll put a bullet in your spine, you little shit.’
Wise looked absolutely petrified, and did exactly as he was told, moving slowly enough so he wouldn’t give Tina any cause to carry out her threat, while Tina herself hauled Milne over to the steps, and began dragging him up after Wise.
‘I can manage,’ he grunted. ‘Make sure you don’t lose that bastard.’
Knowing he was right, she let go of him and kept close to Wise until they were back in the hallway. She stood behind him, pushed the gun into his back and waited for Milne to crawl out of the doorway and slowly get to his feet.
‘What type of bomb is it?’ she snapped at Wise, pointing the gun at his head, her hand absolutely steady.
‘I think it’s one with radioactive materials,’ he answered nervously, taking an instinctive step backwards. ‘But I’m not sure.’
‘Who are you selling it to?’
‘I don’t know. The deal was set up by his boss,’ he said, nodding towards Milne.
‘Bertie Schagel?’
‘That’s him.’
‘But the people buying it are coming here, aren’t they? That’s why you had the security?’
Wise sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘When?’
‘Any moment. If you leave here now, you might still miss them.’
‘We need the bomb first.’
‘It’s dangerous to handle. If it goes off, this whole island will disappear, and us with it.’
But it was a risk Tina knew she was going to have to take. She needed to get it off the island so they could either dump it at sea or alert the authorities.
She glanced at her watch. It was seven minutes past eight. ‘Take us to it.’ She gave him a shove.
With Milne following slowly, Wise led them the length of the hallway, past the open front door where the Russian who’d tried so hard to kill her these past few days lay dead on his back, before turning into a huge, sumptuous-looking living room with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides.
‘There,’ said Wise, as Tina followed him in.
An innocuous black box-style attaché briefcase sat in the space behind the door. But two things set it apart from one any office worker would carry. Firstly, it was bigger than usual; and secondly, there was a button with a small red light next to it just below the locking mechanism on the case’s hinged frame. The light was off.
For a few seconds, Tina stared at it – still keeping the gun trained on Wise – thinking about the people, like Nick Penny, who’d died because of this ordinary-looking case, and the many others who would suffer the same fate if it fell into the wrong hands.
Milne came in behind her, and slowly shut the double doors. His face was deathly pale, and he was leaning against the handle. ‘There are people here,’ he said quietly. ‘They’re just outside.’
Tina cursed, and glared at Wise. ‘How many of them are there?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said nervously, sweat running down his brow. ‘I’ve never dealt with them before.’
She could hear them now, talking quietly in a foreign language, sounding like they were just inside the front door.
‘Is there a back way out of here?’
Wise nodded, and pointed to a pair of closed French windows at the far end of the room.
Milne stepped forward uneasily, and picked up the case. He looked at Wise. ‘What’s the code for arming this thing?’ he whispered.
Wise didn’t answer.
Milne turned to Tina. ‘Make him tell me.’
She could hear the whispered voices coming closer, only just the other side of the lounge doors now. Once again she raised the gun and pointed it at Wise’s head.
‘Nine-one-one,’ he whispered quickly. ‘To arm and disarm.’
Milne flicked the wheels on the case’s combination lock and the red light immediately came on.
Which was the moment when the double doors opened and a group of hard-faced Filipino men in cheap suits appeared in the doorway, the front two holding guns.
Tina grabbed Wise and used him as a shield as she retreated towards the French windows, pointing the revolver at the newcomers.
The men began to shout in Filipino, clearly confused by the situation, looking like they were about to fire at any second.
‘No one move or this goes off!’ shouted Milne with surprising force in his voice as he stumbled away from the wall, his thumb hovering over the bomb’s external detonation button.
He stood between Tina and Wise and the gunmen.
Again, there was more agitated shouting in Filipino. Tina had been in enough volatile situations to know that these guys could start shooting at any moment. Her grip round Wise’s neck tightened, but she could detect a change in him. He too was looking for an escape route.
‘Tina, get the hell out of here, OK?’ said Milne, without looking round. ‘And make sure you kill that little runt you’re holding. Then run as fast as you can.’ As he spoke he retreated as well, so that all three of them were moving together in the direction of the French windows and freedom.
And then he stumbled and fell to one knee, and his finger momentarily moved away from the button.
One of the Filipinos yelled something – it sounded like an order – and both gunmen aimed their weapons at Milne’s head.
Tina fired first, aiming as low as possible, the recoil from the round sending her arm jerking up into the air. But she hit her target, the gunman on the left, and he lurched backwards, prompting the rest of them to exit the room and pull the doors to for cover, one of them poking a gun round the woodwork and cracking off a couple of wild shots.
Tina fired again, aiming through the door, and the .45 round left a golfball-sized hole in it. Someone shouted out from the other side – whether in fear, anger or pain, she couldn’t tell – and for a moment there was silence.
Milne was trying to get to his feet, but as Tina leaned forward to help him up, Wise scrambled free of her grip and bolted for the French windows, yanking them open. She didn’t even have time to curse. Instead, using a strength born of pure adrenalin, she pulled Milne and the bomb back towards her, ignoring the fact that it might go off at any time as she concentrated all her resources on simply staying alive.
One of the gunmen behind the doors opened up again with a couple of wild shots. This time they passed too close for comfort, and Tina pulled the trigger on the .45 for a third time.
Except nothing happened. She was out of bullets. And W
ise was escaping.
‘Shit!’ she yelled, realizing they were sitting ducks.
And then, with an almost superhuman effort, Milne tightened his grip on the case, regained his feet, and he and Tina lurched through the French windows and on to another veranda.
‘Get out of here, now!’ grunted Milne, his bone-white face contorted, as he stumbled over to the far balustrade.
Tina could see Wise running along a grass verge at the bottom of a flight of steps that ran down from the end of the veranda. She had to get him.
At that moment, the doors to the lounge were flung open and three Filipinos came charging into the room, all of them holding guns. Seeing Tina, the first one fired, his bullet shattering glass.
Tina took one last look at Milne, saw him topple over the edge of the balustrade, still clutching the briefcase, and then, keeping her body as low as possible, she darted across the veranda in pursuit of Wise.
Fifty-seven
Wise had a head start of twenty yards, but he was middle-aged and out of shape, and Tina was fitter now than she’d been in years, a legacy of all that time in the gym. A year and a half ago she’d been walking with a slight limp, courtesy of the bullet in the foot she’d received from a man who was working for Paul Wise, but now her only reminder of the injury was a raised misshapen scar. Now she ran ten K three times a week.
Now she was running for her life.
And for payback.
She took the steps three at a time, jumped the last four, and sprinted along the narrow verge, with the wall of the villa on one side and a steep drop down to the tree line on the other. There was more shouting in Filipino from up on the veranda, and a shot cracked past her head. Holding her nerve, and trusting that handguns fired at moving targets in darkness were rarely accurate, she kept running, bursting through the tree line just as three more shots rang out in quick succession, ricocheting through the undergrowth.
The trees ended, to reveal a rectangular swimming pool sitting in the midst of a newly mown lawn, with views down to the sea cut out of the greenery. Wise was ten yards ahead of her, making for more trees on the other side. As her feet hit the flagstones by the pool’s edge, he looked over his shoulder, saw her, and tried to increase his pace.
The Payback Page 27
