‘What?’
‘I want you to give her a gun,’ Soler told him. ‘Give her the one the chief inspector had on him when he arrived.’
A fleeting grin passed over Julio’s lips as he reached into a pocket and pulled out Cámara’s standard issue Heckler & Koch USP, then he went over to help free up Alicia while José Antonio watched over Cámara.
Alicia could barely sit up straight, her body limp with pain. Her face was grey and her shoulders curled defensively inwards. As she tried to shake some life into her legs, wincing with the pain, she lifted her arms to cover her breasts.
But Julio snatched at her wrists and pulled them away. With one hand he flicked off the safety catch on the pistol and then placed it in Alicia’s hand, keeping his grip over it.
‘Stand away, José Antonio,’ he said. ‘Unless you want to get covered in more blood.’
José Antonio took a couple of steps back, then in one quick motion Julio pulled out his other gun – which was fitted with a silencer – and placed it against Alicia’s head.
‘It’s simple,’ Soler said from the other side. ‘Save us the trouble of killing your lover and your own pain stops now. The burning, I promise, will stop.’
And he turned to face the wall.
‘Clean up the mess before I turn around,’ he said to Gonzalo.
Julio pushed his pistol harder against Alicia’s head.
‘Of course, if you don’t do what you’re told, it will only make things worse. And I mean really a lot worse.’
Alicia held the gun limply in her hand and stared down at Cámara on the floor.
‘I’m going to count to three,’ Julio said. ‘If you haven’t shot him by then I’ll kill him myself. Then start on you again. Understand?’
Alicia was motionless.
‘One!’ barked Julio.
She raised her hand, the gun shaking as she tried to point it at Cámara.
‘Two!’
Her finger whitened as it began to press on the trigger.
‘Three!’
And she fired.
THIRTY-SEVEN
SPLINTERS OF CONCRETE spat into his scalp as the bullet smashed into the wall just centimetres above his head.
Alicia let the pistol fall into her lap and closed her eyes, her hair sweeping over her face.
Julio rammed his gun against her head, almost pushing her over, then pulled back and punched her with his left hand. She fell to the floor, curling into a ball, her naked back convulsing with sobs.
‘Stupid fucking bitch!’
José Antonio decided to join in, and planted a kick against her lower spine.
‘Can’t do it, then?’ Julio called down. ‘Can’t shoot your fucking boyfriend? We’ll just have to do it for you. And make you fucking watch.’
Cámara felt the beginnings of shock start to worm their way into his blood. He had stared down that gun barrel, and in the doubt of the moment, had thought he was going to die. But he knew now that Alicia had deliberately fired too high, was incapable of murdering him, no matter what they threatened her with. And something in him changed; he felt an immense space – white, pure and unsullied – begin to push against the pain and open up in him: a world of potential.
José Antonio walked over to Cámara and pulled out a gun, pointing it at his head.
‘Can I do it? Please, Julio. The cunt almost ripped my throat out. Let me do it. I want to do it.’
‘Wait,’ Julio said. ‘We’ll have some fun first.’
José Antonio lowered his gun a touch, then took a step forward as though about to shoot. Cámara did not flinch.
‘Hah!’ José Antonio laughed. ‘Just kidding.’
Julio was standing over Alicia and called to the second thug.
‘Gonzalo, come here and give me a hand.’
Gonzalo walked over.
‘You’re all right to turn around,’ Julio said to Soler.
The fat, older man spun on his heel. His white eye was twitching nervously behind the protection of his glasses.
‘Change of plan?’ he said.
‘Time for some R and R before we get back to work.’
Cámara registered the pseudo-military style of talking. Julio and Gonzalo picked Alicia up by the arms. Her body was limp in their hands and her feet dragged along the floor.
‘Over here,’ Julio said. ‘On the table. Face down.’
They propped her torso at right angles over the tabletop; her legs drooped over one side and her head hung heavily over the other.
‘Gonzalo, you hold that arm. José Antonio, you take the other.’
As the two young men moved into position, Julio grabbed the top of Alicia’s knickers and yanked them down her legs. Alicia began to struggle.
‘No,’ she screamed, kicking against Julio. ‘No!’
‘Hold her tight, boys.’
Julio wrapped his arms around her thighs, forcing her still, and continued pulling her knickers down until they hung from only one foot, the black cotton fabric catching just above her ankle.
Alicia continued to scream, but was no longer formulating coherent words. Her head bobbed up and down on the other side of the table as she filled her lungs and wailed as loudly as she could.
Her naked buttocks tensed as she pulled her hips in, trying to curl her body inwards, away from danger. But the table was in the way and restricted her movement. Gonzalo took a step closer and pressed a hand down into the centre of her back, forcing her to keep still.
Julio’s trousers now fell down around his knees and he pulled out his cock.
‘Are you ready for this?’ he asked Cámara. ‘Wouldn’t want you to miss anything.’
And he shuffled forwards, readying himself to penetrate.
‘You ready to get a dose?’ Cámara coughed.
Julio stopped.
‘What?’
Cámara cleared his throat of blood and mucus.
‘You ready to get a dose of the clap? Because that’s what you’re going to get if you do it.’
Julio paused, his cock pressing against the top of Alicia’s thigh.
‘Fuck off.’
Cámara saw the doubt in his eye.
‘She’s a slag,’ he said. ‘Fucks anything. And then brings it home to me. The itching started yesterday. In a couple of days they turn to sores. And believe me, they hurt like fucking hell.’
Julio took a step away.
‘It’s not the first time. She’s a bloody nympho. Great in bed but you never know where she’s been.’
‘You’re lying,’ Julio said. He believed every word of it.
‘Take a look if you want.’ Cámara nodded down at his crotch. ‘It’s already red and sore. And the creams never work properly. Takes weeks to get rid of.’
Julio glanced over to Gonzalo and José Antonio.
‘Perhaps no R and R after all,’ Soler grinned from the other side of the room. ‘Come on, let’s finish this off. We’ve wasted too much time as it is.’
Alicia’s back rose and fell quickly as she caught her breath. Gonzalo took his hand away and grabbed the back of her hair, lifting her face up to him.
‘I reckon we can still have some fun,’ he said.
He undid his trousers and reached inside.
‘If she’s such a goer as he says she is, she’ll enjoy this.’
He pushed his cock towards her mouth. José Antonio placed his gun against her head.
‘Do it or I blow your brains out,’ he said.
Alicia clenched her teeth and began to whimper.
The three thugs were now huddled around her. For a second they had forgotten about Cámara. It was his only chance.
He slipped a foot under his hips and hauled himself up. After only two strides he was next to Julio and with a sharp, jerking motion he cracked the point of his forehead against his skull, just above his ear. Julio fell to the floor with a deep groan.
Jumping over him, Cámara threw his weight against José Antonio, falling down with him as the man lost his grip
on his gun and let it clatter across the floor. Gonzalo was unarmed and it was essential that Cámara take out the two men with pistols as quickly as possible.
He heard shouting. José Antonio was wriggling beneath him, but Cámara was searching again with his teeth for something soft and vulnerable. He felt a hard kick crashing against his ribs, then hands reached around his neck, tightening over his trachea.
‘Get him off me!’ screamed José Antonio.
A shadow fell across them and Gonzalo’s grip on his throat loosened.
‘That’s enough. Get up.’
Soler had picked up José Antonio’s gun and was standing over them. He planted the sole of his shoe against Cámara’s face and pushed him off.
‘Put him and the girl against that wall,’ he told Gonzalo calmly. ‘And finish them. Do it now.’
José Antonio sprang up and helped Gonzalo drag Cámara over to the other side of the room.
‘Let me do it,’ said José Antonio. ‘Let me shoot him. Please.’
‘Shut up,’ Soler ordered. ‘You’ve fucked things up enough already. Gonzalo, make yourself decent.’
Gonzalo hitched his trousers up.
‘Now take the girl over there as well.’
Julio was lying on the floor, his hands wrapped around his head.
‘We’ll sort him out in a minute,’ said Soler.
Gonzalo pulled Alicia off the table, stuck an arm beneath her waist and carried her over towards Cámara. Her knickers still dragged from one foot and she wrestled to pull them up again.
‘Make them kneel, facing the wall,’ said Soler.
Gonzalo dumped Alicia on the floor, pushing her lower legs under her with his foot so that she crouched on her haunches. Then he prodded at Cámara to get into the same position.
‘Here,’ said Soler. ‘Come and take this pistol. And make sure you execute Cámara first.’
Gonzalo stepped over to take the gun. Cámara’s mind was racing but no solution, no plan came. He wriggled his hands behind his back, trying for a last time to loosen the knot.
A finger pushed into his palm and he stopped. Alicia had shuffled over on her knees to be closer to him and held out a hand to touch his. He looked into her eyes and gripped her finger as tightly as he could.
‘I love you.’
Gonzalo was walking back towards them holding the gun.
‘Don’t fuck it up,’ Soler said. ‘I’m going to turn away now.’
‘She moved!’ José Antonio shrieked. ‘She fucking moved closer to him.’
‘Calm down,’ said Gonzalo in a low voice. ‘They’re not going anywhere now.’
Cámara felt the hairs rise on his spine; it was almost as if he could see the gun pointing at the back of his head.
And suddenly the racing stopped and he stepped once more into the empty white space.
‘I love you too,’ he said.
THIRTY-EIGHT
THE BULLET PASSED through Gonzalo’s right shoulder, throwing his weight backwards and spinning down to the floor. Before José Antonio could react, Torres had trained his Heckler & Koch at his head and shouted.
‘Drop it now! Now!’
José Antonio panicked, his eyes white with fear, his own gun still firmly gripped in his hand. He made to shoot, but a second figure ran towards him, low and fast, and tackled him to the ground. The gun went off and the bullet punched into the ceiling.
Cámara spun on his knees to see Daniel burst in from the direction of the tunnel and throw himself at José Antonio, wrapping his arm around his neck. Dídac had joined him and was prising the gun out of the thug’s hand.
‘Careful with that.’
Torres walked quickly towards them, his gun still outstretched. Gonzalo lay on the floor, panting and pale. His left hand was pressed against his shoulder, where blood was beginning to seep through his T-shirt and spill on to the floor.
‘Fuck . . .’ José Antonio continued struggling against Daniel until Dídac finally loosened the gun from his grip and stood up, pointing the weapon in his face.
‘Police!’ Torres shouted.
Soler had stood with his face turned away, but now turned hesitantly to see. Things had not gone as expected.
At the sight of Gonzalo’s blood staining his white floor red, his knees buckled under him and he fell, clutching at his stomach and retching.
Cámara loosened his grip around Alicia’s finger and tried to get to his feet, but his legs refused to obey.
‘Torres,’ he tried to say, but his voice caught in his throat.
Still standing over Gonzalo, Torres called over to Daniel.
‘Throw him face forwards on to the ground.’
When José Antonio was finally prostrate, Torres walked over, pulled out some cuffs and hooked them around his wrists. Then he took out a second pair and handed them to Dídac.
‘Slip them on,’ he said, and pointed towards Soler, still doubled over in the corner.
‘The other one’s all right,’ Torres said. ‘But we’ll have to get him some medical attention fast.’
Cámara detected a movement at the side of the group. Julio had lain silent and motionless throughout, but now began to stir. Leaping to his feet, his gun still in his hand, he started running in the direction of the tunnel.
Torres spotted him and spun round to take a shot.
‘Stop!’ Cámara shouted.
The bullet hit the wall, spattering cement shards behind Julio’s back.
And Julio kept running.
Torres aimed for another shot.
‘Don’t!’ Cámara called.
Julio disappeared from view, down into the tunnel and away.
Torres lowered his weapon slowly.
‘You want him to get away?’
‘Yes. I do.’
‘All right,’ Torres said. He holstered his pistol. ‘It’s your call, chief.’
Dídac had taken off his shirt and vest. The first he wrapped around Alicia’s waist, like a makeshift skirt. The second he placed over her top. She shivered in his arms, eyes closed, hands pressed against her face.
Torres handed his pistol to Daniel.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘Watch over this lot.’ He nodded towards Soler, Gonzalo and José Antonio.
‘I need to find a spot with a signal.’
He whipped his phone out of his pocket and walked up the stairs, away from the ticket area and closer to the surface.
Cámara shuffled over towards Alicia. Dídac hopped over towards him and pulled out a knife. A moment later he had freed his hands. Cámara reached out towards Alicia and she collapsed into his arms.
‘Laura Martín got in touch,’ Dídac whispered as Cámara and Alicia rocked slowly together. ‘Like you told her to. But she spoke to Torres as well. He looked for us at the refuge and we came as fast as we could.’
‘How did you get here?’ Cámara asked.
‘Ran down the tunnel,’ Dídac said with half a grin. ‘Brought us straight to you.’
Torres returned from making his call.
‘My ex-wife,’ he said. ‘A couple of her friends are nurses. They’ll be here soon. I’ll have to open up at the top, let them in.’
Cámara sighed with relief: Torres had understood. No police involvement, nothing official. They had to keep this to themselves.
‘Call Laura as well,’ he said, looking down at Alicia nestling against his chest. ‘I think we’re going to need her.’
Torres glanced across at the two men in handcuffs.
‘And Albelda,’ Cámara added. ‘But only Albelda. We can trust him.’
Twenty minutes later, the two nurses had arrived with a medical kit and were attending to Gonzalo. Albelda stood watch over the two other prisoners, while Laura, having brought blankets and drinks, was with Alicia.
‘We’ve got to get them both to a hospital immediately,’ she insisted.
Cámara mopped himself clean with some of the nurses’ bandages. Strength was slowly returning to his body, driven by the nex
t step he knew that he had to take.
‘They need specialist care.’
‘Take them quickly,’ he said. ‘But no word to anyone about what’s happened here. Not until I say. This stays strictly between us.’
He leaned down and kissed Alicia on the forehead. She reached out to cling to him and he embraced her, holding her gently and firmly in his arms.
‘It’s all right,’ he whispered.
Her tears flowed into his chest, mingling with the blood soaked in his shirt.
‘I need to go, my love,’ he said. ‘I need to finish this.’
Very slowly he pulled himself away. Her body shivered with pain and fright.
‘Laura will look after you. She’s a friend.’
He kissed her on the cheek.
‘I’ll be back very soon.’
It was the hardest thing he had ever done, but there was still so much to do, and they needed to move quickly.
He hobbled towards Torres and leaned on his shoulder. Torres placed his arm around his ribs to help support his weight and gave him his pistol.
‘There’s only one place Julio will have gone,’ Cámara said.
Torres nodded.
‘I’m going to need your help one more time.’
THIRTY-NINE
‘A WOUNDED BULL has its querencia, the place in the ring where it feels safest, where it returns to as often as possible. All we have to do now is go to Julio’s querencia.’
‘And arrest him?’
‘And wait. He’s hurt and frightened and won’t want to be alone for long. He’ll be looking for guidance, for someone to tell him what to do next.’
‘But we’ve got Soler, his boss.’
‘Soler is only a manager. Someone else is directing, someone with an enormous amount of power. It’s why we have to move quickly and quietly. It’s why it’s only you and me.’
‘Look, chief. About what happened . . .’
‘It’s all right. Really.’
‘I should never . . .’
‘Forget it. It’s over. You saved Alicia, you saved me.’
‘I almost fucked things up.’
‘We’ve been manipulated from the start. But it’s not always clear who’s been trying to pull our strings.’
Delayed shock from the events in the bunker vibrated in his blood, like static from an ill-tuned radio. He was forcing himself to carry on, feeding off the nervous tension, converting it into fuel for one more step.
Blood Med Page 24
