Terror's Reach

by Tom Bale

  Ukrainian had lost the will to fight. It was over.

  Fifty-Five

  The prisoners pleaded to be released, even after they’d watched Priya

  kill Turner. In her view, they should think themselves fortunate that

  she’d spared them from the same fate.

  For now, anyway.

  As she hurried next door, she pondered Turner’s last words. Could

  Liam and Valentin still be alive? And did it really matter? Maybe she

  was better off taking his advice and getting out of here. Empty-handed,

  but free. Wasn’t that the best option?

  Quite possibly. But she couldn’t do it. There were things she had

  to know first, things that mattered more to her right now than freedom.

  More than life or death.

  From the entrance hall, Priya reconnoitred the main living rooms

  and found nothing. But she could hear noise off to her left, where

  she knew Felton’s little leisure complex was located: a gymnasium

  and games room over two floors.

  She climbed the stairs, wondering if the main bedroom would be

  empty. She felt sure that Felton, having thwarted their robbery, would

  be unable to resist gloating over the contents of the panic room.

  On the upper landing she heard more activity coming from the

  gym. It sounded like a fight in progress. She went the other way,

  towards the bedroom. The door was shut and she couldn’t hear

  anything, but her intuition told her it was occupied.

  She checked the MP5, took a deep breath and opened the door.

  She made sure the barrel of the gun went in first, pointing downwards.

  She was counting on the guards to recognise the weapon as

  belonging to one of their own and relax, just for a second.

  The room contained two people, but only one guard. He did relax,

  and it only took a second. Priya fired a short burst and cut him down

  before he’d even begun to comprehend who she was.

  The room’s remaining occupant was cringing on the floor. Slowly

  he looked round and stared at her in amazement.

  'How did you — ?’

  'Sshh.’ Priya kicked the door shut behind her and pulled the knife

  from her pocket.

  Joe staggered away from Yuri, then grimly awaited Felton’s reaction

  to the Ukrainian’s defeat. Before either of them could speak there was

  the harsh rattle of gunfire from the other side of the house.

  Felton frowned at his men. The one guarding Valentin spoke briefly

  into his microphone, waited for a reply, then shook his head. 'Nothing.’

  'What’s he playing at?’ Felton murmured to himself. He leaned

  over the balustrade and addressed the other guard, who was standing

  just outside the squash court. 'Go and find out what that was about.

  We can watch Joe from here.’

  Joe studied the distance from the squash court to the doorway out

  of the gym and reluctantly concluded that Felton was right. There

  was no way he’d outrun an MP 5.

  Having sent someone to investigate the shooting, Felton’s attention

  returned to the court. So did Valentin’s, and for the first time this

  evening his mood perked up and he managed a smile.

  'My man wins,’ he declared.

  'Not yet he hasn’t.’ Enjoying the bafflement on Valentin’s face,

  Felton indicated Yuri, still on his back and gasping with pain. 'Not

  while my man’s still breathing.’

  Oliver followed the intruder at a safe distance, which meant he could

  hear but not see who it was. The warning voice in his head grew shrill

  as he climbed the stairs. You risked your life to escape from this snakepit,

  and now you’re going back in voluntarily . . .

  It was a foolish act. Quite reckless. But he didn’t care. If he was

  caught, so be it.

  He heard the bedroom door open, but by the time he reached the

  hallway the intruder had entered the room. The subsequent gunfire sent Oliver dashing into the bedroom next door to hide. The noise

  was bound to bring a call for reinforcements.

  Sure enough, within seconds he heard footsteps approaching. Only

  a single set, though. Clearly his father didn’t want to be dragged away

  from the entertainment in the gym.

  Pressing his ear to the dividing wall, Oliver strained to hear what

  was happening next door. No machine gun fire this time, just several

  distinct clicks, followed by a heavy thud. Then voices, urgent and

  excited —

  'No,’ said Oliver. He clamped his hand over his mouth.

  A few more seconds and there was movement in the hall again.

  Oliver hurried to the door, opened it a fraction and saw two figures

  in black striding purposefully along the corridor. One of them was

  Liam, newly released, carrying a silenced pistol.

  The other one, armed with an MP5, was Priya.

  Joe said: 'I won’t do it.’

  'Then you haven’t won,’ said Felton. 'If you want to claim victory,

  you have to finish it.’

  Joe glanced down at Yuri. He was a pathetic sight, moaning softly,

  his one functioning eye flickering like a worn-out TV. He seemed to

  be drifting in and out of consciousness and probably had no idea that

  his fate was being discussed in such a callous manner.

  You want me to kill the man who made all this possible for

  you?’

  'He’s certainly been useful. But I don’t think you could argue that

  he’s anything but a liability in the longer term. Could you?’

  Felton looked to Valentin, who spared Yuri a brief, lizard-like

  contemplation, his tongue flickering over his lips as he meditated on

  his verdict. Observing him, Joe saw a man whose entire outlook was

  now governed by one thing and one thing alone: self-preservation.

  Then Valentin said: You should kill him.’

  'No.’ Joe turned and strode to the opposite corner of the court. The

  barrel of the MP5 tracked his movement.

  'Sure about that?’ Felton asked.

  'I won’t be party to killing a defenceless man.’

  'Very well.’

  Joe braced himself as Felton turned and whispered something to

  the guard, who promptly stepped closer to the balustrade and opened

  fire.

  The shots boomed like thunder around the tight walls of the court.

  Yuri’s body was pummelled by the impacts, the bullets plucking at

  his shirt. A spray of spent cartridges rained down on them and Joe

  turned away, shielding his face, wondering if Yuri felt it coming or if

  it was over too quickly to feel anything; then wondering if he was

  about to find out for himself.

  Fifty-Six

  Priya stopped when she heard shooting from the direction of the games

  room. She hid her face away from Liam, so he wouldn’t see what she

  was thinking.

  Am I too late?

  Liam stood beside her, waiting for instructions. From the moment

  Priya had cut him free there had been no question that she was in

  charge. Even now, with a gun in his hand, she doubted that he had

  the nerve to challenge her authority.

  She wasn’t entirely comfortable that he carried a weapon, but it

  gave her some useful support, at least for the time being. If nothing

  else she could use him as a decoy.

  Admi
ttedly it had been quick thinking on his part to frisk the man

  she’d killed. And finding a handgun with a silencer meant he’d been

  able to shoot the second guard without alerting Felton.

  But it had been a messy kill. After dragging the first man out of

  sight beyond the bed, Priya had hidden in the entrance to the dressing

  room while Liam had resumed his position on the floor, apparently

  still handcuffed.

  The second guard had entered the room, assumed that Liam posed

  no threat, and turned to search for his colleague. Liam had pulled

  the gun and fired. The first bullet only winged the man’s shoulder, the

  second missed altogether, and the third got him in the stomach as

  he dived for cover and would have been fatal if not for his body

  armour.

  The guard hit the floor with enough presence of mind to bring his

  own weapon up and level it at Liam. Before he could get off a shot,

  Priya leapt out and stabbed him in the neck.

  'How many more?’ she’d asked.

  Liam had taken longer to recover, his hand trembling as he stared

  at the body. 'S-sorry, I fucked that up . . .’

  'How many?’

  'Um, only one more of these fellers, I think. Plus Yuri, and Felton.’

  'What are they doing in the gym?’

  Liam gave her a garbled explanation about some sort of duel between

  Joe and Yuri, with Valentin standing to win a gold bar if his man

  triumphed.

  'Not that he’s got a hope. But the bloody gold in there, Priya.’ Liam’s

  face lit up as he realised they now stood a chance of reconstituting

  the original plan. 'Wait till you see it. Makes all this worthwhile, and

  then some.’

  Before leaving the room Priya had exchanged the magazine in her

  MP5 for a fresh one taken from one of the dead guards. Wisely, in

  her opinion, Liam had chosen to stick with the handgun.

  Now she considered how best to use the firepower at her disposal.

  The decision made, she jabbed a finger at the stairs.

  You go down, through the gym. I’ll go this way. Whoever gets a

  clear sight on the guard takes him out, all right?’

  For about a minute after Priya’s departure there was an uneasy silence

  in the garage. Nobody moved. Nobody could be sure it was safe.

  Then Terry grinned boyishly at Angela. 'Well, I guess we can sit

  around like lemons and wait for whichever bunch of bastards wants

  to kill us next. Or we can try to get out of here.’

  Angela nodded, and managed to summon a smile of her own. 'My

  thoughts exactly. First we need to find a knife. Something sharp, at least.’

  Because she was the only one who’d been cuffed with her hands

  in front of her, it made sense for Angela to carry out the search. Terry

  objected to this, on the basis that whoever did it faced the risk of

  punishment if Priya should return.

  Angela put him right. 'Terry, if that damn woman comes back I

  suspect we’ll all be in big trouble.’

  She made straight for the body of the guard that Priya had

  killed. The restraints on her ankles meant that she had to move in

  a kind of ungainly shuffling crawl. It was a slow and demanding

  task, made worse by the sheer quantity of blood on the garage floor.

  The smell repulsed her, as did the warm, sticky feel of it on her

  hands.

  Then, when she reached the guard’s body, she had to search his

  clothes and feel inside his pockets. It was an appallingly intimate act:

  a desecration, almost. A couple of times she retched and had to stop

  and look away, breathing slowly through her mouth until the nausea

  receded. She had to disassociate herself from the reality of what she

  was doing, and concentrate on what was at stake.

  The first stage of that objective was to find a knife, and she did. A

  thin-bladed dagger in a leather sheath. She cut her ankles free, stood

  up and nearly fainted as the blood rushed from her head.

  Feeling ridiculous, but cheered on by the encouragement of the

  other prisoners, Angela tottered back to the group, brandishing the

  knife like a prize, praying that someone wouldn’t march in with a gun

  at the very moment when escape seemed like something more than

  an absurd fantasy.

  The guard checked that Yuri was dead, then stepped back from the

  balustrade. Joe experienced a mixture of confusion and relief. He was

  still alive – but for how long?

  Felton barely glanced at the body. He turned to Valentin, briskly

  moving to the next item on his agenda.

  'Congratulations. I must confess, I hadn’t expected Joe to perform so

  well. That could present us with a problem.’ He gave a brief, mirthless

  chuckle. 'Perhaps I’ll have to make him an offer he can’t refuse.’

  You’re welcome to him.’

  Felton looked at Joe and tutted, as if to say: How’s that for loyalty?

  'Very well,’ he told Valentin. 'We’ll fetch your gold just as soon as

  we conclude the terms of the main deal. What do you say?’

  'I have no choice,’ said Valentin, with a touch of petulance. 'But I

  don’t see how you can make this work.’

  'It’s perfectly straightforward. Liam and Priya arranged a robbery.

  You were an innocent victim, the same as everyone else on this island.

  I was in the South of France, but thankfully some of my security team

  were here, guarding the house. They were captured at first, but after

  several hours they managed to escape. A fierce battle ensued, in which

  most of the gang were killed.’

  'Most?’

  'I think we have to spare Liam. Maybe Priya, too, if she’s willing

  to play along.’

  And my family?’

  You’ll tell the police they’re in Brighton, just as you planned to

  do. They’re no part of this.’

  'But you still keep them?’

  'Until everything’s signed and sealed.’

  Valentin nodded, but he looked disgusted. Not surprisingly, Joe

  thought. Felton had every detail nailed down.

  'Very well,’ said Valentin at last.

  'Excellent.’ Felton clapped his hands together. He wore a look of

  intense satisfaction that lasted only until he caught the guard’s eye.

  'Has Briggs reported in yet?’

  The guard shook his head. Spoke into his mouthpiece and then

  coughed. A fine mist of blood blew from the side of his neck.

  Joe saw his chance and ran for the door at the back of the squash

  court. He wrenched it open, then froze.

  'Nice try,’ said Liam. He was standing just inside the gymnasium,

  holding the silenced pistol that had killed the guard. Up in the gallery,

  Priya had an MP5 trained on Felton. Her boiler suit was caked in

  blood: she looked like she’d just crawled out of an abattoir.

  It was the first time Joe had seen her without her mask. He was

  shocked by the contrast between the startling perfection of her face

  and the cold, jaded look in her eyes.

  Liam stood on tiptoe and peered through the glass at the body on

  the squash court. 'Jesus. I’d have put a grand on Yuri winning that

  one.’

  'I got lucky,’ said Joe.

  You sure did,’ Liam agreed. 'Until now.’
/>
  Fifty-Seven

  While Priya cut Valentin free, Joe slowly backed across the squash

  court. Liam followed, walking up to the glass wall, where he was in

  full sight of the people on the floor above. That was when Felton

  spotted him and groaned, as if he’d just been thinking it couldn’t get

  any worse, and then it had.

  But there was another side to Felton’s character, Joe realised. The

  reckless gambler. The supremely arrogant businessman, buoyed by

  years of success and accustomed to flattery and deference on every

  continent. That side was evident when Felton asked, scornfully, 'What

  happened to my team?’

  'They’re dead,’ said Priya.

  You’re kidding me. Who did it?’

  'Who do you think?’

  'Good grief.’ Felton looked Priya in the eye and jeered. A skinny

  little runt like you?’

  It seemed like a deliberate taunt, designed to provoke a reaction. For

  that reason, perhaps, Priya responded with nothing more than a warning

  look. It was Valentin who lost his temper, swinging a well-telegraphed

  punch at the other man’s jaw. Felton easily dodged the blow, stuck out

  his foot and sent Valentin to the floor in a clumsy sprawl.

  Liam’s spluttered laugh earned a rebuke from Priya. No one spoke

  while Valentin climbed slowly to his feet, burning with humiliation.

  Felton shook his head as if disappointed to face an adversary of

  such poor quality. 'Oh, Priya,’ he said in commiseration, 'I suppose

  you think this gives you the upper hand?’

  To Joe’s eye, it seemed there was almost a glint of admiration in

  Priya’s smile. 'Doesn’t it?’ she asked.

  'Not really. I think my proposal is by far the best option.’ He pointed

  at Valentin, as if expecting him to concur. You see, unless we play it

  my way an innocent woman and two young children will die a slow,

  lingering death.’

  Priya was spectacularly unimpressed. 'Maybe. But you’re still going

  to open that room full of gold.’

  She was a far better poker player than Valentin, who turned on her.

  You don’t get to—’

  Priya shushed him, reaching out and patting him gently on the

  arm. It was an oddly affectionate gesture, and Joe wasn’t the only one

  to take note of it.

  For the first time since Priya had walked in, Felton looked taken

  aback. 'Something you’re not telling me?’ he asked Valentin.

  'We want the gold,’ Priya said. 'In return, we’ll spare your life.’