by Jason Dean
Without moving his head, Bishop looked left. He saw four more chair legs a few feet away. Nothing to his right. So he was the only captive. Unless that extra chair meant they were expecting someone else to join him. Maybe Kidanu.
He heard sounds of movement to his right. Saw a shadow on the floor.
A fist suddenly smashed into his right cheek, just below the eye. Bishop’s head snapped to the left while his bound arms held his body in place. The chair remained totally stationary. It didn’t move an inch. Obviously attached to the floor.
Bishop spat a large globule of blood and saliva. It landed on the floor, close to the hitter’s black shoes. ‘I’m awake,’ he said.
‘Sure about that?’ a harsh, nasal voice asked. ‘Cos I got plenty more if you want it.’
Bishop spat a second time, then raised his head. The room was maybe thirty feet by thirty. Illumination came from a row of halogen lights in the high ceiling. No windows. There were two doors that he could see. One in the left wall and one straight ahead. Both were shut. Other than the two chairs, the only piece of furniture was an old, long wooden desk pushed against the right-hand wall. As he’d guessed, the room’s other occupants were the two guys in suits from the gas station.
One of them was perched on the desk with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, watching Bishop. He was of medium build, had a full head of prematurely greying hair and wore tinted spectacles. The other man was standing two feet to Bishop’s right. He was about twenty pounds overweight with a prominent pot belly. His dark hair was cropped close to his skull, like Bishop’s. He also had eyes like pool balls, with plenty of white space around the dark brown pupils.
Crazy eyes.
Grey Hair swung his legs and said, ‘Okay, so you’ve had your nice rest. Now it’s time for a few answers. Like where’s Kordić?’
‘I don’t know,’ Bishop said. ‘What’s a Kordić?’
The fat one lashed out again, his fist smashing Bishop in the jaw. Bishop’s head swivelled round ninety degrees and he tasted blood. He spat on the floor again. More red.
‘One more time,’ Grey Hair said mildly. His voice was fairly deep. Bishop noticed a hint of Boston in there. ‘Janko Kordić. Where is he?’
‘Look, would it help if I told you I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about?’
Fatboy pulled his arm back for another shot.
‘Hold off for a second,’ Grey Hair said with a raised hand, and Fatboy relaxed. ‘Let’s cut the shit, okay, Bishop? We know you drove back from the Canadian border early this morning. Once we got the make of car and the licence plate from the rental agency, it was easy. There are only a few routes you could have taken, and we had them all covered. We finally caught up with you just before you stopped off at that rest area for your meeting with that Fed. So let’s not waste any more time. Janko Kordić was the man at the farm. Now what did you do with him?’
Bishop thought fast. If they’d seen him at the rest area, they must know Kidanu was with him. Did they grab him, as well? Or was he already dead? Maybe they’d purposely waited until they were separated so he could snatch Bishop alone. A smart man like Klyce would probably want to avoid having a group of very angry Konambans after his blood if he could help it. Or was Bishop overestimating him? Only one way to know for sure.
‘I don’t talk to the hired help,’ he said. ‘Get me Klyce.’
‘Who?’ Fatboy said.
Bishop looked at him and shook his head. Clearly not the brains of the operation. Grey Hair seemed to have a glimmer of intelligence, at least. He glared at Bishop for a moment, then he removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth, reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a smart phone. He wiped his index finger across it a few times and brought it to his ear. He began talking, but all Bishop heard was an indistinct muttering. After about thirty seconds, Grey Hair came over and stopped five feet in front of Bishop. He held out the phone and said, ‘Talk.’
‘Who’s on the other end?’
‘Who do you think?’ Klyce’s voice said through the speaker. ‘You and your sister have been causing me a lot of problems recently, Bishop. I’m getting truly sick of you and your whole goddamn family.’
‘They told me you were out of the country,’ Bishop said, ‘or I would have come to see you in person. When did you get back?’
‘What difference does it make to you? No more screwing around, Bishop. I want to know what you’ve done with Kordić, and I want to know now.’
‘He’s safely hidden.’
‘Where?’
‘Forget it, Klyce,’ Bishop said. ‘I thought you might try something, so I took him as my bargaining chip. Get your goons here to untie me and I’ll tell you where I stashed him.’
A soft chuckle came through the speaker. ‘That was smart, Bishop. Except what if I told you I’d also decided to take out a little insurance of my own? Would that surprise you?’
Bishop said nothing and kept his face a mask. He had a feeling he’d just been outmanoeuvred. And that he probably wasn’t going to like what came next.
‘No response?’ Klyce asked. ‘In that case, we better force one out of you. Mickey, do the honours.’
The fatboy, Mickey, snickered and walked towards the door on the left. So it looked like they’d grabbed Kidanu after all.
Mickey opened the door and disappeared into the adjoining room. Then he came out again, gripping his bound captive by the arm.
It wasn’t Kidanu.
Staring back at Bishop with wide, frightened eyes was his thirteen-year-old niece, Lisa.
SEVENTY
Bishop felt his skin go cold. He tried to swallow, but found there was a large cotton ball stuck in his throat. Lisa. God, not her.
She was wearing a brown suede jacket over a black T-shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers. Her shirt was crumpled as though Mickey had simply yanked her from the other room like a toy doll.
Bishop could already feel the rage threatening to take over. Lisa’s eyes were moist and she was sniffling. She had her hands cuffed behind her and duct tape across her mouth. Her blond hair was in disarray and falling across her face. Bishop tried to calm himself and keep his expression neutral. It was difficult, but he didn’t want to frighten her even more.
All he could think was they must have snatched her when she came out of her school building on 182nd Street. Which meant Bishop had more than just these two to worry about. Her kidnappers would also be around somewhere. Maybe keeping a lookout.
From bad to worse.
He made a silent oath that whoever grabbed her would pay for abducting her and bringing her here, but it was an empty promise, given the circumstances.
‘How’s our guest taking this new development, Jeff?’ Klyce’s tinny voice asked.
‘Well, he’s a lot paler than he was,’ Grey Hair said, smiling.
Klyce chuckled. ‘Wish I could have seen his reaction for myself. I find a young family member works so much better in these kinds of situations, don’t you agree, Bishop?’
Bishop didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d probably only make things worse. If that were possible. He and Lisa already knew too much to be allowed to leave here alive.
‘Mickey,’ Klyce said, ‘have you offered the little lady a seat yet?’
‘On it, Mr K.’ Mickey grinned as he dragged Lisa across the room and threw her at the chair at Bishop’s left. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. Bishop breathed heavily through his nose, getting angrier with each second. He forced himself to keep it in check as Mickey grabbed Lisa by her shirt and pulled her to her feet. Still grinning, he positioned her in front of the chair, placed a palm against her left breast and pushed. Lisa fell back onto the chair. She didn’t cry. She must have known that would only exacerbate matters.
Smart girl. Her mother’s daughter.
She turned to Bishop, sniffled, and shook her head once.
‘I know, Lisa,’ Bishop said. ‘Just hang in there. I’ll get us out of this.’
�
�That’s the stuff,’ Klyce said. ‘And you can start right now with Kordić’s location.’
Bishop felt doubly glad that he’d memorized the relevant parts of that street map while waiting outside the farm. Now he brought to mind one of the westerly routes, quickly calculating the distances. Anything over an hour’s drive would strain belief, so it would have to be somewhere within sixty miles of the farm. What was that weird-sounding street he’d seen off the 41? Frazzle Road? No, Frizzell Road. That was it.
‘I’m waiting,’ Klyce said.
‘What guarantee have I got that you’ll let Lisa go if I tell you?’
‘None. But I can guarantee she’ll regret it if you don’t. Now where’s Kordić?’
Bishop took a deep breath. ‘I gave him enough Propofol to put him out for twenty-four hours, then tied him up and stashed him in an old abandoned farmhouse I found. It’s about sixty miles east of your place.’
‘He better still be there, Bishop. That’s all I can say. Now give me the precise directions. And just so you know, I’ve got a street map on the screen in front of me.’
‘Okay. You need to follow the 401 east for about fifty miles until you reach Napanee. Then you take the Highway 41 North exit and keep on that for another ten or twelve miles. Somewhere around there on the right, there’s a street called Frizzell Road. About half a mile along that road, you’ll see an overgrown driveway on the left that leads to this decrepit-looking farmhouse. You’ll find your guy in a windowless room at the back.’
There was silence on the line that stretched out for twenty seconds. Then Klyce said, ‘Okay, that all jibes with the map. Jeff, you and Mickey keep our guests on ice while I get Jed to check this out. You should hear from me again in an hour.’
‘You got it, Mr K.’ Jeff hung up and placed the cell in his jacket pocket.
‘Goons, huh?’ Mickey said, raising a fist. ‘That’s not nice.’
Bishop tried to turn his head in time, but Mickey was too fast. The sledgehammer connected with his jaw and spun his head around to the left. That one was definitely going to leave a mark. Bishop probed his lower teeth with his tongue, but none felt loose.
‘I’d be careful around Mickey here,’ Jeff said. ‘He’s got a fairly short fuse.’
‘Yeah, I noticed,’ Bishop said.
Jeff smiled, then went over and perched on the desk again, pulling the unlit cigarette from his pocket and placing it in his mouth.
One hour, Bishop thought. Just one hour to come up with something.
This Jed would surely find Frizzell Road without a problem, but everything after that was pure fantasy. But even if he had hidden Kordić there, they’d still have to kill him and Lisa. All he’d done was buy some time, so he’d better start making use of it. Because there had to be a way out of this. There had to be.
Mickey was sauntering back to the room where they’d held Lisa. He came back out with an old office chair and placed it beside the girl. He sat down and whispered something in her ear, then reached into his pocket and pulled out Bishop’s balisong.
And Bishop had thought the situation couldn’t get any worse.
Mickey tried flipping it open one-handed and failed. He turned to Bishop and said, ‘This is some piece you got, Bishop. How do the gangbangers flip it open like they do?’
‘Don’t ask me.’
‘Well, I got an hour to get the hang of it. This sweet little thing here can watch me as I practise. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, honey?’
Lisa clamped her eyes shut. Bishop tried to avert his gaze, but it was difficult. The poor girl was being brave, but she was also terrified. And Bishop wasn’t doing too well himself. By grabbing Lisa, Klyce had gone straight for his weakest point. But Bishop had to find a way to keep himself distanced and focus on the job at hand if he was going to find a way out of this. He had to. Because they didn’t have much time left.
Something vibrated against his leg. His cell phone. So these two hadn’t removed all his possessions. If he still had his cell, what else did he have? He turned to his left and looked down at Lisa’s hands. Her restraints looked like zip ties rather than flex cuffs. Which meant his restraints were probably the same. That was good. They were still no walk in the park, though. It depended on what else they’d left him.
Bishop moved his fingers until he could feel the back of the chair. He went lower and his fingers touched the back of his pants. He shifted in the chair and felt something hard dig into his butt. Good. He inserted the fingers of his right hand into the slit of his back pocket. When they touched metal, he almost smiled. They’d left him his house keys. He felt along each one until he reached his miniature multi-tool key fob. With thumb and index finger, he pulled back the slide device and detached it from the keychain. Then he very carefully pulled the tool from his pocket.
He just wished he’d gone for the full multi-tool, rather than the flightsafe version. But he could only use what he had. And what he had was a combo bottle cap opener and wire stripper, a nail file with a flat-head screwdriver at the end, and a blunt, inch-long saw containing a half-dozen widely spaced teeth.
Not much, but they’d have to do.
Bishop carefully extracted the saw tool, then tried to adjust his hands and get it into position. It was difficult. The zip ties were high up on his wrists, which meant he had to bend his left wrist all the way back before the saw made contact with them. But once it did, Bishop raised his head to keep Mickey and Jeff in sight, then began to slowly move the miniature saw back and forth across the hard plastic. Back and forth. Back and forth . . .
Fifty-seven minutes later, Klyce still hadn’t called back. Bishop was making decent progress. Or he believed he was. He checked again with his free hand. Almost through the plastic now. Just a little more to go.
Mickey was still playing with the knife and trying to open it with one hand. And still failing dismally.
Lisa was keeping her eyes on the floor as much as possible, probably wondering when she was going to wake up from this nightmare. Bishop wished he could give her an answer.
Jeff was still perched on the desk, playing with his phone.
That was the good news. If you could call it that.
The bad news was Bishop still hadn’t figured out a way of disarming and immobilizing his two watchdogs once he got free. They hadn’t shown him their firearms, but he knew they were packing as surely as he knew night follows day. And all Bishop had was a miniature version of a very blunt saw. And that wasn’t taking into account the guy who’d snatched Lisa. Maybe a fourth guy, as well.
And if that weren’t bad enough, the muscles in his arms felt numb from having been in such an awkward position for so long. Once he was through the cuffs, he’d have to get the circulation going again somehow.
The first few bars of an old Nirvana track suddenly echoed through the room. Mickey stopped playing with the knife. Lisa’s head snapped upright. She quickly glanced at Bishop, but his attention was on Jeff, who pressed something on the cell phone in his hand. The music immediately stopped and he brought the phone to his ear.
That’s it, Bishop thought. Time’s up.
SEVENTY-ONE
Jeff just listened for a while. Then he got off the desk and walked over to Bishop. He looked vaguely disappointed as he held the phone out again. ‘Go ahead, Mr K.’
‘Bishop, you’ve just made a very bad mistake,’ Klyce’s amplified voice said. ‘One your pretty little niece is now going to pay for. Then you, right after.’
Bishop heard a sharp intake of breath at his left. He didn’t dare look at Lisa. He just kept rubbing the saw along the plastic at his wrists. ‘What are you talking about?’ he said. ‘I gave you the right address.’
‘Frizzell Road? The street exists all right, but my man found no abandoned farmhouse anywhere along it. What did you do with Kordić? Kill him and dump the body in a forest somewhere?’
‘Why would I kill him? I didn’t even know his name until Jeff here mentioned it.’
; There was an audible sigh on the line. ‘You’re a half-decent actor, Bishop. I’ll give you that. But you’ve had your chance and my patience is at an end. Jeff, I know we usually keep them breathing until they’re at the yard, but I can’t get away right now, so do it at the warehouse and make sure you clean up after. We might need to use that place again. Then call me back when it’s done. And Mickey, I know what you’re like, so don’t spend too long on the girl. If I don’t hear back from you within half an hour, I’ll be angry.’
‘I’ll be done before then, Mr K,’ Mickey said happily.
‘Fine,’ Klyce said. ‘Goodbye, Bishop, you stupid son of a bitch.’
The line went dead.
Mickey gave a loud whoop. He jumped to his feet and flipped open the balisong again. ‘I think I’ll do you first, baby,’ he said to Lisa. He turned to Bishop and smiled. ‘And you get to watch, smartass.’ He closed the knife, then opened it again. He was having fun.
Jeff shook his head at Bishop and said, ‘He’s right, you know. You really are stupid.’
Lisa was sobbing faintly in the next seat. Bishop just kept working on the zip ties. He was almost there.
A loud, electronic buzzing sound filled the air. Muffled, as if it was coming from another room. Then again.
Mickey suddenly had a revolver in his right hand. A .357 Magnum with a four-inch barrel. ‘Who the hell’s that?’ he said.
‘Quiet,’ Jeff hissed, pulling a Glock from under his jacket. He pointed it at Bishop’s head. ‘Use your knife on this guy. Now.’
‘No way. He gets to watch. It’s part of my plan.’
Jeff sighed. ‘Okay, get over here then, but put the gun away. No noise. If he shouts, cut his throat. Whoever’s at the door, Mal will let us know once they’ve gone.’
Bishop felt the saw cut through the last strand of plastic. He quickly grabbed hold of the zip tie before it could fall on the floor, and palmed it. Mickey had holstered his piece and came over to stand at Bishop’s side. He pressed the edge of the blade against Bishop’s neck. Bishop just hoped he didn’t look down at his hands.
