Dance with the Enemy (The Enemy Series)

by Rob Sinclair

  The tone of Logan’s voice betrayed that the death of his friend was still a source of pain and discomfort for him. That was the first time he had ever seen someone die. The first time he had ever seen a dead body. He still regarded it as the key turning point in his life.

  ‘I thought I was a man back then,’ he said. ‘But I wasn’t. I was a kid. I had been in scrapes before and had always come out on top. I thought I was invincible. Thought we were invincible. But you learn about these things the hard way.

  ‘A few days later, when I was out of hospital, I was approached by a guy. He told me Pete was undercover, working for him.’

  ‘And that was the agency?’

  ‘Kind of. He said he wanted me to finish Pete’s job for him. Finish off the Yardies.’

  ‘My God – what, you killed them?’

  ‘No, I told the guy to go fuck himself. Said if he ever came to me again, I’d cut his balls off. I wasn’t really in a good frame of mind at that moment.’

  Grainger laughed. ‘Wow, you’ve got some real good interviewing skills.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he must have liked my response. He didn’t go away. He started paying me odds and sods to do errands. Finding out info, spreading rumours. I never really asked questions about who he was or why he was getting me to do these things. I didn’t have much else to do and he was giving me easy money. Not long after I started running those errands, the Yardies were dead. Murdered by another gang. He’d had me setting the bait without me even knowing it.’

  ‘That’s pretty sneaky.’

  Logan nodded. ‘This was all for some other agency at this point. A specialist unit dealing with organised crime. Not who I work for now. But it was the same guy. He moved up in the world and took me with him. When I started in that new role, when I was nineteen, they got me the training. How to fight, how to use knives, guns. They taught me just about everything I know. Turned me into a machine.’

  The last words were said with bitterness, the only bitterness he’d shown in the whole retelling.

  Grainger moved her fingers up to the long scar on his neck. ‘What about this one?’

  ‘No,’ he said, taking her hand and pushing it back down to his chest. ‘That’s enough about me. What about you?’

  She ignored the question and moved her hand back. ‘That’s the one, isn’t it?’

  ‘The one what?’

  ‘The one that hurt the most.’

  Yes, it was, he thought. But there was more than just his pain the night he’d received it.

  ‘The one that’s given you the anxiety,’ she said.

  His body was now tense again. The ease and relaxation he’d felt was quickly ebbing away. She caressed the area and he tried to remain calm, tried to keep his mind on her and not the pain.

  ‘What happened?’ she said.

  He brushed her off him and got up off the bed, then walked towards the bathroom.

  ‘I’m sorry. Just give me a minute.’

  ‘It was Selim, wasn’t it? Who did that to you.’

  He didn’t answer as he headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He hung his head over the sink, unsure what to think. He was glad he had opened up to her. Talking to her about his life had given him a feeling of great power. But he wasn’t yet ready to broach the subject of his history with Selim. The pain from that experience was still all too real, too vivid in his mind. And his business with Selim was unfinished. He wanted to tell Grainger about his experiences, what Selim had done to him, he really did. But not yet.

  He washed his face in cold water that stung the wounds he’d received in his fight with Lorik and sent a shiver through his whole body. After drying his face he headed back out to the bedroom and stood in the doorway, looking at Grainger. She was sitting upright on the bed, the upper half of her body exposed, the lower half tangled in the soft bed sheet. She looked sensational. She gave him a smile. It wasn’t a light-up-your-face smile. But it was enough. Being there with her made him feel stronger than he could ever remember.

  ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you for listening.’

  ‘Try me, anytime.’

  He walked over to the bed and lay back down next to her. Her body felt warm against his. He was about to lean in for a kiss when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Housekeeping,’ said a male voice in French.

  Logan and Grainger both laughed at the ruined moment. Logan jumped off the bed and fished on the floor for his discarded clothes.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ he said.

  Grainger stood up. ‘Sure. Tell them to come back later. I’ll jump into the shower.’

  She picked up her pile of clothes from the floor before making her way to the bathroom. Logan threw his clothes on and headed to the door.

  He placed his eye up to the spy hole, a spontaneous reaction, but couldn’t see anything. It didn’t surprise him much. The hotel wasn’t the cleanest or most modern so the spy hole was probably clogged full of grime.

  He put his hand out to the handle, turned it and began to pull the door open. It was ajar only a few inches when he saw the two figures outside, dressed in dark clothes, their faces covered by masks.

  And as the man on the right thrust the butt of his baseball bat forwards, Logan immediately regretted his decision to open the door so brazenly.

  Chapter 43

  Grainger was just turning the tap in the shower when she heard what sounded like the front door slamming shut. She was about to shout out to Logan, to see whether he’d managed to get the cleaner to go away, but then stopped herself when she heard a loud thump coming from the bedroom, followed by mumbled voices.

  Her instincts were instantly on alert. She closed off the water and quickly dressed herself, then pressed her ear up against the bathroom door. She withdrew sharply when she heard Logan cry out, and then more thudding noises. Her heart began to crash in her chest. She strained her ears, trying her best to make out who was out there, how many people there were, what they were saying. No more sounds came. But she knew what was happening. Someone had come for them. Selim? The remnants of Blakemore’s men?

  Her head was in a spin. What was she going to do?

  A thought struck her. Did whoever was out there even know she was in the bathroom? If not, shouldn’t she just keep herself hidden?

  But then Logan had been willing to risk his life for hers.

  She crept up to the door again and jumped when there was a gentle tap on it from the other side.

  ‘We know you’re in there, Agent Grainger,’ the man said in an accent so thick the English was almost unintelligible.

  Grainger gasped and lifted a hand to her mouth. A cold shiver swept across her. They knew her name?

  ‘Please come out now. Or we’ll cut his throat. And then we’ll cut yours too.’

  ‘Angela, come out,’ Logan shouted. ‘It’s the only way.’

  She heard a thumping sound and a groaning exhale from Logan. What choice did she have?

  She put her hand out to the door and opened it. As soon as she did, the man standing on the other side grabbed her arm and pulled her into him, spinning her around. He was big, as wide as he was tall, and his thick arm wrapped around her neck like a boa, holding her close up against his body and squeezing her tight. She hadn’t seen his face; it was covered with a fancy-dress mask, a caricature she hadn’t recognised in the brief glimpse of it she’d had.

  As she looked over toward the bedroom door, she saw Logan on his knees. Another man, dressed similarly to the first in dark clothes and a mask, was standing behind him, a baseball bat held tightly across Logan’s neck.

  Logan looked into her eyes. No pain, or fear. Just pure anger.

  With his thick arm wrapped around her, she could sense the muscular bulk of the man who was holding her, hear and feel his breath on her neck. He smelt of stale sweat and cigarettes and a sickly sweet aftershave; the combination made her gag.

  The man squeezed harder on her neck and
Grainger writhed and scraped at his arm, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

  Logan began to laugh. The man behind him pulled harder on the baseball bat. Logan winced as he did so, but he didn’t stop laughing.

  ‘You really don’t want to do that to her,’ Logan wheezed.

  ‘No?’ said the man behind Grainger. He squeezed her neck even harder, and Grainger thought her head might actually explode.

  Her mind was going into a panic. It felt like the man was crushing the life from her. She stared deep into Logan’s eyes, not sure what he was doing, not sure what he was expecting her to do.

  ‘Believe me,’ Logan strained to say. His face was red, his eyes bursting out of his head. ‘I’ve been there before.’

  Grainger didn’t need a second invitation. She knew exactly what Logan meant. She mustered all the power she could as she raised her right leg and threw her foot back and up, aiming for the man’s groin. The connection was solid and the man let out a loud groan, weakening his grip on her neck just enough. She immediately took a deep gulp of air.

  There was a commotion over where Logan was being held, but she was too engrossed to pay attention to what was happening. She had to assume he was making his move too.

  Before the man holding her had a chance to recover, she thrust back an elbow, aiming for the point just around his waistband where his bladder was. The elbow dug deep and his legs kicked out involuntarily as she’d known they would, causing him to stumble backwards. He took her with him, but his grip around her neck was now almost gone entirely.

  She grabbed at his arm, pulling it down, then swivelled her body around. Now at his side, she delivered a double-blow: she aimed a fist downward, making contact at the side of his leg, just above the knee, causing it to buckle inward, and almost immediately she smacked him with an open palm up against the base of his neck. He fell into a heap on the floor. Before he could move an inch, she delivered another blow to the back of his neck, and he was out cold.

  Four strikes was all it had taken to fell a man more than twice her size. She’d aimed for pressure points that she knew would make a difference. Tricks her dad had taught her when she was just a skin-and-bone teenager.

  Only when she was content that the man was no longer a threat did she look over to where Logan had been. He was now sitting upon the other masked man, whose arms were pinned down by Logan’s knees. Logan’s face was snarling but he was otherwise restrained. Not at all like he had been with Lorik.

  ‘Nice moves,’ he said, looking up at her and winking.

  ‘Not so bad yourself,’ she said.

  Logan pulled the mask off the man he’d felled. Grainger didn’t recognise him. His eyes were rolling, his head lolling from side to side. He was conscious, but completely dazed.

  ‘Who sent you?’ Logan snapped, the anger in his voice clear.

  The man murmured a sound but no words came out.

  Grainger moved over to where she’d left her gun, stuffed under her pillow on the bed. She picked it up and checked the chamber, a habit.

  Logan jumped up, went over and grabbed his gun too, then returned to the man. He knelt down on him and stuffed the barrel of the gun into his mouth.

  ‘Logan, no!’ Grainger shouted.

  The man began to moan and writhe. Logan took the gun out of his mouth.

  ‘Who sent you?!’ Logan spat.

  The man again murmured but whatever he had tried to say was indecipherable. Logan grabbed the barrel with his other hand and, with a backhanded swipe, he smacked the butt against the man’s jaw. Blood and teeth spluttered out of his mouth.

  ‘Who sent you?!’ Logan screamed.

  He grabbed the man by the scruff of his neck, lifted his head up into the air, then smacked it off the floor. Once. Twice. A third time. His body squirmed for just a second. After that, he went still.

  ‘Stop it!’ Grainger screamed. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’

  She shook her head. She was just as angry as Logan that they had been attacked, and just as confused as to who the two men were, but the brutally of Logan’s methods, which seemed to come so naturally to him, shocked her.

  She was also scared. Just who was after them? All she wanted to do now was to go, as fast and as far away as they could.

  ‘We have to go, Logan. We don’t know who else is out there.’

  ‘Shit,’ he said, sitting back.

  Moving to the side, he quickly rifled through the man’s pockets, but other than a set of car keys there was nothing there. He stood up and marched towards the bathroom where the other man lay slumped near to the doorway. Grainger held out a hand to him but he brushed past and crouched down next to the man.

  ‘Logan, I’m going,’ she said, turning away from him and making towards the door. ‘We don’t have time for this.’

  She wasn’t sure whether she really meant it, whether she really would have walked away and left him there with the two men. But in the end it didn’t matter. As she reached the bedroom door, she heard his voice from behind her.

  ‘Okay, there’s nothing more we can do here. I’m coming with you.’

  Chapter 44

  Logan and Grainger jumped into the Fiat and sped out of the hotel car park. They hadn’t spoken to each other since leaving their room, even though they’d moved in unison like two long-time partners, scanning and scoping out the area as they’d made their way to the car. There had been nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of anyone else after them.

  Logan was again driving the car. There was only one place he knew to go to now. The JIA safe house. Although he was somewhat reticent to do that, knowing that if Mackie were there he would surely only be walking into a confrontation that he didn’t want to have, it had to be the safest option.

  ‘Who do you think they were?’ Granger asked after they’d been driving for more than ten minutes.

  ‘I don’t know. I was trying to find out.’

  Grainger tutted. ‘There’s no need to be like that with me.’

  She was right, but he didn’t feel like apologising. He could still feel the rage boiling up inside him. Yet another emotion that he was so inept at keeping under control.

  ‘Where are we going anyway?’

  ‘I’m going back to Paris.’

  Grainger didn’t respond initially. ‘Why?’ she said eventually.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Where else would we go? It’s the only place that I’m sure is safe.’

  ‘Do you think it would be better if I stayed around here? I’d be out of harm’s way with the police team. I could help with the work going on at Blakemore’s. There’s nothing in Paris for me.’

  They reached a T-junction and Logan stopped the car and looked over at her. She seemed upset. Let down, even.

  He was still seething inside. Not with Grainger, but with the situation. He wanted to know who those men were. He wanted to make whoever had sent them after him pay. But he also knew the special moment he’d been having with Grainger had been ruined. Which only made him all the more angry. It was pointless to take it out on her, though.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For our time together having been spoilt like that.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ she said, putting a hand on his thigh and giving it a squeeze.

  Her touch made just a sliver of anger dissipate. He turned to the right when the road was clear, then glanced over at Grainger again. He didn’t like the prospect of leaving her behind, but at the moment they were stuck. Until there was another lead to follow, he simply had no idea what to do next. He guessed her being at Blakemore’s house had to be the best way to keep on top of the case. She’d surely be safe with the police and FBI team there. And he was content that he could handle himself if anyone were to follow him and confront him.

  ‘Are you sure you’d be okay if I left you?’

  ‘You really don’t think yet that I can take care of myself?’ she said, smiling at him.


  It was true, she certainly had a few good moves.

  ‘Okay, where shall I drop you off?’ he said.

  ‘Just take me near to where we stopped in the night. I’ll walk from there.’

  Logan didn’t say anything more. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and then waited for the right moment to turn around. It would only take thirty minutes to retrace their way back to Blakemore’s house.

  After heading a few miles back the way they’d just come, Logan’s phone began to ring. He knew it would be Mackie. He and Winter had been calling on and off for hours. Logan had not been deliberately ignoring them. There’d just been no opportune time to answer.

  ‘Go on, take it,’ Grainger said.

  He only hesitated for another second.

  ‘At least I now know you’re still alive, I suppose,’ Mackie said without any pleasantries.

  ‘Why, were you not expecting me to be?’

  ‘Well, funny you should ask that, but this time I wasn’t sure. You’re making a lot of enemies on your little mission.’

  Logan gritted his teeth. Did Mackie know about the two men at the hotel? How could he?

  ‘Who were they?’ Logan snapped.

  ‘I can’t explain now,’ Mackie said, all but confirming Logan’s suspicion. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Two grunts paid a visit to our hotel room. They shouldn’t have bothered.’

  ‘Are they still alive?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I’m trying to help you here, Logan.’

  ‘I’m struggling to see how. But to answer your question, yes, they’re alive.’

  ‘Good. I’ll get the local police down there straight away. See if we can get hold of the two attackers.’

  ‘Who were they?’ Logan asked again.

  ‘You need to come in,’ Mackie said, his disregard for the question only riling Logan further. ‘I can help you, Logan, but you have to come in first.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  ‘So is she still with you?’ Mackie said. Not shouting exactly, but the irritation and anger in his voice was evident.