by Chris Thomas
She strode up the path, her hands in the pockets of her light grey jogging trousers, her zip-up hoodie done up to the top. Pausing for a minute, she looked back to check the positions of Stan and Eric, before pressing the doorbell. Waiting a few seconds, she rang it again, holding the button down longer this time. Still no answer. She decided it was time to try another tack and smashed her fists four or five times on the door. Finally, through the frosted glass window, she saw movement, stepped away from the door, and turned to face away from the house.
She heard him swearing before the door opened.
‘What the fuck is it?’ shouted Saeed, as he stared at the back of the hooded person stood down his pathway.
Daisy opened her eyes and slowly turned around, pulling the hood from her head. For a moment, the two of them just stood there, frozen to their spots, staring into each other’s eyes. It took a moment to register, but eventually Saeed’s mind returned to the squalid room in the house where he kept his girls, where he had stared at this piece of meat through the crack in the door after having taken what was his. This didn’t really seem like the same pathetic creature from a couple of weeks ago, but no worries, he knew he had a hold on girls like this. Once he had them under his control there was very little they could do. And this one returning to his house just proved that even when they wanted to escape, they couldn’t.
‘Hello, Saeed,’ said Daisy, not taking her eyes away from his.
‘Daisy,’ replied Saeed, an arrogant smirk written across his face. ‘What a nice surprise. I say surprise, of course I knew you’d come crawling back. Scrubbers like you always do.’
‘Absolutely, because you are such a big man, aren’t you, Saeed?’ said Daisy. ‘But the truth is, I came back to kill you.’
Saeed looked at her blankly, and slowly his face changed into a picture of pure amusement. A snigger at first, followed by a huge bellowing laugh.
‘That’s brilliant,’ he said, after regaining his breath, as Daisy stood stock still, her face emotionless.
‘Not only kill you,’ she continued, ‘but make you suffer. For what you did to me and for what you did to all the other girls as well.’
‘Like I give the slightest fuck about anything a pathetic little skank like you has to say.’
‘Oh, Saeed,’ said Daisy, softly, as she moved closer to him, gently cupping his cheeks in her hands. ‘Perhaps you should.’
The two held eye contact, gazing deep into each other’s souls, just the two of them in silence. Then, mustering all of the hatred that had built up in the last few weeks, Daisy thrust her knee into Saeed’s groin, as hard as she could. He yelped in agony and dropped to his knees, grabbing her leg as he fell. She fought against it, pulling her leg away as hard as she could. Saeed held on as he fought against the pain radiating through his stomach.
‘Shit, get in position,’ said Eric, as he saw the commotion unfold. Within seconds, Stan was moving his car closer to the house.
Daisy turned and fell. Seeing the safety of the car a few metres away, she tried to crawl away, grabbing hold of anything she could find – fence posts, branches – but Saeed resisted as he waited for the pain to subside. Finally, he regained enough of his strength to grip her legs with both hands and pull her back towards him, before manoeuvring himself on top and pinning her to the path.
‘I’m going to enjoy this,’ he smirked, raising a hand and slowly and very deliberating making a clenched fist, ensuring that she could see exactly what he was doing. ‘As if a pointless piece of gutter trash like you could come round here and threaten me.’
Before he could land his punch, his head was rocked backwards as the toe of a boot connected with his chin. He lurched back, grasping his face.
‘Quick, get up,’ said Stan, grabbing Daisy by the arm, ‘and get in the fucking car, now.’
Daisy didn’t need asking twice and stumbled to her feet, running through the open passenger door of the car parked behind the black BMW.
‘Come on, you little fucking pussy,’ said Stan, bending over Saeed. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’
He slapped him mockingly around the face, before following Daisy into the car. Saeed’s anger boiled over, and the surge of adrenaline quelled the pain in his stomach and face. He rose to his feet and watched as Stan’s car slowly pulled away down the road. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he ran to his own car, leaving the house’s front door wide open, pulled the car door shut, and quickly took off in pursuit.
Daisy turned around to look out of the rear window. ‘He’s taken it. He’s coming after us.’
‘Good, you’d better put your seatbelt on.’
Stan drove as quickly as he could whilst trying not to draw too much attention to their cars. In the rear view mirror he could see the bright xenon headlights of Saeed’s BMW catch up quickly and then drift back as he braked. A few cars further back, Eric’s was weaving in and out of traffic, fighting to make up the distance. Then his progress was halted as an articulated lorry pulled out in front, too long to make the turn properly.
‘Come on, you arsehole, keep coming. Keep coming,’ Stan mumbled under his breath. ‘OK, here.’
Having driven a few kilometres out of the town centre, Stan suddenly swung the car around a sharp turning into a single track country lane. Daisy clung on to the door handle tightly as Stan threw the car down the bumpy, hedge-lined road. Blind corner after blind corner came and went as Saeed followed, the bumpers of the two cars sometimes touching. After a kilometre or so, the lane opened out into a forest. The hedges that lined the side transformed into a tunnel of tall, overhanging trees.
As they drove, shards of light from the setting sun pierced through gaps in the canopy and shadows danced across the glass of the windscreen. Stan accelerated but, as the road widened, Saeed’s more powerful car started to edge up alongside, until the two drivers were level.
Stan switched his concentration from the front of the car to out his side window, where he could see Saeed doing the same. He waved his hand sarcastically and blew a kiss in Saeed’s direction. But the smile on his face vanished as Saeed’s left hand raised, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a pistol.
‘Shit,’ he shouted, as he slammed his foot on the brake just as the passenger side window shattered, a loud shot ringing out.
Saeed’s car flew in front by a good few metres, and Stan saw the back of his car light up bright red as he braked hard. As Stan swerved to avoid the BMW, the front wheel hit a large tree stump just off the road, sending the car spinning into the middle of the road. Trying to compensate, he swung the steering wheel back the other way and found himself heading straight for the back of Saeed’s car. At the last moment, Saeed swerved hard as the road took a sharp bend to the right.
The fraction of a second wasn’t enough for Stan to react, and the car smashed straight into the trunk of a huge oak tree. Both airbags exploded in a shower of white powder. The seatbelt dug into Daisy’s shoulder and she screamed in pain. Next to her, Stan lay unconscious, dazed by the impact of the airbag. The front of the car had crumpled, crushing his legs and trapping her right foot between the seat and the central console. As she fought to free herself, she saw the black BMW skid to a halt before reversing back up the road. She shook Stan by the shoulder and he groaned as his chin rolled on his chest.
The BMW stopped, and her breathing increased as she saw Saeed slowly leave the car and walk towards the wreck. He was pulling his black leather driving gloves on. He tapped on the driver’s window, staring in with a psychotic grin. Daisy struggled to release the seatbelt and all of a sudden the silence was broken as Saeed’s fist punched through the window. He grabbed Stan by the throat and held his head up.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ he shouted at Stan’s face.
Stan groaned and struggled to open his eyes. Through his bloody, powdery eyelids he saw Saeed’s features, contorted with anger, staring back at him.
‘We … are … your …’ He struggled to get the words out.
‘… worst nightmare …’
‘Ha, I don’t think so,’ Saeed spat back. His face twisted with effort as he squeezed his hand harder.
‘NO!’ shrieked Daisy, as she tried to snatch Saeed’s hand away, but her shoulder injury left her powerless to do anything. She watched with a sense of utter helplessness as the life ebbed from Stan, until finally he gargled his last breath and slumped forward, dead.
‘Your turn,’ he said to her, starting round to Daisy’s door, as nonchalantly as if moving around a table having just poured Stan a drink.
She switched her attention back to wrestling with the seatbelt buckle until, eventually, it released. Saeed began trudging around the back of the car, all the time shouting threats of what he would do to her, how worthless she was and how she was now, basically, screwed. Daisy screamed as she pulled her leg against the mangled console, her desperation growing along with the pain. It had to be now, and with one last concerted effort and a final scream of pain, her foot slid out of her trainer, releasing her leg.
As she turned to open the door, she screamed again, her face within inches of Saeed’s as he crouched down, peering, waiting at her window. He opened the door and reached inside, grabbing her by a mixture of hood and hair, and pulled her out, throwing her onto the damp, leaf-covered mud. She held her right shoulder and her right leg dragged straight out behind her as her good leg worked its hardest, pushing against the soft, yielding channels of mud, barely managing to propel her along the ground. The sound of Saeed laughing echoed through the forest as he strolled behind her, stalking her like a cat toying with an injured mouse.
She gave up and turned to look at him. He approached slowly, hands in pockets, and he shrugged as he planted a foot deep in the mud either side of her waist. Turning onto her back, she watched his shoulders moving up and down in long deep movements as he smiled at her. The sound of his heavy breathing was drowned out by the thumping of her heart and the pounding of blood through her head. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
She heard a shout.
‘You fucker!’ shouted Eric, as he launched himself at Saeed, smashing a knee into Saeed’s head. Daisy felt his boot in her ribs as he fell sideways, and she mustered enough strength to push herself backwards a few yards, out of harm’s way.
Eric grabbed Saeed and pulled him to his feet, throwing him against the car. He landed blow after blow into Saeed’s ribcage. Saeed threw a wild swinging haymaker in an attempt to defend himself, missing by miles. As his arm flew across his front, Eric pinned it to his chest, opening up the whole of Saeed’s right side, into which he thrust his knee again before slamming a huge fist into the side of his head. Saeed slumped to the floor in a heap.
‘That’s for my brother, arsehole,’ shouted Eric, as he spat into Saeed’s face. He pulled out a handful of cable ties and wrapped them around Saeed’s wrists, pulling them tight. ‘Come on, we’ve got to get out of here before the police arrive,’ he told Daisy, helping her to her feet. ‘I parked up the road a bit so he wouldn’t hear me come. Wait here with him while I get the car.’
‘Will those things hold him?’ asked Daisy, looking at the flimsy pieces of plastic that were all that restrained him.
‘They hold anything,’ replied Eric, as he ran off up the road.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, Daisy slumped back in the passenger seat as Eric drove out of the forest. She glanced back out of the window, flames rising from the crashed car, and she shielded her eyes as it exploded in a blinding flash.
On the back seat lay Saeed, unconscious, with his hands fastened behind his back. She carried on staring out of the front as the hedgerow sped past and she was overcome with tiredness, and closed her eyes. With one hand, Eric dialled the phone attached to the dashboard, as the ringing came through the car’s hands-free speaker.
‘It’s me,’ he said, as the phone answered. ‘Did you get my message?’
‘Yes, the goons have your position and will be there in a minute or so to collect Mister Anwar’s car. Is he restrained?’
‘Yes. Fucker’s fast asleep,’ replied Eric, as he sped his way out of the country lane and back onto the main road.
‘Right, get back here as quickly as you can,’ said Alistair. ‘Oh, and Eric? I’m sorry about Stan. Once you get him back here, we’ll give him the send-off he deserves. And I promise you, my friend, as sure as night turns into day, you will have your revenge.’
38
‘Carefully does it,’ Harris whispered to himself, staring at the screen, squinting with one eye as the crosshairs flew around his target. His fingers twitched nervously as he tried to zero in; he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Missed.
‘Daddy, you really are useless at this,’ said Olivia, grabbing the controller from his hand. ‘Look! The Joker’s killed you now. I’ll do it.’
‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ he replied, taking a sip of beer from the pint glass resting on the coffee table in front of him. He put his arm around his daughter and kissed her tenderly on the top of her head. ‘Sorry we didn’t get to Legoland. But hopefully, an afternoon of Lego Batman has made up for it, even if I am rubbish with a batarang.’
‘That’s OK. Can we play Minecraft now?’ she replied, just as the doorbell rang.
Harris got up and answered the door to find Grace standing on the step, holding a glass casserole dish between oven gloves.
‘I figured that since you’re so crap at cooking, you might like something proper for you and Olivia,’ she said, barging past him. They had gotten used to her impromptu arrivals, usually laden with food of some description, and it always made a welcome change from the standard fast food and microwave meals. ‘Hey, Liv,’ said Grace, as she walked into the living room, stopping only to place the dish down on the table and give Olivia a high five.
‘Aunty Grace has brought us our dinner. Do you think we should ask her to stay and eat it with us?’
‘I guess so,’ replied Olivia, without moving her attention away from the multitude of coloured cubes on the screen.
Grace smiled a slightly uncomfortable smile at Pete and went into the kitchen with the dish. Pete sat down on the sofa and put his hand on Olivia’s knee, taking the controller from her hand.
‘Is Grace going to be my new mummy?’ she asked.
‘Oh, heavens no,’ replied Pete. ‘She’s just a very good friend who’s looking out for us. Don’t you like her?’
‘Yes I do. But I miss Mummy,’ said Olivia, snuggling under her dad’s arm.
He hugged her harder. ‘I miss Mummy too. But I’ll make sure that we never forget her and no-one will ever replace her. I promise.’
She looked up at him and managed a faint smile as he kissed her on the forehead.
‘Anyway, I think you’ve got creepers to kill,’ he said, handing back the controller.
He heard the clattering of crockery coming from the kitchen as Grace made her way through the cupboards, searching for the dinner plates. As he wandered over to join her his mobile rang. Joe Henderson.
He quickly answered it, speaking loudly enough for Grace to know from the other room who was on the line.
‘Yes, Mister Henderson. Do you have some news for me?’
Grace came out from the kitchen and stood with Pete in the hallway, as he held the phone out and put it on speaker. There was very little sound coming from the other end, except what sounded like glass clinking against glass, and a few coughs and sniffs.
He tried again, ‘Mister Henderson?’
After a loud slurping sound, and another cough, Joe started to speak at the other end of the line.
‘Evening, Constable,’ he slurred, as Pete and Grace glanced at each other, raising their eyebrows. ‘I thought you might like to know that I’ve been in contact with the Righteous Brothers and they very kindly agreed to come and see me at work tomorrow.’
‘Mister Henderson, have you been drinking?’
‘A little. I decided that, since you bunch of wankers and that other lot have pr
etty much ruined my life, I was going to spunk as much money as I could today on the most expensive wines I could find. I’ve already polished off the Petrus and now I’m working my way through the Chateau Lafite. It’s a cheeky little—’
‘Mister Henderson, you need to pull yourself together,’ interrupted Pete, impatiently. ‘I need you to concentrate. What did they say exactly?’
‘They said that they needed to give me a debrief in case the fucking police got involved.’
‘OK, and did you tell them that we’d been in contact with you?’
‘No, I didn’t, cos I’m smart you see,’ replied Joe, taking another large mouthful of wine. ‘I acted like I hadn’t never met a police guy so far since Friday. Or something like that anyway.’
‘OK, Joe, I need you to listen to me very carefully,’ said Pete, sternly. ‘Tomorrow, assuming you manage to drag yourself out of bed, go to work as usual. Usual time, usual route, everything. Do nothing differently. Got it?’
‘Yep.’
‘You still have the items we gave you?’
‘Of course. In fact I’m wearing the shirt you gave me now …’
‘Christ, are you sure this is going to work?’ whispered Grace over the top of him, as Pete silently waved away her concerns.
‘… only I spilt a bit of Petrus down it. But I’m sure they won’t care about that.’
‘Joe, shut up,’ snapped Pete, his patience now bordering on zero. ‘Put the transmitter in as soon as you get in your car, before you drive anywhere. We will be in contact with you from that point, and make sure that you put the tracker in your collar so that we can monitor your position on your way to work. My colleagues will be in contact with you from the office and I will be waiting on your estate for when they arrive. Once they arrive, we will be able to listen in on your conversation and advise you on what to say. Do you understand?’