Never Back Down

by Solomon Carter

  It was the first time Bogdanis had ever been described this way, and he didn’t like it much at all.

  Fifteen

  Time meant nothing to Dan now. Time was a matter of absolute blackness studded with brief moments of light and vivid streaks of pain. The door to Dan’s cell was opened, one shadow and then another larger shadow entered, their feet echoing on the concrete floor. Didi and Joe were in their element.

  “Stick your dinner up your arse!” shouted Dan, spluttering with anger.

  “Things have changed, Daniel. You don’t have to eat the dinner. But you still give us a finger.”

  “What’s changed?” He said, hearing hope, panic and anxiety all mixed up in his own voice.

  “Someone has made a mess at one of the company buildings. It is only a trivial matter of course, nothing for you to get too excited about, but Mr Marka doesn’t like events to run unchecked. He prefers the biblical approach to justice. An eye for an eye, you understand.”

  “Wait. No, you don’t. I want my dinner first. All the good restaurants I’ve ever been to, you pay on the way out.”

  “Things have changed, Daniel.”

  “Restaurants have changed? Listen. I want my dinner now, like you said, and then you can have my bloody finger, all right?”

  “There will be no negotiations, Daniel. Dinner is cancelled tonight.”

  The other man spoke now.

  “And the payment must be collected now, Daniel. Now be a good little boy and hold out your hand.”

  There was a sound, a hiss from the click of metal. The merest hint of a shape, the merest glint of light said the knife was small, a pocket knife or penknife. And it was coming closer.

  “You boys will never get that Michelin star like this,” said Dan, struggling against his bindings for a moment and then releasing his muscles. There was no point in fighting. Even now, right in the face of his enemies, their darkness and their blade, he was smiling. He wondered if he was losing his grip as a tear of pride ran from the corner of his eye and down his cheek, stinging a ladder of lacerations on the way. The tear wasn’t about the pain he was to face. It was Eva. She had caused the mess at the company building, it had to be her. Eva had not given up on him after all. Eva was coming... To be continued

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  -Solomon

  The Long Time Dying Series

  by Solomon Carter

  Thrilling adventures featuring Eva Roberts & Dan Bradley, private detectives

  Series list - in reading order

  Out With A Bang

  One Mile Deep

  Long Time Dying

  Never Back Down

  Crossing The Line

  Divide and Rule

  Better The Devil

  On Borrowed Time

  The Dirty Game

  Never Back Down - Long Time Dying Series Book 4

  First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Great Leap

  Kindle Edition September 2014

  Copyright © Solomon Carter 2014

  Edited by OnlineBookServices.com

  Solomon Carter has asserted his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this e-book publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review, without the prior written permission of the author.

  For more information about the author visit www.solomoncarter.net

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  Excerpt

  Crossing The Line, Long Time Dying 5

  Eva didn’t believe in luck, good or bad, at least up to right this very second. Driving the wrong way down a road to race into the hustle of the A13’s speeding traffic and surviving had to be a good omen. Seeing Bogdanis caught up in a stand-off with the big man in orange was another. Yet Eva still didn’t believe in luck. Whatever game they were caught up in, it was clear the rules were complex and bizarre. Jess had spotted the confrontation first, letting Eva know about it with a triumphant cheer.

  Eva had seen the big man in the warehouse. It jolted her, because she knew where she had seen his face before; Gillespie’s offices in Upminster and at Fenbrook Manor the first time round. She hadn’t yet shared a word of her thinking with Jess because she was still working on it. She was working on what it meant in relation to Dan and in relation to the whole case. And what it meant to their chances of survival.

  At first consideration, Eva thought it was good news. After all, the big man had intervened at a crucial time when having Bogdanis on the loose would have meant death, or at best a “car versus bike” dog fight on the busiest section of the four lane A13 at a minimum speed of 80 miles an hour. They had been spared that nightmare, but at what cost? There were always consequences and implications, including Gillespie’s man apparently being on their side. Gillespie was on no one’s side but his own. Next, Eva began doing an internal risk analysis all the way from Dagenham through the slower traffic of urban Limehouse and into the depths of the city.

  First off, it meant that Gillespie wanted Eva and Jess to be kept alive. The next question was for how long and for what purpose? Eva’s logic dictated if Gillespie wanted her alive this far down the line, he wanted her to make it into Marka’s heartland - Shad Thames. She was still the chess piece in a man’s big game. It was frustrating and worrying, like being trapped in a maze and thinking you’ve escaped from only to find yourself back at the centre, more lost than ever. But this was the good bit - part of Gillespie’s game crossed over with Eva’s plans too. Useful. Perturbing. Gillespie would provide her cover for a time, until it ceased to be expedient for him. Eva reasoned she could now plausibly expect to make it into the Daily offices, provided she didn’t make a hideous mistake which Gillespie couldn’t ameliorate. There had been no hideous mistakes on her part for a time, so the odds were good. In terms of living until dinner time, she had cause to be optimistic.

  But there were still two main questions.

  When would their usefulness for Gillespie cease? There was no way of knowing. Did he want her to find the kind of evidence Dan had been seeking two years ago – the kind of evidence which sinks a kingpin and sends him to jail… Gillespie couldn’t have been that naïve. Marka was a devious man, smart enough to destroy all the evidence Dan ever had about him and leave Dan apparently going insane without a shred of proof. No, Gillespie wouldn’t believe she was going to stumble into some new damning evidence for the police… unless Gillespie was expecting it to be easy to find… unless Gillespie’s boys were one step ahead of her and had planted it. If they did, Eva wouldn’t have any qualms about putting the despicable bastard behind bars based on whatever evidence she chanced to find. What a wonderful i
rony. Dan would love it… but it was castles in the sky. She didn’t know a thing. Maybe Gillespie was planning a bonfire of the enemies, waiting until they were all together in one building so he could hit them all at once. No, that was too grandiose, too Don Corleone. It may have been convenient, but it didn’t sound like the old maniac’s style. He was brutal, but struck Eva as the sort who dealt with things pragmatically - on a case by case basis. That’s why he mocked Marka’s list and outsourcing approach to revenge which she had earlier assumed was down to Gillespie. Gillespie had a plan and she could read it as far as Shad Thames, but no further. Then it disappeared among all the other dreadful possibilities. So like everything else Eva couldn’t control, she put it out of her head, and remembered the benefits Gillespie provided instead. They would live until they reached The Daily at least, and then they were on their own again, against the mad Russian’s outfit, which wasn’t so cool. Another issue bothered her most of all. During the escape from Dagenham it had passed her by. Thoughts about Gillespie and his man’s intervention almost knocked it out of her mind altogether, but it came spinning back on its trajectory bringing all the angst and worry she could possibly handle right now. Bogdanis the courier -he was sent by group office, HQ, whatever they called it. That had to be The Daily’s offices. They knew Eva was coming. Hopefully, Gillespie’s big man would have done enough damage to put Bogdanis out of communication with HQ for some time to come. Even if that were the case, Bogdanis would still be expected to call in soon or return to base. And when he did not, alarm bells would ring at HQ. At that point, Dan really would be in trouble. In fact, such news could make Marka decide to finish his game there and then. If that happened, Dan would be dead.

  As the car passed through the light studded ambience of the concrete Limehouse Link tunnel, taking them directly into the city with the bleak seam of the river Thames just out of sight, Jess noticed Eva’s demeanour change. It was like some angry soul had astral projected into Eva’s body and taken the wheel.

  The car began to speed and bite at the back of the car in front. She hit the horn and moved sideways to peer into the traffic beyond the cars ahead. She tutted and fidgeted.

  “What’s up? Apart from the obvious.” It was a ludicrous thing to ask, but weird and stressed had become pretty normal by now.

  “Bogdanis was sent down by Shad Thames HQ. If he can still talk, the people at the Daily will know we are coming.”

  “If he can still talk. He’s probably still crawling around looking for his bottom jaw at the Sofa Warehouse car park.”

  “Could be. But if not, Dan is finished. We need to get there before they work out what happened to Bogdanis.”

  Jess went quiet and bit at her nails, tutted and shook her head. “How long to Shad Thames?”

  “Anything from ten minutes to two hours. That’s if the London traffic moves in our favour. And if it doesn’t….”

  “Then we better pray for a miracle,” said Jess. Jess stuck her head out of the window and peered at the queue of traffic sprawling in a slow angry line all the way through three sets of lights ahead, and around a corner in the distance. This was the full traditional pull-all-of-your-hair-out London gridlock. Nothing about this looked good. Another digit flicked by on the Alfa’s dashboard clock…

  To be continued in…

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