Craig Hunter Books 1-3

by Ed James

  She leaned down and took a look at Dignity, running her hand along the length of the boat. ‘Good news is nobody’s messed about with her.’

  ‘And the bad?’

  Fiona smirked. ‘You’d have to be a fucking idiot to even think about going out in this weather.’

  Cullen groaned. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

  ‘I’m heading out there, Scott. Christ knows what he could be up to.’

  ‘Jesus Christ. Right, I’m coming with you.’

  The motor whined as Fiona steered them over to the oil rigs. Lights flashed up on the platforms, just like the other day. Someone was up there. Admir? And did he have Murray?

  Cullen swayed on the boat, rolling with the rocking motion. Sheep-shagging bastard grew up in the north-east with a rich old man, of course he had sea legs.

  Hunter stood up, trying to control the nausea, watching the small jetty rush towards them. He jumped over and landed with a thud and dull ache in his ribs, then shot to the ladder and pushed himself up. His rhythm was tight and fast this time, and he made it to the halfway platform without falling off.

  Back down the ladder, Cullen was taking it slow and steady. Fiona stayed in the boat.

  Hunter raced up the second ladder, his fingers slipping more as he neared the top. As much as he hated it, he had to keep it slow. The last few rungs were tough, his hands like lead. Stop, gust of wind. Right hand, right foot. Another gust of wind. He pushed himself over the top onto the derelict platform. Rain and wind lashed his face. Osprey Bravo was much the same as its sister over the water, but had more superstructure still standing. A hulking great industrial block looked like a factory.

  A flash of light over by the crew quarters. Two figures stood in the gloom, soaked through. The entrance was clear, though.

  A hand touched Hunter’s arm. Cullen. ‘What do you think, Craig?’

  ‘Fifty-fifty between those two.’

  ‘I’d check that block. It’s not guarded. Then we’ll know.’

  ‘Stay here.’

  ‘I’m not staying here!’

  ‘Scott, please.’

  ‘As if we’re not in enough shite. Fine.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Hunter set off, checking the gun was still in his coat pocket. He darted over to a barrel and hid behind it, the drone of machinery getting louder.

  The guards were chatting, probably bored out of their minds. The tedium at the heart of an international drug-smuggling ring.

  Hunter spotted his next move, a big crate, all packaged up and ready to go. He shot over and pushed to the left, rounding it slowly.

  One of the guards lit a cigarette. The other laughed.

  Hunter scanned the door now. A giant shed, with a hangar-like door, a smaller one cut into it. He checked his pocket for the keys he’d taken from the guard back at the office building. Hopefully one of these would fit. He eased his way this time, using the shadows to curve round in an arc towards the entrance. The light missed the side and he leaned flat against the door, reaching over to the try the keys. Got lucky on his third go.

  A bark of laughter caught the wind. The guards were looking over.

  Hunter froze, holding his breath and keeping as still as he could. He clocked Cullen, squatting in the shadows, shivering and soaked through.

  They turned away and stamped their feet in time, trying to keep warm.

  Hunter let his breath go and slipped inside the shed, nudging the door shut behind him. The hall probably used to be an oil storage room. A series of doors and vaults, open up to the roof. Hunter tried the first door with a key.

  A click behind him and he turned.

  Too late. Something hard hit his shoulder and pushed him forward. He stumbled to his knees, his gun spinning off across the floor plates.

  He tried to shift round, but was pinned in place, face on the ground.

  ‘My friend, you were on the rig when you shouldn’t have been. Now you’re again where you shouldn’t be. It’s over, my friend.’ That accent.

  ‘Admir?’

  Something hard dug into Hunter’s neck. ‘How do you know my name?’

  ‘He-Man always beats Skeletor.’ I hold the two action figures in my hand. ‘But it has to be difficult. Okay?’

  Murray nods like he’s paying attention, but he’s much more of a Real Ghostbusters kid than Masters of the Universe. He’s got his little figures out, much smaller than my ones, but there’s more of them and Grandpa bought him their van too. It’s not fair. I asked Mummy for Castle Grayskull for my birthday but she didn’t get me it. Said if I was a good boy, maybe I’d get it for Christmas. I’m always a good boy and Murray’s always horrible and he gets all the best things. It’s not fair.

  He-Man is getting beaten hard by Skeletor. I don’t have Evil-Lyn but I can imagine she’s there, helping Skeletor.

  ‘Where’s Grandpa?’

  Murray’s frowning. Worried. Staring at Grandpa’s empty deckchair. Three tins of Tennent’s Lager sit to the side. I hate it when Murray goes all quiet like that. Like Daddy just before he…

  I cough. ‘He said he’s getting another beer.’

  Murray nods, like that makes things better for him. ‘Have you ever had a beer, Craig?’

  ‘No, beer’s disgusting.’

  ‘You’re disgusting.’

  I punch Murray in the arm, harder than I meant to. It makes him cry. Murray tries hitting me back, but I’m too big and too strong for him. I do that thing he hates, where I grab his head and he’s punching and punching but he can’t hit me, so he cries even more.

  I hold him there really long, his crying getting worse and worse, then I let him go, and he scurries off inside.

  Crybaby, running to Grandpa.

  So I follow him into the house, running to make sure he tells the truth and doesn’t get me into trouble.

  ’STOP!’ A big, meaty hand blocks me getting inside. It’s Daddy and he’s looking angry. Blinking at me, like he sees two of me. ‘Craig, what are you up to?’

  ‘I’m chasing Murray!’

  ‘It’s too early for this shi— hassle.’ Daddy rubs his forehead. ‘Isn’t your grandfather looking after you?’

  ‘He’s gone to get a beer.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Daddy pinches his nose. ‘Right, come on.’

  But I slip past him and skip ahead of him into the house, through to the kitchen at the back.

  But Murray’s standing in the kitchen doorway, clinging to the handle.

  ‘What’s up?’

  But he doesn’t say anything.

  There’s a low moaning, like there’s a big monster in there. Has the monster got Grandpa? Has Grandpa turned into the monster? I take Murray’s hand and squeeze it, trying to make him feel better. Then I sneak past him into the kitchen, taking it very, very slowly, like Prince Adam and not He-Man.

  Grandpa’s lying on the floor, gasping, clutching his chest. His face is pale like Skeletor and he’s staring right at me. ‘Please, son! Get your father!’

  A big hand pushes me to the side and I grab hold of Daddy’s leg.

  ‘Ah, Christ. Donald…’ Daddy grabs my hand and pushes me out of the kitchen. ‘Boys, get back outside. Ah, Christ.’

  Hunter stared at the floor. Counted the number of doors. Listened to the painful machine drone. An open door at the end, a high-tech security console glowing under harsh lights.

  Back in the here and now.

  Admir planted a foot on his back and pushed him cheek-first to the ground. ‘You filthy pig!’

  ‘You should run. This place is surrounded. We’ve got twenty armed cops on their way here, right now.’ He nodded towards the security room. ‘Go see for yourself.’

  Admir grabbed Hunter by the collar and hauled him up to standing, then pushed him over to the room. Three screens showing outside, the infrared picking out the guards with AKs and—shite—Cullen. Admir swore in his native tongue. ‘I will need to dispose of another pest.’

  Hunter stepped to the side and lashed out w
ith his hand, chopping through Admir’s throat. The big man gasped and Hunter followed up with a knee to the groin and pushed through his shoulders, sending Admir sprawling over the security console. His gun rattled across the floor.

  A red warning light started flashing, and a siren call burst out.

  ‘Stupid pig!’ Admir lashed out with a knife, swishing through the air.

  The blade caught Hunter’s wrist, but it didn’t hurt. Not straight away. Then pain flashed, tearing up his arm. He dived low and grabbed Admir’s spilled gun. No time to check the safety, and he fired blind.

  Admir caught a slug in the shoulder, his knife clanking off the floor. He stumbled forward and landed on Hunter. Heavy fists pounded down. Hunter couldn’t keep hold of the gun, but he managed to toss it away, under the console. Admir kneed Hunter in the side, winding him like he’d fallen from a helicopter again.

  Footsteps raced away from him.

  Hunter forced himself up. The siren was hurting his head. Blood dripped down his hand. Fresh pain stabbing his ribs. No time to get the gun, no idea where his own was. He picked up the knife and went back into the corridor. It’d have to do.

  The door at the end hung open, the din louder than ever.

  Admir was rounding some grinding machine, limping heavily.

  Hunter tried sprinting, but the thickness in his head and the flaring pain in his arm and ribs slowed him down.

  Into a giant hall filled with industrial machinery. The noise hurt worse than his injuries. A metal latticework floor.

  Admir escaped through a door at the end, shutting it behind him.

  Hunter stepped up the pace, but slipped in something, crashing to his knees. Blood.

  The door behind him slammed. Trapped.

  He got up and looked around. The machines seemed to be slowing, if anything.

  Then Hunter caught sight of something he didn’t expect.

  Murray, chained up in a cage. Naked and ill-looking, fresh scars dotted with drying blood. ‘Craig?’

  33

  Hunter inched towards the cage. His little brother. He tried the lock but it was shut. ‘Hold on!’ He fumbled his keys, dropping them to the floor.

  ‘Craig? What the hell is going on? Where’s Keith?’

  ‘I’ll get you out of here, Muz.’ Hunter picked up the keys and tried the cage. ‘Was this Admir?’

  ‘Right. I uncovered stuff when we were urbexing at the other rig. Admir killing someone, it went up on YouTube. Deadman’s switch. Why I’m still alive, probably. Where’s Keith?’

  Fourth key and Hunter was in. He tore open the cage door and reached in for Murray, grabbing him by the wrists and helping him up to standing. ‘What’s he done to you?’

  Murray grinned through what looked like severe pain. ‘Easier to say what he hasn’t.’ He coughed and blood dribbled down his chin. ‘I’ve seen a power drill do things…’ Another cough and blood flobbed out onto the floor.

  ‘Come on, bro, let’s get you out of here.’

  Murray let Hunter undo his chains, then started towards the door. ‘We need to get out of here. Admir’s set off an alarm. This place will blow in five minutes.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s destroying the rig.’ Murray was struggling to stay upright, let alone walk. ‘He told me. This is all going to burn. I was going to roast alive. It might explode first.’

  That sparked Hunter into action. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed Murray and lifted him in a fireman’s carry, taking it slow and steady across the steel latticework floor. Deep breaths, like he was on a strongman challenge. The metal clanked and resonated with each step. Into the other room, quieter now. He had to rest and set Murray on the floor. He was breathing hard.

  Murray pushed himself up to standing and opened the door. He peered out. Looked clear. But no sign of Cullen or the guards.

  Murray tugged at Hunter’s sleeve. ‘This is going to blow up!’ He sprawled forward, toppling out into the cold air.

  Hunter crouched to help him up, putting an arm over his shoulder. Still no sign of Cullen.

  An explosion rang out from behind them. The shockwave ripped through them, pushing them flat to the wet steel. Metal flew through the air, a chunk landing right next to Murray. The block started shaking, the nearest corner tumbling in.

  ‘They’re demolishing the place.’ Murray pointed up as a second corner toppled in. A fire raged already.

  Hunter picked him up again in a fireman’s carry and tried to get distance between them and the collapsing structure.

  Another explosion, but further away. Then another, and a fourth. The industrial block crumbled inwards, flattened. Then a fifth explosion, right in the middle. Flames started licking the air, the heat touching Hunter’s face.

  ‘Craig!’ Cullen’s voice was barely a whisper above the bedlam around them. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

  ‘Controlled detonation.’ Hunter breathed hard. ‘Admir’s burning the evidence. We need to get away.’ He grabbed Murray and set off across the platform, heading for the ladder back down.

  Through the noise, Hunter could make out a speedboat motor. No sign of Fiona now. Admir was clambering down another ladder to the jetty.

  Hunter put a finger to his lips, getting a nod from Cullen, then sneaked over towards them.

  Admir was on the middle platform, talking on a radio in his native tongue.

  Hunter kept it slow as he climbed, listening for cues and watching for body language, anything to show him wrapping up his call, anything to show he was aware of Hunter.

  Admir looked up when Hunter was five metres or so above him.

  He let go and plummeted, landing on Admir.

  Admir tried to elbow him but Hunter caught the move, shifting his weight to the side. Crack. Hunter kneed him in the kidneys. An open-palmed punch on the back and Admir sprawled forward, his head thunking off the floor. Hunter pinned him to the platform, pushing all his weight onto him.

  ‘You sick bastard.’ Hunter pulled him up to standing and started walking him to the ladder. ‘You bring drugs into this country and ruin people’s lives. Including my brother’s. Why shouldn’t I just throw you off the side?’

  ‘You should kill me now. I will get away.’

  ‘No, you fucking won’t.’ Hunter stopped him by the rungs. ‘You’ll be in prison for a very long time.’

  Admir elbowed him in the ribs, and a million sharp teeth bit into Hunter’s chest. Admir made a break for the ladder and Hunter threw himself at Admir, sending him flying. Hunter landed on his back and grabbed hold of him by the throat.

  A fresh explosion rung out and the whole oil rig rocked to the side.

  Admir slipped out of his grip and Hunter slid across the platform. He caught the ladder, now at a strange angle, and held it tight. Admir was rolling and Hunter reached for him. He grabbed a hand and held on.

  Another explosion rocked them. Hunter struggled to keep his grip on the ladder and Admir’s hand slipped. The Albanian fell into the sea, arms and legs windmilling as he flew, like King Kong plunging to his death.

  Hunter held on to the ladder, his fingers ice cold and struggling. He looked around. No sign of Cullen or Murray. Shite! Another explosion. A deep moaning sound tore out. The rig was going to tip over.

  Down in the water, Admir’s floating corpse was caught in the lights, his face red raw. Very dead. Then he dipped below the surface.

  Hunter had one move here. Get into the water, stabilise his breathing, then swim far enough away from the rig. Or try for Osprey Alpha. He took it slow going down, his fingers slithering around the slimy metal. The wind lashed at him. His fingers slipped and he dropped.

  He plunged under the water with a cold blast. He surfaced, breathing stuttering out like a machine gun. Panicking. Heart racing. Shivering. Shaking.

  Then a hand grabbed him, pulling him back. Up and over. ‘Come on, big guy.’ Cullen.

  Hunter’s teeth were chattering, his whole body felt like melting ice.

  Murray
was sitting next to him.

  34

  ‘Is she safe?’

  Three o’clock in the interview room in Inverness, and Hunter was held together by rancid machine coffee. ‘Who?’

  Oswald rolled his eyes. ‘My wife. Is she safe?’

  ‘She is, aye, but you should be more concerned for yourself. You’re going to prison for a long time.’

  ‘Be very careful.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’

  Oswald just looked at his lawyer, Anna Patel. She seemed to have cornered all the players in this drug ring. Neither said anything.

  ‘You think that, as a lord, you’re above the law. That it?’

  ‘After the assistance I gave you? Finding your brother?’

  ‘You were dealing in pure heroin. Helping an Albanian gang to transport it into the country on boats to one of your oil rig platforms, cutting it on a second before you brought it ashore.’

  ‘Okay…’

  ‘You’re admitting it?’

  Oswald sat back, arms crossed, lips pursed.

  ‘You held my brother captive, tortured him.’

  ‘You should consider writing this down, I’m sure James Patterson would publish it under his own name.’

  ‘Wait, you’re denying all of this?’

  ‘Of course I am. You’ve trespassed on my property, twice. The first time, I could forgive. But the second, you were responsible for the destruction of the Osprey Beta. I don’t know how you did it, but we were in the process of decommissioning it.’

  ‘It looked very much like a heroin factory to me.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll have experts in trying to prove some spurious connection, but that was a standard industrial operation.’

  Hunter looked at Cullen and got a nod. ‘Iain Oswald, I’m arresting you for—’

  The custody sergeant led Oswald away by the arm.

  Cullen patted Hunter’s shoulder. ‘Good work there, Craig.’

  ‘Really? Can’t help but think he’ll get away with this.’

  ‘You’ve got your brother back and we’ve bust apart a drug-smuggling ring. We’ve solved two murders. I think. Might be three. I’m so tired, I can’t even remember. Either way, that’s decent work, by anyone’s book.’